Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

Luca raised his eyebrows.

“Why don’t we get back to business,” I suggested. “You need peace. We need peace. You want Cavallaro and Scuderi dead. We will kill them.”

Remo opened his arms. “And to show you that we are very serious about truce with you and the Famiglia, I want us to arrange a marriage between one of yours and one of mine.”

Matteo chuckled. “Oh, this is getting good.”

“We’re being serious,” I said because Remo’s expression worried me. I could tell that Matteo was starting to seriously piss him off. “Arranged marriages between Famiglias have ensured peace for centuries, and your Famiglia has always upheld the tradition. You and Aria are proof that it’s the perfect solution.”

Luca’s mouth tightened when I mentioned Fabiano’s sister. “It was supposed to bring peace with the Outfit and now there’s war.”

“Well,” Remo said, gesturing at Matteo and Romero, “that was your Famiglia’s doing. I can assure you we will uphold our part of the deal.”

“If I gave one of our women to the Camorra, who would guarantee she was safe?” Luca asked.

“Our women are as safe as your women, trust me. They have nothing to fear in our territory,” I said. Nothing that they wouldn’t have to fear in every marriage in our circles, at least.

Luca’s mouth curled in distaste as he regarded my brother. “I won’t give a woman to you in marriage, Remo. I don’t trust you one bit. You are too fucking crazy for my taste.”

“I’m not the one who will marry. It’s my brother Nino, and you will find that he’s absolutely in control of himself. Look at him. Doesn’t he look like every mother-in-law’s dream?”

I gave my brother a warning look before I turned to Luca. “It’s a good deal for the Famiglia and the Camorra. Don’t let old grudges or feuds ruin your chances of optimizing the Famiglia’s profits and securing your territory.”

“This is ridiculous,” Matteo said, but Luca was silent. He was a businessman. He knew what safe delivery routes through our territory could mean for him. Luca motioned for his brother and Romero to follow him. They walked out of earshot.

Remo smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re smiling about. This isn’t Texas Hold ’em. Going all in isn’t the way to go,” Fabiano murmured. “This is a fucking train wreck.”

“Luca will agree,” I said firmly.

My brother and Fabiano looked at me curiously.

“Are you sure?” Remo asked.

“Luca isn’t the man he used to be before he had his wife and children. He won’t risk open war with the Outfit, but he wants Dante dead and he prefers us on his side. If you have something to lose like he does, you choose the safe option.”

Romero walked toward us.

“He’s the one who broke truce with the Outfit by popping your sister’s cherry, right?” Remo whispered.

Fabiano grimaced. “He did, and I let them fucking shoot me so they could escape. I was a fucking idiot.”

Romero regarded us with open distrust. “Luca will consider your offer. We have another drug delivery in three days. If it reaches our territory safely, we can discuss a truce in more detail.”

“It will arrive safely, don’t worry,” Remo muttered.

Romero nodded. “Luca wants you to leave New York now. We will contact you in a few days if everything goes as planned.”

“Everything will go as planned,” Remo said, grinning widely. “Luca better start looking for a wife for my brother. We’re looking forward to meeting her.”

CHAPTER 3

KIARA

Despite the warmer temperatures that March brought, I was glad for my thick wool sweater. I’d never grown used to the colder climate of Baltimore. The weather in Atlanta had been so much warmer. My fingers were stiff as I settled them on the piano keys and began to play. Melancholic low notes of music filled the room, a reflection of my current emotions. I had started fiddling with the composition a couple of days ago, but it was still far from good.

When my aunt stepped into the living room, perfectly styled—as always—in a beige cashmere dress, her dark hair piled on top of her head, I lifted my hands off the keys and the sound died off in a soft exhale.

Uncle Felix entered behind her. He was a tall man, heavy around the middle, with a mustache that twitched when he talked. They exchanged a look and something heavy settled in my stomach.

“We need to have a word with you,” Felix said.

I got up from the bench and followed them toward the seating area. They sat on the couch, and I took the armchair across from them. It felt like I was facing a tribunal.

“It hasn’t been easy on us, taking you in,” Felix began, and I curled my fingers into the leather of the armchair. It wasn’t the first time I heard it, but it still stung. “But we did what we could. We gave you what we could to raise you.”