Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles 3)

“But you want to be with him?”

I laughed. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

“He won’t force you.”

“That’s not what I mean,” I said quietly. “I don’t think my heart or my body will leave me a choice.”

She nodded, understanding filling her face. “I’m so happy for the both of you, the four of you.”

“Do you think Remo’s capable of … love?”

Kiara looked thoughtful. “He and Nino went through horrible things as children. It formed them into the men they are today. It still affects them. I’m not sure what it did to Remo. If parts of him were irrevocably destroyed …”

I didn’t ask what kind of horrors lay in Remo’s past. Kiara would have told me if she thought it was her place to share. If I wanted to find out, I’d have to ask him.

“If you want to go Christmas shopping, we can go together tomorrow. Fabiano could guard us.”

“That would be nice,” I said.

Despite Nino’s words of protest, Remo came down for dinner that evening, and we all settled around the dining room table. Greta and Nevio were in their new high chairs between Kiara and me. I had taken over the job of trying to wrangle food into Nevio’s mouth since Greta seemed to do well around Kiara. I could feel Remo’s eyes on us the entire time with an expression I could only describe as longing. My food was getting cold anyway, so I decided to give him a chance to be a real dad.

“Why don’t you give this a try?” I asked Remo. I wasn’t sure if he was interested in feeding or if he was like some fathers whose interest in their children ended when it required them to do something.

Everyone paused what they were doing for a moment. Remo put down his fork and stood. His movements were still stiff, not just because of the bandages; it would take some time for his broken bones and bruises to heal. I gave him my chair, took my plate, and settled into the place he’d vacated. Nevio was making grabby motions, but the spoon and bowl were out of his reach. I could tell that he was getting frustrated with the situation and a hissy fit was fast approaching.

Remo took the spoon and lifted it toward Nevio’s face, but he didn’t restrain his arms. Before I could warn him, Nevio snatched at the spoon and catapulted sweet potato puree through the room. Most of it landed square on Remo’s shirt. The rest in Nino’s face.

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop laughter.

Kiara didn’t show the same restraint. She burst out laughing. Nino wiped his face with a napkin, his eyes on his laughing wife—and softer than I’d ever seen them.

Nevio rocked excitedly in his chair, a toothless grin on his face. Remo glanced down at himself, then at his son, and his lips twitched. This time he took Nevio’s hands in his big one before he brought the spoon toward his mouth. Nevio pressed his lips together, obviously unhappy about the situation.

“This reminds me of you, Adamo,” Remo said.

Adamo grimaced.

Nino nodded. “You always made a mess during feeding as well.”

“If we start exchanging baby stories, I’m out,” Savio muttered.

Remo turned back to Nevio and nudged his lips with the spoon. “Come on, Nevio.”

I stood and got on my haunches beside Nevio’s high chair. “Come on, Nevio, show your dad how well you can eat.”

Remo looked down at me, his expression stilling when I called him ‘dad.’ After a moment of hesitation, Nevio finally allowed Remo to put the spoon in his mouth.

I smiled, straightened to my feet, and pressed a kiss on Nevio’s head. Then I leaned over Greta and did the same. She smiled at me with the spoon in her mouth, and my heart just exploded with gratefulness. I caught Remo’s eyes but quickly glanced away because the look in his threatened to crush my resolve to keep my distance.

After bringing the twins to bed, I grabbed my phone and headed for Remo’s bedroom. Nino had practically dragged him there so he could lie down and rest.

I knocked.

“Come in, Angel.”

Frowning, I entered. “How did you know?”

He regarded me with an expression that sent a little shiver down my spine. “Because my brothers don’t knock, they barge in, and Kiara usually stays away from my bedroom.”

I nodded, my hand still on the door, debating if I should leave it open just to be safe.

Remo smiled knowingly. “I’m practically bedridden. No reason to be worried. I won’t attack you.”

Bedridden. As if. That man couldn’t be broken easily. I closed the door. I wasn’t worried about Remo making a move. I was worried I’d throw caution in the wind and do what I’d been dreaming of forever. “As if that would stop you.”

Remo didn’t say anything.