Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles 3)

“Remo won’t …” Fabiano trailed off and grimaced.

Pushing past my fear, I moved closer to Fabiano and gripped his arms. “If you are unwilling to help me, then at least tell me what I can do to stop Remo from hurting me. What does he want from me?”

Fabiano stepped back, so I had to release him. “Remo hates weakness. And in his eyes women are weak.”

“So I’m at the mercy of a man who hates women.”

“He hates weakness. But you are strong, Serafina.” He turned and left, closing the heavy door and locking me in.

I whirled around, my eyes scanning the surroundings for something I could use against Remo, but there was nothing, and he wasn’t a man who could be beaten in a fight. Strong? Was I strong? It didn’t feel that way right now. Fear pounded in my chest, in every fiber of my body.

My eyes darted to the mattress once more. Yesterday Danilo was supposed to claim me on satin sheets in the holy bond of matrimony. Today Remo would break me on a dirty mattress like a common whore.

I braced myself against the rough stone wall, fighting my rising panic. All my life I had been raised to be proud and noble, honorable and well-behaved, and it didn’t protect me.

The creak of the door made me tense, but I didn’t turn to see who had entered. I knew who it was, could feel his cruel eyes on me.

I peered up at the camera once more. Everything that happened would be recorded and sent to my uncle, fiancé, and father. And worse … Samuel. I swallowed. They would see me at my worst. I wouldn’t let it come to that. I’d hold my head high no matter what happened.

“Are you ignoring me?” Remo asked from close behind me, and a small shiver shot down my spine.

“Does that ever work?” I said, wishing my voice came out stronger, but it was already a fight forcing those four words out of my tight throat.

“No,” Remo said. “I’m difficult to ignore.”

Impossible to ignore.

“Turn around,” Remo ordered.

I didn’t move, focusing on the gray stone in front of me. It wasn’t only an act of defiance. My legs refused to move. Fear kept me frozen, but Remo didn’t need to know that.

His hot breath ghosted over my neck, and I closed my eyes, wedging my lower lip between my teeth to stifle a sound. “Open disobedience?” he asked in a low voice. His palms pressed down on my shoulder blades, and I almost crumpled under their weight, even though he didn’t put much pressure behind the touch.

“On second thought,” he said gently. “This position works well too.”

The soft clink of a blade being unsheathed made me jump. Remo braced himself to both sides of me, a long dagger in one hand. His chest pressed up against my back. “I’ll give you a choice, Serafina. You can either get out of your dress by yourself or I’ll cut you out of it. What is it?”

I swallowed. I had expected another choice, one Vegas was famous for. A rush of relief filled me, but it was short-lived. I shifted my hand and covered the blade with my palm then curled my fingers around the cold steel.

“If you give me your knife, I’ll cut myself out of my dress,” I bit out.

Remo chuckled. A dark, joyless sound. “You want my knife?”

I nodded, and to my utter shock, Remo released the handle, and I held his dagger by the blade, the sharp edge cutting into my flesh. Remo stepped back, his warmth leaving my body. I stared at the deadly weapon in my hand. Slowly, drawing in a deep breath, I straightened and reached for the handle. I knew Remo hadn’t given me a fair chance. He was playing with me, trying to break my spirit by showing me that even a knife didn’t change the fact that I was at his mercy.

What he didn’t know was that Samuel and I had spent all our lives fighting with each other, like siblings always do, but when he’d become a Made Man, he started working with me on my fighting skills because he knew how our world treated women. He had tried to make me strong, and I was. I knew how to handle a knife, how to defeat an opponent. But I had never won against Samuel, and he was always careful not to hurt me. Remo was stronger than Samuel, and he would hurt me, would enjoy it. I could not beat Remo in a fight, not even when I had a knife and he didn’t.

Fabiano’s words flashed through my mind. Remo hates weakness. Even if I couldn’t beat Remo, I could show him I wasn’t weak.

“Maybe I should take my knife back since you don’t know what to do with it,” Remo said, almost disappointed. He stepped closer.