Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles 3)

Dad came up behind Samuel and put his hand on his shoulder. “Send them with him to Las Vegas. They are Falcones, but you aren’t Fina. Be free of them and him. You can start a new life.”

“Where my children go, I will go,” I said. “Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough for all of your sins? Don’t turn me into another pawn in your chess game. Set me free.”

Realization settled in Sam’s eyes, and it broke my heart. I ached, ached for my family who would never understand. I could only hope they’d come to hate me one day so they didn’t miss me anymore. Remo’s grip on my hip loosened. Even the adrenaline wouldn’t keep him on his feet for an endless amount of time. He was too injured for that.

“Let us leave. You failed me once, and now I’m lost to you. But please allow me to bring my children to a family that will love them. Allow me to bring my children home. You owe it to me.”

Danilo made a disbelieving sound, his hand around his gun tightening.

I hated myself for playing the guilt card, but I knew it was our only chance. For Remo to get out of here alive, I had to hurt the family I loved.

Dante’s cold eyes met mine. “If I allow you to leave today, you are a traitor. You won’t be part of the Outfit. You will be the enemy. You won’t see your family again. There won’t be peace with the Camorra. This war has only begun.”

Samuel heaved a deep breath, his eyes begging me to reconsider. Could I live without him?

“When will this war ever end, Uncle?” I asked quietly. He looked at Remo, and I knew what he would say. “Never,” I whispered the answer.

Dante inclined his head. Dad looked at me as if this was the final goodbye, a daughter lost for good.

“Leave,” Dante said coldly.

Danilo shook his head incredulously. “You can’t be serious, Dante. You can’t let them go.”

Dante glanced at my ex-fiancé, looking tired.

“Set me free,” I said softly.

“Leave.”

Relief and wistfulness slammed into me hearing that word. “Thank you.”

Dante shook his head. “Don’t thank me. Not for that.”

Remo nudged me lightly, and I walked closer to the door, keeping my body between him and the others. I walked backward to keep an eye on my family. They didn’t attack. They didn’t stop us. Dad and Samuel looked broken. I had landed the ultimate hit, had broken them. I wondered how Mom would react when she found out. She’d be crushed. My heart was heavy as I led Remo to the parked car. He sank down on the passenger seat, passing out immediately. I closed the door and got behind the steering wheel. Greta and Nevio were still fast asleep in their seats.

I hit the gas and sent the car flying down the long gravel road. I quickly connected to Bluetooth and called the Sugar Trap. It was the only number I’d found on the Internet.

It took a while before the guy I talked to agreed to call Nino and to give him my number. I was starting to go crazy.

Remo wouldn’t survive if I had to drive all the way to Vegas with him, and I couldn’t take him to a hospital in Outfit territory. What if my family got over their initial shock and decided to get rid of us after all? I needed to reach Camorra territory.

My pulse spiked when my phone finally rang. I picked up after the second ring.

“Is he dead?” Nino asked at once.

I glanced at Remo who was slumped against the passenger door, breathing shallowly.

“Not yet,” I got out.

Nino was quiet for a moment. “Did you call to gloat? To let me hear my brother’s last screams?”

That’s what he thought?

“I’m in a car with him. We got out. We’re on our way.”

“You got him out?” Nino asked sharply. “Where are you? We’re taking a helicopter and meeting you halfway. We’re in Kansas City. I’ll calculate the best spot now.”

I told him where I was heading, and we agreed on a meeting place eighty miles from where I was.

“He’s badly injured,” I said quietly.

“Remo is too strong to die,” Nino said.

Tears stung in my eyes. “I’m driving as quickly as I can.”

“Serafina,” Nino began. “He thought you’d come back. He wanted you to come back on your own free will.”

I swallowed. This wasn’t about Remo and me. This was about my children, and yet my chest ached with emotions as I regarded the man beside me. His dark hair sticking to his bloody forehead. “I need to drive,” I said and hung up.

About one hour later I steered the car toward a deserted parking lot where a helicopter was already waiting. Nino and Savio stood beside it. I’d hoped Fabiano would be there. I trusted him more than these two.