Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)

“I don’t mean now. I mean someday.”

That was probably a topic we should have broached before we married. “I do, but not in the next ten years. I want Remo’s and Nino’s kids out of the crazy age.”

Gemma laughed. “Does the crazy age ever end?”

“With Nevio probably not,” I muttered. “What about you?”

“I want kids, but like you, I’m not in a hurry, even if it’ll break Mom’s heart. She’s already dreaming about getting her first grandkid next year.”

Relief flooded me. With Gemma’s traditional upbringing, it would have made sense for her to pop out a baby soon. “Then Toni and Diego better get it going because we sure as fuck won’t produce little Gemmas anytime soon.”

She raised her head. “What about little Savios?”

“Too much work.”

Gemma grinned and kissed me.

The day after our first shared intimacy and our talk, I was almost delirious with happiness.

Savio had really allowed us to get closer, and not only on a physical level. It was difficult for him to allow honest emotions; I could see that now. Everything was tinged with humor, sarcasm, or arrogance. It was his armor, his way to cope with a cruel past and a brutal present.

While he and his brothers brought Adamo to the airport so he could return to the hub of the racing scene, I tried my hand at some baking. So far I’d stayed clear of the kitchen because I didn’t want to intrude on Kiara’s territory, but she’d encouraged me to see it as my own. Maybe she wanted help cooking for so many people. No one else seemed to be able to prepare a decent meal except for her. It was one of the things Nonna had taught me when I was a little girl. I cherished the memories of our baking and cooking adventures.

Wistfulness overcame me as I prepared her famous pistachio cannoli. They took time, but they were worth it in the end. When the dough was in the oven and the pistachio cream in the fridge, I grabbed my phone.

When Mom picked up, she sounded hoarse.

“What’s wrong?”

“The flu, nothing to worry about.”

Easily said, but she didn’t have Nonna as support anymore. She coughed. “Should I come over and help you? Maybe bring you some soup?”

“Your aunt is coming over in the afternoon with chicken broth, but if you could take Carlotta, that would be wonderful. Your sister misses you anyway.”

“I’ll pick her up.”

I waited for the cannoli to be done before I went in search of Kiara and Serafina. The dough needed to cool off anyway before I could fill it with the cream.

Kiara sat on the sofa with her two boys, looking at a picture book.

“Do you know when Savio and his brothers will be back?”

Kiara shook her head. “I think they wanted to head to a casino to speak to the manager after dropping Adamo off, so it could be a while. Why?”

“I promised my mother to pick up Carlotta, and I hoped Savio could drive me there.”

“I’m not a very good driver, or I’d offer to drive you. It gives me anxiety.”

“I have a license, but I don’t have much experience driving.” Not to mention that said license wasn’t exactly legal and my experience consisted of trying to drive twice while Diego screamed at me not to crash his car.

“Serafina is at ballet with Greta. You could take one of the cars and drive yourself.”

“Which of the cars are Savio’s?”

“The Bugatti and the Ferrari, and that one Audi.”

All of them were sports cars of course. I took the keys to the Bugatti because I found them first in the heap of car keys belonging to the Falcone car park.

Once inside the car, my stomach plummeted. I’d completely forgotten that most European cars were stick shift. After some cursing and fumbling, the Bugatti roared to life, making me jump. It took a few more tries before I figured out to get it to drive without killing the engine. The next problem arose in front of the gate. I’d parked too close so it couldn’t open. That was the moment I gave up on the whole thing. If I couldn’t even get the car off the premises, driving through Vegas sounded like an extraordinarily bad idea. Fumbling with the stick once more, I pressed down on the gas. A second too late, I realized the car wasn’t in reverse. I shoved my foot down on the brakes. Too late. With a leap, I crashed into the gates.

Heart beating wildly, I got out of the car wide-eyed to inspect the damage. The hood of the car was compressed, smoke rose up and some kind of liquid dripped down, probably cooling liquid. The gates weren’t in much better shape than the car. Savio was obsessed with his car. And Remo probably wouldn’t be too happy about me destroying his gates either. What a wonderful way to start off with my new family.