Twisted Bonds (The Camorra Chronicles 4)

Nino joined me in the bathtub, then opened his arms. I shifted until my back was pressed up against his chest and I was nestled between his strong arms. He kissed my throat. I could feel him growing hard against my backside, but I ignored it. Nino nibbled on my shoulder and his hand stroked my knee, then slipped up my thigh, higher and higher until I stopped him with a soft touch. I sensed his unspoken questions. Could he really not understand why I wasn’t in the mood for sex?

“Don’t you feel guilty?” I asked quietly.

Nino leaned back, his hand moving back to my knee and rubbing my skin lightly. “Kiara,” he said tiredly. “I’m not a good man. I’m not a decent man either. I don’t feel anything in regards to other people, which makes me so good at what I’m doing for the Camorra. And no matter what you might hope for, that won’t change.”

A small shiver passed down my spine. Nino didn’t only supervise the finances of the Camorra, he was also responsible for many acts of cruelty. Fabiano wasn’t the Camorra’s best torturer even if he was their official Enforcer, that much I’d figured by now. I’d seen small glimpses of Nino’s and Remo’s demons when they’d dealt with Durant, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. “But you care about me and your brothers?”

“I do,” he murmured. “But that’s the extent of my feelings.”

I swallowed. “What about children? Would you care for them?”

It was awkward, but I turned in the bath to face him.

Nino became still. He nudged my chin up so I had to meet his gaze. “You mean our children?”

“Yes,” I said quietly. His face stayed impassive. Could he ever love our children?

“You’re taking the pill.”

“I do. I’m not pregnant … I was just wondering.”

Nino nodded. I wished I knew what he was thinking, but his face didn’t give anything away. “I don’t know what I’ll feel for children. But I think I’d care for them as I care for you.”

I leaned forward and kissed him lightly, then retreated to turn and relaxed back against him. This was enough for now. My thoughts returned to Serafina. She must be terrified—how could she not be? I had been terrified when I’d been given to Nino, and I’d had time to prepare for my wedding. This girl had been taken by force, ripped away from her home, her family. What she knew about the Falcones, about Las Vegas, was likely even worse than what I had been told. After all, the Outfit and the Camorra were still at war, and after this kidnapping that would never change.

I shuddered.

Nino caressed my arm “Kiara,” he said quietly. “Don’t let this drag you back into the past.”

“It won’t, but it’s difficult for me to bear the thought of the girl’s terror.”

I felt Nino nod, trying to understand my pity but unable to grasp the concept. He didn’t care about Serafina. He couldn’t.

I linked our fingers. I’d try to be our conscience.

The water soon grew cold and Nino helped me out of the tub then proceeded to rub me dry. His touch left tingles in its wake as always but I didn’t allow myself to relax into it. We settled in bed, both naked, wrapped in each other. Nino was still aroused, but he made no move to initiate intimacy again.

I fell asleep in Nino’s arm, marveling at the power of love. Despite what I knew of Nino, of what he was capable of, I loved him.

CHAPTER 2

KIARA

Nino stirred and gently untangled himself from me. I watched through half closed eyes him getting dressed in a black shirt and jeans, not saying anything. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder at me before he left for the video recording. The moment the door closed, I swung myself out of bed and threw a bathrobe over my nightgown. I had an inkling where the recording would take place. I needed to see Serafina with my own eyes.

Even more than that, I needed to figure out a way to help the girl without betraying my new family—because that’s what the Falcones were.

I crept through the corridor and made my way toward the door that led into the basement.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I cried out in surprise and jumped away from the hot breath on my neck. Whirling around, I hit Savio’s chest hard.

A grin flitted across his face. “Ouch,” he said, rubbing the spot in exaggeration.

“You’re in an awfully good mood considering a girl is being tortured in the basement,” I said, turning and trying to continue, but Savio stepped in my way.

The amusement disappeared from his expression, which was a rare event. Savio always either smirked or grinned. “Someone’s always being tortured,” he said mockingly.

I couldn’t believe him. With Nino I understood why it didn’t bother him; it was his emotional disposition, but Savio didn’t have that excuse.