Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

She nodded and moved to the sofa where she sank down in the middle.

“I hope she loses that submissive behavior soon. It’s fucking annoying,” Remo muttered.

“This is new for her. She wasn’t as tense when I was alone with her.”

Five minutes later, Fabiano sauntered in. He had a spare key and never bothered ringing the bell. “I need a scotch,” was the first thing out of his mouth. “Leona’s mother is a fucking nightmare. That woman smokes and shoots up more crystal than most people and manages to survive.”

“That’s because you offer her a free supply. Her tolerance to the substance grows,” I explained.

Fabiano glared. “I know. But if I don’t give it to her, the stupid whore will hit the streets again, and it fucking kills Leona to see her mother sucking ugly dicks.”

Kiara sucked in a soft breath on the sofa, and we all turned to her. She flushed. Fabiano reached over the bar counter and grabbed a bottle of scotch from the shelf then poured himself a generous glass. “Anyone else?”

“I’ll have one,” Savio said as he walked in, clapping Fabiano’s shoulder. “I hear you’re being pussy-whipped.”

Fabiano shoved him. “I can still wipe the floor with your ugly face, Savio, don’t forget that.”

Savio smiled cockily. “Not much longer. I’m a fucking natural when it comes to fighting.”

I opened the fridge under the bar and took two bottles of beer out, one for Remo and one for me, then glanced over at Kiara, who was focused on the TV. The local news was reporting about a fire that had burned down one of our soldier’s restaurants.

“Turn that off,” Savio shouted. “The fucking news grates on my nerves. They always get it wrong. “

Kiara jumped and quickly turned the TV off. “Mind your tone,” I said to Savio, who raised his eyebrows at me. I turned to Kiara. “What would you like to drink?”

Her eyes darted from me to my brothers and then Fabiano. “Something non-alcoholic, please.”

“Alcohol adds to the fun,” Savio said with a grin.

Kiara flinched. Adamo skidded down the stairs in that moment. “Get Kiara one of your Cokes from the kitchen,” I ordered.

He groaned but turned on his heel and went off. The pizza arrived shortly after. Fabiano and I carried it over to where Kiara sat and spread the boxes out on the wide table. I sat down beside her, and Remo took up her other side; it was his usual spot. Kiara’s shoulder stiffened, but she didn’t react any other way. I handed her the salad. “That’s yours.”

“I really don’t get why girls always eat salad. It annoys the fuck out of me,” Savio said as he grabbed a piece of his pizza.

Adamo threw himself down on the sofa between Fabiano and Savio, causing them to scowl at him. He handed a bottle of Coke to Kiara. She who took it, mumbling a thanks, and poured herself a glass.

“What’s on?” Adamo asked between bites.

“We tested a race in Kansas. It was a huge success,” Remo said eagerly, turning on the TV and opening the recording of the illegal street race.

“Cool,” Adamo said, eyes keen when the camera zoomed in on the line of cars.

Kiara ate quietly among us. If I closed my eyes, I wouldn’t have even known she was there at all, except when I got the whiff of her flowery perfume. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable surrounded by so many men, and the alcohol seemed to bother her additionally. She’d have to get used to it. This was how it always was in our home.

“Maybe we can convince Vitiello to extend the races into his territory,” Savio suggested.

“I don’t think Luca wants to cooperate with us any longer than he has to. We all know that this truce won’t last forever. Then all bets are off.”

Kiara shifted. I inclined my head toward her, but she was focused on the salad.

Fabiano cocked an eyebrow at me as if I knew what was going on in her head.

“It would do Luca good to remember that he’s lucky having us on his side,” Remo said, reaching for a piece of my pizza; we usually all shared pizzas. He leaned over Kiara’s legs to reach the box, brushing up against her leg. She gasped, jerked back, and dropped her salad. Pressed up against the backrest, chest heaving, she regarded Remo as if he was going to jump her. His eyes narrowed, and I knew this wasn’t going to go over well. “What the fuck is wrong with you, woman?” he growled. “I was going to grab a fucking piece of pizza, not grope you. I have no intention of fucking you, not now, not ever. For one, there’s no fun in breaking someone broken, and secondly you are Nino’s, so he’s the only one who’s going to get your pussy. Nobody else is going to touch you like that, got it?”