Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)
I searched his face as he stepped up next to me, looking for signs that what he’d been doing had bothered him, but he looked calm, which should have terrified me, but I was only relieved. Nino’s eyes followed C.J. as she walked off. Then he frowned at me.
“What did she say?”
“Nothing important,” I said with a smile.
Nino didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press the matter, only curled his hand around my wrist and led me out of the club.
The moment we were back home, we gathered in the living area, and Remo ordered pizza.
“How can you be hungry after what you’ve been doing?” I asked curiously as I sank down on the sofa.
Nino gave me a blank look. “The body still requires a certain calorie intake to keep up its functions.”
Remo rolled his eyes. “One of these days, I’m going to lose my shit on you when you sound like a fucking text book.”
Nino cocked his brows at his brother. “You’ve said it countless time. It loses its power if you never act on it.”
Remo pulled out his knife and flung it at Nino. I jumped as the knife impaled itself in the armrest beside Nino’s leg. “You, Savio, and Adamo are fucking nuisances.”
I smiled. “Thanks,” I said. When Remo gave me a blank stare, I added, “For not including me.”
“She’s getting too daring,” Remo muttered, but he didn’t look angry.
Nino looked relaxed, back to his usual calm self. Maybe he’d overcome whatever had haunted him last night. “Where’s Adamo? Is he still gone?”
Remo’s face darkened. “Adamo!” he roared. “Get your ass down here.” There was silence. Remo picked up the phone, ordered pizza, then called again. “Adamo, I swear, if you’re upstairs and don’t get down here right this second, I’ll come and get you, and you will fucking regret it.”
Steps sounded from upstairs and then Adamo appeared on the stairs. He hesitated in the middle of them, looking nervous as he regarded his older brothers.
“What did you do?” Nino asked.
Adamo glanced at Remo, who was snarling. “Don’t tell me you crashed my Bugatti.”
Adamo shook his head. “There’s only one dent in the back because someone bumped into me.”
Remo staggered toward his brother and gripped him by the collar. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to stop racing. You’ll get yourself killed.”
“So what? In a few weeks, I’ll be initiated. I’d do everyone a favor if I got killed before becoming like you.”
I held my breath. Nino, too, tensed beside me.
Remo pulled Adamo even closer, glaring down at him. “You are a fucking child. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe I protected you for too long. Maybe I should have initiated you sooner like Savio.”
“When did you ever protect me?”
Remo released him with a hard smile. “I ordered pizza. Or are you too good to eat with us?”
Adamo hovered on the staircase then slowly skulked down and moved toward us. He flung himself down on the sofa across from us. He gave me a smile then nodded toward Nino.
“Where’s Savio?” he mumbled.
“Out with Diego,” Remo said.
“Maybe you should go out more often too,” Adamo muttered.
Remo sat down beside Nino. “Someone has to make sure the west stays in our hands. I fought too hard for this to lose it because of laziness.”
I realized Remo and Nino hardly ever went out. With Nino, I’d thought it was because I was his wife now, but Remo, too, was mostly at home unless he was out doing business with his brothers or Fabiano. They lived in their own small world, a world I’d been allowed into. I was getting used to being a Falcone.
Nino and I returned to our bedroom after dinner and watching a few videos of past races with his brothers. We got ready for bed. I was sitting against the headboard when he joined me, looking almost wary. Was he worried about tonight?
“Did C.J. tell you I slept with her?” he asked quietly as he stretched out beside me.
“Yeah … she did. But it’s the past. I’m not holding your past against you. You didn’t hold mine against me.”
Nino frowned. “There was nothing I could have held against you because you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know,” I said.
“Do you?”
I sighed. On a logical level, I did, but sometimes I still felt like I was to blame, which was stupid, but it was something deeply ingrained in me and difficult to shake. “Do you ever feel guilty for what you do? For what you did today?”
Nino considered that. “Not really. As I said, I don’t really feel pity. And those Outfit bastards would have done the same if they got their hands on one of ours.”
I yawned. He lifted his arm, and I snuggled up to him, propping myself up on his chest, and kissed him softly. We seldom kissed, mostly just during sex.