Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

His palm and fingers were littered with scars and burns.

“You are supposed to take my hand so we can dance,” he said in what I assumed was annoyance.

Suppressing a shudder, I slipped my hand into his. I didn’t look up into his face. It would have been my undoing. His fingers closed around my hand with less pressure than I had expected, and his other hand gently touched my back and pulled me against him. My body clenched, my breathing caught in my throat. I had to hold in a gasp. He led me along to the music, but my trembling didn’t make it easy for him. He tightened his hold on me, bringing us closer, and I exhaled sharply at the feel of his hard body against mine.

My fingers on his bicep began slipping as I fought against the impending panic attack.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

I couldn’t.

“Look at me.” A low murmur full of command, and I finally met his gaze. His expression wasn’t angry, more assessing, as if he was sizing me up. “This is dancing. Don’t make it into something more than that because you let your imagination run free.”

I was momentarily startled. He sounded a lot like Nino; maybe he hid his intelligence behind his layers of violence.

“Now pretend you are a happy bride. This is a day of celebration,” he said, and his own lips formed a scary smile.

I tried my best to relax in his hold, to make my face look pleasant, but I wasn’t sure if I succeeded. I counted the seconds till the end of the song, but when it finally ended, Uncle Durant appeared at our side and terror from the past took hold of me. I dug my nails into Remo, clinging to him, undoubtedly leaving marks with my fingernails.

“I would like to dance with my niece now,” Uncle Durant said to Remo, but his eyes were on me, full of knowledge and triumph as always.

He hadn’t touched me since those nights. I clutched Remo tightly, looking up at him. His dark eyes regarded me, narrowing ever so slightly. Please don’t let me dance with him. The words didn’t leave my mouth. Durant reached for me, but Remo angled us so he was between my uncle and me.

Remo turned his gaze to my uncle, but he didn’t let go of me. “I can’t allow that unfortunately. My brother wants her back at his side.”

“It’s tradition in the Famiglia,” Uncle Durant said. “Maybe you don’t care about traditions over in Vegas, but here we do.”

Remo’s lips pulled wider, and I realized then that his smiles for me had been genuine; he was being nice. This smile had a sinister feel to it. “We honor our traditions as well. In Vegas, it’s tradition that I cut out the tongues of people who annoy the fuck out of me. If you insist on your traditions, I will have to insist on mine. And your tongue will look good in my collection.”

Uncle Durant’s face turned red. His angry gaze settled on me briefly, and I pressed into Remo, but then my uncle moved away.

“You can release me now,” Remo muttered.

I unfastened my hold and stepped back, ashamed. Remo held onto my hand, not allowing me to go. His thumb pressed against my wrist in a similar way like Nino had.

“What was that?” Remo asked in a low, dangerous voice.

“Nothing. I don’t like him.”

“That was not dislike, Kiara,” he said, still in that terrifying voice. His fingers pressed harder into my wrist. I risked a peek at him. His eyes were narrowed at me, as if he could see into the deepest, darkest corners of my soul. “Dislike wouldn’t have made you seek protection in my arms, trust me.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me. I am your Capo now.”

Nothing would make me reveal my secret, not even Remo’s terrifying scowl. “I didn’t ask for your protection,” I whispered.

He stepped closer, and I cringed. “You begged me for protection. Unlike Nino, I have no trouble reading your emotions.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant.

“You didn’t have to protect me. I’m not your responsibility.”

“You are a Falcone now. My brother’s wife. You fall under my rule. That makes you mine to protect.”

He tightened his grip on my wrist, ignoring my flinching, and dragged me off the dance floor toward Nino, who raised his eyebrows at his brother. Remo practically shoved me into Nino’s arm. Despite my tension, Nino wrapped an arm around my waist and left it there. “That was her last dance with anyone but us,” Remo ordered. “I don’t give a fuck about their traditions. She is under our rule now.”

Nino narrowed his eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Remo said. “But her family is starting to piss me off.”

Nino glanced between his brother and me but didn’t say anymore. After that, I didn’t have to dance again.