Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles 3)

I laughed. He had me there. If someone had told me on the day of my almost wedding to Danilo that I’d ever consider becoming a Falcone, I would have laughed in their face. So much had changed since then. I hardly knew the girl from back then anymore. She had been replaced by someone stronger.

Adamo lightly tugged at my hand and indicated toward the gardens. “Come. They’re all waiting, and you know how Remo is. Patience isn’t his strength.”

No, it wasn’t, but he’d waited for me more than once.

Adamo led me out of the mansion and past the pool toward the small congregation down the lawn.

My bare feet touched the warm grass, and then I spotted Remo at the end of the aisle below a white wood arc, and a sense of rightness filled me. Blood-red roses trailed around the arc, contrasting beautifully with the white. Kiara had arranged everything with Leona’s help.

It wasn’t a big feast with hundreds of guests, most of whom neither of us would have cared about. It was just us, Remo’s brothers, Fabiano, Kiara, Leona, and the twins, and it felt perfect that way. By not inviting every Underboss of the Camorra, Remo had risked insulting a lot of people, but knowing him he didn’t give a damn and his soldiers probably knew better than to voice their displeasure should they feel it.

In his dark slacks, black dress shirt, and blood-red vest, Remo was a sight to behold. Tall and dark and brutally handsome. His eyes scorched me even from afar, and one corner of his mouth pulled up in that twisted smile, always on the verge of darkness, that I’d come to love.

“Ready?” Adamo asked when we arrived at the starting point of the long aisle of white petals. I didn’t even want to know how long Kiara and Leona had spent arranging them neatly in a pathway, but they had insisted on doing it.

“Yes,” I could say it without doubt, without hesitation.

Everyone had gathered to both sides of the arc. Kiara held Greta in her arms and Nino held Nevio. I couldn’t wait for them to be parents as well. And then I caught sight of a blond head off to the side, away from the rest, at the very fringes, and my throat tightened up. My gaze locked with Samuel’s. He stood with his hands shoved inside his pockets, his expression unreadable. For a moment I was completely immobilized by my emotions. Pure joy and a flicker of worry, because there definitely wasn’t peace between the Camorra and the Outfit. I pushed the last sentiment aside, focusing on the fact that my twin, my Samuel was here on one of the most important days of my life.

Adamo and I started walking down the aisle. I still wished Sam was the one walking beside me, but I understood why he couldn’t, why his pride didn’t allow him to hand me over to Remo.

My gaze drew away from Samuel toward the man who had captured my heart with wild abandon. Remo’s dark eyes held mine as I headed toward him. When we arrived in the front, Greta spotted me and gave me a huge grin. A single petal stuck to the corner of her mouth. That was why Kiara had only bought edible flowers. She was just perfect with kids.

My heart overflowed with love for all of them. Nevio stood beside Nino, or rather held onto his leg, but I could tell that he was growing tired of standing still. He’d soon roam the gardens on unsteady legs.

I let go of Adamo and took Remo’s outstretched hand. Smiling up at Remo, I whispered. “How? How did you get Samuel to come?” My eyes darted to my twin for a moment, disbelieving, incredulous, and so impossibly happy.

I looked back up to Remo, trying to hold back my emotions.

Remo ran his thumb over the back of my hand, his dark eyes filled with warmth he didn’t bestow on many.

“I swore he’d be safe if he came. I used your phone to call him. It was a difficult process.”

I swallowed. I could imagine how much time and effort it had cost to convince Samuel to come here, to risk so much. And I knew that Remo would have to let go of some of his pride to make a step toward my brother, the enemy. He’d done it for me. “He tortured you, almost killed you…”

Remo squeezed my hand. “I did worse. I took you from him. If I was him, I wouldn’t forgive me either.”

“Thank you for bringing him here, Remo.” I touched his chest, hoping he could see just how fiercely I loved him.

“Whatever’s in there, it’s yours,” he said with a dark smile.

“And I love every part of it, of you, the good, the bad, the light, the dark, even your blackest corners.”