Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)

“Daniele, it’s come to my attention that you intend to promise your daughter Gemma to Michelangelo.”

Technically, I was already promised, it wasn’t just planned, but I definitely wouldn’t voice my thoughts. Dad frowned, his worried gaze sliding from Savio to me. His eyes held questions. I knew what he was dreading: that I had ruined myself, that I’d let Savio have what my husband was supposed to be gifted. How could he even entertain the thought? He knew me.

“I hope you’ll reconsider your choice and give me the chance to fight for the right to your daughter’s hand.”

Fight for me?

Stunned silence descended on the room like a heavy drape. Heat shot into my head at the wave of attention heading my way. Mick looked as if someone had hit him over the head with a baseball bat. His face turned red, if from anger or embarrassment, I couldn’t say. His father didn’t look as angry as I would have thought, but given his expression when he’d seen our modest house, he was probably glad for the chance to get rid of me.

“Fight for my daughter’s hand?” Dad voiced my confusion.

Savio nodded. “The Camorra is strong because we value true strength over descent. We reward ambition and strength because our Capo, my brother, abides by a rule that’s held true from beginning of time: the law of the strongest and survival of the fittest.”

His voice was firm and confident, his expression fierce. No hint of doubt or insecurity reflected in any part of Savio’s appearance. A Falcone through and through, and damn him, it had an effect on me—and on the rest of the people in attendance. Savio could capture an audience like his brother Remo.

Savio only looked at my father, not once at Mick, me or anyone else. He knew who he had to convince first. “I’d like to fight Michelangelo for Gemma. The winner of the cage fight will get her as his wife.”

This was barbaric and old-fashioned, but it sent my stomach into a riot.

“This is ridiculous!” Mick said.

Dad met my gaze and leaned down. “Is there something I should know, angelo mio? I’ve put a lot of trust in you when I allowed you to learn to fight. I hope you didn’t break it.”

My eyes widened. “Of course not, Dad.”

“I was always with her anyway,” Diego added, which wasn’t exactly true. There had been moments when Savio and I had been alone, never long periods of time, but probably enough to do the deed if my research was accurate.

“My first kiss is going to happen in church on my wedding day,” I said firmly.

Diego lowered his voice another notch. “You should agree to Savio’s suggestion, Dad.”

I could have hugged him, but I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible with everyone watching.

“Haven’t we moved on from street brawls and duels?” Mick’s brother butted in, even though their father remained silent. He was the ruling Captain, so his reaction was the one we had to worry about. And he was definitely in favor of letting this play out.

“What do you say, Daniele? Gemma is your daughter, and it’s your right to decide over her future.”

Dad looked at Remo. “What do you say, Capo?”

Remo shook his head. “This is for you to decide. I don’t get involved in family matters. But it is true what my brother said, I honor strength over anything else.” His harsh gaze settled on Mick who squirmed visibly under the force of it. “This is your chance to prove yourself to your fellow Camorrista and show my brother his place.”

“I would be open to the suggestion,” Dad said.

Giddiness spread in me. There was no way Mick could ever beat Savio. I’d seen Savio in the cage. I had fought with him. He couldn’t be beaten by anyone but his brothers.

Mick’s fists were curled at his side as Savio stalked toward him. “What do you say, Michelangelo?” The challenge in Savio’s voice caused Mick’s face to turn even redder.

“I think we should ask Gemma if she’s okay with being fought over like a trophy,” Mick said, seeking my gaze.

I froze. This wasn’t about him giving me a real choice. He hadn’t really cared about my opinion when he’d asked my father for my hand without consulting with me first. This was his attempt to save his pride.

Still, guilt filled me, knowing I had to crush his heart. No matter how much Savio’s self-assured smile made me want to make him pay, I wouldn’t give up the chance to become his wife. I could still make him suffer thoroughly once we were engaged and suffer he would for this ordeal. Everyone was watching, waiting, and I tore my eyes away from Mick and Savio to look at Dad, like a good daughter would do. “If my father is open for the suggestion, then I’ll follow his judgment.”