Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles 3)

I waited for Adamo in the cage, but he took his sweet ass time getting ready. When he finally shuffled toward me, I really wished he were someone else because I wanted to viciously destroy my opponent. Adamo climbed in and closed the door before he faced me.

He had grown these last few months. He was still much scrawnier than Nino and me, and even Savio, but he was filling out nicely despite his reluctance to fight. His arms hung limply at his side as he watched me with apprehension.

“Come on, kiddo. Show me what you got.”

“Don’t call me kiddo,” he grumbled.

I smiled challengingly. “Make me. So far nothing I’ve seen has hinted at you being more than a sulking kid.”

He curled his hands to fists, eyes narrowing.

Better.

“At least I don’t enjoy hurting girls.”

So that was what had his panties in a bunch. “You don’t enjoy doing anything else with them either,” I taunted, trying to finally get him to act on his anger. I couldn’t give any less fucks if Adamo was a virgin or not. I didn’t understand it one bit, but he could fuck whomever, whenever, however he wanted.

“I like girls.”

“Not their pussies, obviously.”

He flushed bright red. We still had a lot of work to do.

“Have you kissed a girl at least?” I took a step closer to him.

He looked away and my smile widened. “Who was it? A girl from school? Or a whore after all?”

His eyes flashed with anger, and he charged at me. His kick was surprisingly well placed, but I blocked it with both of my forearms then punched Adamo’s side hard—not nearly as hard as I wanted, though. He gasped but still sent several punches my way.

We found a good rhythm, and I could see Adamo getting into it, as if this was one of his annoying video games. I had to admit I enjoyed the sparring. It wasn’t more than that, though, because if I had really fought Adamo, the kid would have been on the ground. Eventually, we leaned against the cage, sipping water and dripping sweat.

“I didn’t think you’d hold back. I thought you wanted to kick my ass because I’m a fucking disappointment in your eyes.”

I lowered the bottle. “What makes you think I held back?”

He snorted. “You are the strongest fighter I know. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”

“Not yet. Maybe one day. And you aren’t a disappointment.”

He shook his head. “I’ll never be like you and Nino or even Savio.”

“I don’t want you to be like any of us. I only want you to be a Falcone and be proud of it.”

Adamo stared at me with a frown then looked down at his bottle. “Can we do another round?”

“Sure,” I said, even if I was eager to return to Serafina.

“Don’t hold back as much this time,” Adamo said.

My lips pulled wide, and I set the bottle down. I should have fought with Adamo before.

SERAFINA

I lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, worrying about my family, especially Samuel. He was so protective of me, what if he did something stupid like attack and get himself killed? I wanted to be saved but if something happened to Sam, I wouldn’t survive. I’d rather suffer pain and endure Remo’s presence than see my brother get hurt.

A heavy weight settled in my stomach when I remembered the look in his eyes when Remo had put the knife against my skin. That look had hurt so much more than the shallow cut. But the cut had given me an important piece of information about Remo. He had a weakness, and it had something to do with those scars and his brothers.

Steps sounded in front of my door and someone knocked. I sat up, surprised. Nobody had bothered to knock.

The lock sounded and the door swung open as I stood, and a young woman with dark hair and dark eyes, wearing a red summer dress, stepped in. She was shorter than me, and must be the source of the clothes Remo had brought me to wear; it explained why the maxi dress I was wearing ended mid-calf.

I had never met her, but I knew who she was. Not a single person in our world didn’t know her.

“Kiara Vitiello,” I said. The poor Famiglia woman who was thrown to the Falcone wolves to be devoured. Everyone had heard of that union. It had been the gossip of the year among Outfit women. I had only felt pity for the girl, but she didn’t appear as if she needed or wanted it.

“Kiara Falcone now, but yes, that’s me.” She looked over her shoulder with a small frown, and I followed her gaze, finding Nino Falcone standing behind her.

“You don’t have to stay. Serafina and I are going to talk. She poses no danger to me.”