Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles 3)

Dante stepped back and gestured at the other men. “Who wants to go first? You are the ones who are closer to Serafina.”

Adamo winced and looked at Samuel, who took a step forward. “I want to go first.”

Tears stung in my eyes. Please don’t, Sam.

Samuel moved toward Adamo and punched him hard. Adamo’s head fell back, blood spraying out of his nose as it broke. I rose slowly from my chair, ignoring the stare from the man beside me. Samuel brought his knife down on Adamo’s stomach and left a long cut. Adamo cried and lashed out with his free hand, but Samuel grabbed it and twisted the hand back, breaking it. I took a step back, my hand covering my mouth. I had never seen Samuel like this. I knew what he was, what they all were. This wasn’t right. I had to stop them somehow.

“See, Remo, your brother will bleed in your stead. We’ll tear him apart piece by piece for what you did to my sister. He will suffer for you,” Samuel snarled. In that moment, little of my twin was left. A Made Man, a monster. Just because I never saw his monstrous side didn’t mean Samuel was less of a monster than any other of the men in our world.

Dad pushed away from the wall, gripped Adamo’s free arm, and jerked it back with a sickening crunch. He had a look on his face I had never seen. Adamo’s screams blared through the speakers, and I began running.

Adamo didn’t deserve this. And with their actions, they would make everything worse because Remo would seek retribution. He would attack viciously, would maim and kill, would leave nothing in his wake, and whatever the outcome, I would lose someone I cared about. Either my family members or the father of my children.

I followed the screams to the last door and burst through it then froze as the smell of burning flesh filled my nose. Adamo was screaming as Danilo was holding a lighter to his forearm, burning away the Camorra tattoo.

“Enough!” I cried. I stormed forward and pushed him aside before either of them could grab me. Danilo’s eyes flashed with fury, and all the men stared at me. “Enough!” I screamed. “Enough!”

Adamo groaned and I turned to him, kneeling before him. Only a small part of his tattoo had been burned away, and the skin was blistered and red. I touched his shoulder and he flinched. “Adamo,” I whispered.

He raised his head a few inches, teary eyes meeting mine. A weak smile pulled at his lips. “Serafina.” How he could still sound friendly after what had been done to him was a mystery to me.

A shadow fell over me and I looked up. Samuel. “Fina, you should leave. He gets what he deserves.”

“He is a boy,” I said. “And he always treated me with kindness.”

“He is a Falcone,” Danilo said, stepping forward with the lighter still in his hand. His eyes were hard and merciless. “You were punished for something Outfit soldiers did. Adamo will pay for something his brother did.”

“I suffered for your sins,” I spat at them. “And he suffers for Remo’s. I’m sick of it. This ends here. Adamo won’t suffer any more pain under your hands.”

“That isn’t your call to make,” Dante said firmly.

I looked back at Adamo, who looked resigned and had begun shaking. A phone rang and Dante picked it up. “Remo.”

I jerked, my eyes widening.

REMO

Kiara was asleep with her head in Nino’s lap. It was early afternoon, so I didn’t understand how she could be tired. Maybe Nino kept her awake all night. I frowned then drew my gaze back to the screen where the race was playing out. The number of participants was staggering. They had to start from different spots, all the same distance from Kansas City, to divert the attention of the police. A few of them would be arrested like usual, but that was part of the game. Eventually the different routes would merge to one for the last 100 miles before the end.

Car racing brought in good money, but I didn’t really care for it. I preferred cage fighting.

Savio ate another bite of the cake Kiara had baked. “Do you think Adamo has a crush on that whore?”

“C.J.,” Nino said.

“Whatever. He’s been in the Sugar Trap an awful lot. They’re definitely fucking. And come on, he spent the night with her again. What is he doing with her? Cuddling? He can’t fuck her for hours. I’m surprised he gets one up at all. If he had to pay for her, he’d be broke by now.”

I shrugged. I didn’t care if Adamo fucked a whore or not. I’d never seen him talk to any of the other whores, though. It worried me, not to mention that it wasn’t the first night he’d spent with the whore at the Sugar Trap. Fucking her was okay, but spending so much time with her could definitely prove to be a problem.