Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles 3)

As if it was as easy as that. Wanting had little to do with it. I couldn’t because deep down I knew I needed to loosen Remo’s hold on my stupid heart before I could ever consider moving on.

I knew the rules of our world, even now they still bound me, bound my family. We had promised the Mancinis Dante’s niece, and now they wouldn’t get what they wanted, what they expected as the ruling family of Indianapolis. Maybe Danilo had accepted my decision but his father was still alive, sick and bedridden, but alive. He pulled the strings in the background. The Mancinis wouldn’t settle for just anyone as my replacement.

“I can’t,” I said quietly. “I can’t ever marry, Mom. Don’t make me.”

Mom rushed toward me and embraced me. “We won’t. Not me, not your father, not Dante. We all failed you horribly. You don’t ever have to marry, sweetheart, you can live with your father and me for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you, Mom,” I said, and even as I said it I knew it wasn’t what I wanted.

She pulled back, frowning. “Your uncle would like a word with you. I told him it’s still too soon, but he insists it’s necessary. Still, if you aren’t ready, I will stand up to him.”

Dread filled me but I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’ll talk to him.”

She gave a terse nod. “I’ll get him. He needs to return to Chicago tomorrow morning. He’s been gone for too long these last two months.”

She kissed my cheek before she left.

Dante stepped in a moment later, tall and controlled as always. He closed the door then paused, his cool blue eyes flickering to my throat where Remo’s marks had been—no longer visible, covered by layers of concealer, just like my traitorous feelings for him were covered up by stacks of lies. I flushed and touched my skin in shame.

“Don’t,” he said firmly.

I frowned. He moved toward me slowly, cautiously, as if he thought I might bolt. I lowered my hand from my throat when he came to a stop in front of me. “Don’t be ashamed for something forced upon you,” Dante said quietly, but his voice was off. It had a note to it I had never heard before. I searched my uncle’s eyes, but it was difficult to read him. He exuded control and power. But there was a flicker of regret and sadness in his gaze. “I don’t want to open up painful wounds, Serafina, but as the Boss of the Outfit, I need to know everything you know about the Camorra so I can bring them down and kill Remo Falcone.”

I swallowed, looking away. This war would become so much bloodier and crueler soon. As if that would undo my kidnapping. As if Remo’s death could change anything. But my family and Danilo needed to make amends for their guilt. Nothing I could say would change that.

“I don’t think I know anything that will help you.”

“Every small detail helps. Habits. The dynamic between the brothers. Remo’s weaknesses. The layout of the mansion.”

Remo’s weakness. His brothers. Remo’s biggest weakness may be his only one.

“Remo doesn’t trust anyone but his brothers and Fabiano. He would die for them,” I whispered.

For some reason I felt almost guilty for revealing that to my uncle, as if I owed Remo loyalty, as if I owed him anything at all. He had kidnapped me and then let me go. I wasn’t sure what made me hate him more.

“Apart from the family, only Fabiano and Leona are allowed inside the mansion, and occasionally cleaners. Remo keeps a knife and a gun close at all times. He’s a light sleeper …” I froze, falling silent.

My skin burned at what I’d just revealed, but Dante only regarded me calmly. No judgment or anger. I still had to lower my gaze from his because his understanding made me feel even worse. He didn’t know I’d come freely into Remo’s bed, enjoyed not only the sex but also the tenderness afterwards. It was a side of Remo no one knew and that he had showed it to me meant more to me than it should.

Could I reclaim what was lost? I began shaking, overwhelmed with the situation, with my feelings.

“Serafina,” Dante said firmly, touching my shoulder. I raised my eyes to his and shook even worse, overcome with the need to spill everything but not brave enough. I pressed myself against my uncle, and he touched the back of my head in comfort.

“What am I going to do? How will I belong again? Everyone will look at me with disgust.”

Dante’s body coiled tighter. “If anyone does, you’ll let me know, and I’ll deal with them.”

I nodded.

“And you never stopped belonging. You are part of the Outfit, part of this family, nothing changed.”