Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles 3)

Serafina was quicker than last time, and she didn’t stay on the trail, which was a huge risk on her part. If she got lost around here, she’d die of dehydration before she found her way back to civilization. I picked up my own pace. Serafina jumped to avoid rocks and practically flew over the ground. It was a beautiful sight. So much more beautiful than having her locked in a room.

Eventually, I caught up with her. Her legs were much shorter, and she was less muscular. When I was close enough, I slung my arm around her waist like last time. We both lost our balance from the impact and fell. I landed on my back with Serafina on top of me. She rammed her knee into my stomach and kicked to get out my hold. Before she could do real damage, I rolled over and pressed her into the ground with my weight, her wrists pushed up above her head.

“Gotcha,” I murmured, panting, dripping sweat.

Serafina’s chest heaved, her eyes indignant and furious. “You enjoy the chase.”

“Actually, I don’t,” I said in a low voice, bringing our lips closer. “But with you I do.”

“You knew I’d run,” she muttered.

“Of course. You are meant to be free. Which makes me wonder why you allow someone like Danilo to cage you.”

She wriggled under me. “Let me go.”

“I’m enjoying being on top of you and between your lithe legs.” I rocked my pelvis slightly.

She stiffened. “Don’t.”

I licked a droplet of sweat off her throat before I pushed off her and stood. Serafina ignored my outstretched hand and stumbled to her feet. Her hair had fallen out of her ponytail, and she was covered in dirt and sweat.

“I prefer you like this.”

She frowned. “Dirty?”

“Untamed. Seeing you in that white atrocity can’t compare. Too perfect, too groomed, too fake. I bet Danilo would have loved it, though.”

She didn’t say anything, and I knew part of my words got through to her. My eyes were drawn to her forearm, which she was rubbing absentmindedly. A small part of the cut had opened again and was bleeding.

A flicker of guilt caught me off guard. It wasn’t an emotion I entertained very often. I took her arm and inspected the wound. Dirt had gotten in it. “We need to clean that to prevent infection.”

Her blue eyes searched my face, but I had trouble reading the expression on hers. I led her back to the car. It was getting hotter and after the chase, we both needed a shower. I took a fresh bottle of water from the trunk and poured it over Serafina’s wound, cleaning it carefully with my fingertips. She winced occasionally but didn’t say anything. “The silent treatment isn’t your usual style,” I commented.

“You don’t know me.”

I smirked. “I know you better than most people. Better than Danilo.”

She didn’t contradict me.

“Hate can set you free,” I said.

“So can love,” she said. “But I doubt you’d understand.”

Serafina was silent on the way back to the mansion, her gaze distant as she peered out of the side window.

I returned her to her room, knowing she had a lot to think about before I headed into my own room for a shower. When I came down into the game room later, Savio was lounging on the sofa, typing on his phone. Upon spotting me, he set it down and grinned.

“Nino isn’t happy that you took the bitch running.”

I sank down beside my brother. “It offends his logic.”

Savio laughed. “But honestly, Remo, he has a point. That girl is unpredictable.”

“That makes her all the more fun,” I said.

Savio gave me a curious look. “You’re enjoying this more than I thought. And you haven’t even fucked her … or have you?”

“No, I haven’t. Serafina is a surprising challenge.”

“Too much work for my taste,” Savio said with a shrug. “I prefer girls who shut up when I tell them to, who suck my dick when I want it. Less hassle.”

“Eventually, you’ve had it all. You’ve fucked in every position possible, have done all the kinky shit you can think of. It becomes more difficult to get the thrill from the beginning.”

He leaned forward on his knees. “You’re not thinking of keeping her … are you?”

“No.”

I called Dante in the afternoon. He picked up after the second ring, his voice cold and hard but with an underlying tension that gave me a thrill.

“Dante, I wanted to ask when you were going to fulfill my demand.”

“I won’t, just as you intended. I don’t have time for your games, Remo. This is between us, between you and me. Why don’t we meet in person, Capo to Capo, and settle this like men.”

“You want to duel me? How archaic of you, Dante. You didn’t strike me as the primitive type.”

“I’ll gladly convince you of the contrary.”