Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

Nino’s gray eyes met mine, and I flushed. How long had I been staring? I quickly ducked my head and felt a rush of relief when he opened the door to a library. It made the one I’d had access to in Baltimore look like a measly broom closet. Situated in the back of the main wing, it was two stories high, and the shelves reached all the way to the top. A ladder on small wheels leaned against every row and reached the books at the very top. My heart skipped a beat as I tried to guess the number of books.

“Wow,” I breathed.

“I should give you fair warning: our selection of fiction titles is limited. Most of them are old classics or horrid bodice-rippers my mother used to read when she still lived here. I don’t read fiction and have switched over to buying books in ebook format since it simplifies storage and accessibility.”

I only half-listened as I walked through the nearest aisle, my eyes gliding over the spines. There were books about history and science, medicine and warfare. Classics like 1984 and Animal Farm, Jane Eyre and every play written by Shakespeare. Then I spotted the entire Harry Potter series, the spines cracked as if the books had been read too often. I touched the first book. I’d read it in the darkest time of my life and finding refuge in the world of those books had been the only light for me. I stopped, drawing in a deep breath. Books and music had always been my salvation. The scent of old leather and dusty paper was pure comfort. I could spend a lifetime in this room and die happy.

When I finally turned away from the books, I caught Nino watching me with a small frown. I flushed. I must have looked like a lunatic, inhaling the library scent and smiling to myself.

I cleared my throat. “Are there any parts off limits for me?”

Nino raised his dark eyebrows. “Like the Dark Arts area?”

I froze, speechless, frozen, and utterly shocked. I swallowed. “Did you … did you just make a Harry Potter reference?” He must have noticed me touching the books.

“I did,” he said dryly, and I had to stifle laughter.

“Don’t tell me you read the books.”

“I didn’t read them for my own enjoyment. I read them to Adamo when we were on the run. He was obsessed with them, and Remo didn’t have the necessary patience to read bedtime stories. Besides, he had a habit of letting the Death Eaters and Voldemort win, and that upset Adamo when he was little.”

I laughed then fell silent, confused and overwhelmed by everything that I’d found out about Nino in these past few days. He was a man of many layers, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to fully grasp the top layer. I walked over to him. “It must have been hard to protect your little brother when you were fighting for your territory.”

Nino shrugged. “It was difficult, but Remo and I killed anyone who posed the slightest risk to Savio or Adamo. We couldn’t bother asking too many questions. The motto we lived by was kill first. Once we had established a stronghold on the territory, we made sure to torture people for information before we killed them.”

I looked up at him, trying to imagine what it must have been like back then. During the day Nino and Remo slaughtered their enemies and at night they came together in whatever dingy place they were hiding in at the time and read bedtime stories to Adamo and Savio.

“You confuse me,” I admitted quietly.

Nino nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a compliment I can return.”

“Thanks,” I said then cleared my throat.

“I’ll show you the gardens now. You can roam the premises as you please but stay out of Remo’s and Savio’s wing, especially Remo’s. He won’t take it kindly if he finds you in his domain.” I nodded. I had absolutely no intention of going anywhere near Remo if I could avoid it. “Adamo probably won’t mind you being in his space, but he’s a pig and a teenager, so you will see and smell things not intended for females.”

I laughed again, and Nino regarded me curiously. My cheeks heated under his scrutiny. He reached out and brushed a fingertip over my burning skin, almost as if he was trying to make sense of my reaction. I didn’t pull back, growing more and more confused by the second.

“You wanted to show me the gardens?” I croaked, clearing my throat again.

He dropped his hand and turned. I followed a step behind him, trying to understand my husband, but he was an enigma.

There was something I noticed on our way through the gaming room heading toward the garden. “I don’t see guards anywhere.”

“We don’t need them. Even Adamo is capable of defending himself,” Nino said as he led me toward a square swimming pool. “I swim laps in this pool every morning. My brothers occasionally use it for the same purpose, but they prefer more hands-on workouts.”