Twisted Bonds (The Camorra Chronicles 4)

“Remo’s got you,” I said, propping my chin up on Nino’s shoulder. The frown eased. Nino and Remo had survived so much together, they’d get through this as well.

I grinned when I saw the set-up in the living area in our wing. Nino had bought a TV and set it up across from the sofa. The small table was loaded with dips, chips, veggie sticks, sushi and Leona’s favorite cupcakes—raspberry with a cream cheese frosting.

The bell rang out in the main part of the house. I hurried toward the gaming room and when I arrived, Fabiano and Leona were already waiting. The men would be watching fights and races while Leona and I would have some girl time. I hugged her and she smiled, looking as excited as I felt. With a wave, we left the men to their own devices.

“I hope you had a wonderful birthday yesterday?” I asked. I’d sent Leona a text, congratulating her from Nino and me, and today was our evening to celebrate a bit.

“Fabiano and I had a late breakfast in a cute café not too far from our apartment, and in the evening, we drove to our favorite stop and had a picnic there. It was really romantic.”

I grinned, then pointed at her necklace, a beautiful gold chain with a diamond pendant. “Fabiano’s gift?”

She touched the necklace and bit her lip. “Yeah. I bet it cost a fortune. How am I going to compete with that for his birthday in November?”

“Fabiano doesn’t expect you to buy him anything expensive.”

She shrugged. “I know. He gave me a card for his bank account, but I always feel strange using it. Though it doesn’t even matter anymore. Fabiano’s paying so much for college and for everything else. I can never pay him back.”

“He doesn’t want the money back. He wants you.”

Leona flushed and didn’t say anything. Then she saw the cupcakes. “You baked my favorites?”

“I hope you’ll like them. It’s the first time I tried this recipe. The frosting I tasted was delicious.”

We settled on the sofa, shoulder against shoulder, and I turned the TV on. “I chose Jane Eyre, The Devil Wears Prada and After You.”

“That’s so great. I don’t even remember the last time I watched a romantic movie. Fabiano hates them and refuses to watch them with me no matter how much I beg him.”

“I never ask Nino to watch them with me,” I said with a giggle, taking a piece of sushi. “He doesn’t really like fiction or movies. He prefers documentaries and that sort of thing.”

“With him I get it. He wouldn’t really understand all the emotional stuff, but Fabiano could if he wanted to.”

I shrugged. I hadn’t told Leona about Nino’s recent development, about how he’d told me he loved me and meant it, how he didn’t have to simulate emotion for me anymore. It seemed like such a personal thing that sharing it would have felt like betrayal.

Leona dipped a carrot stick in the sweet potato hummus I’d made, then her gaze went to the ceiling as if she was looking at something above us. “It feels weird that we have a girl’s night while another girl is locked up in Remo’s bedroom somewhere on the upper floor.”

“She’s got her own bedroom,” I said, as if that made things better.

Leona raised an eyebrow and we both started laughing. Leona covered her eyes, shaking her head and her smile fell. “I really can’t believe this is reality. My life’s always been different but now it’s reached a new level of weird.”

I sobered. “I know. But Serafina is well, considering everything that’s going on. I wish she could be down here with us, but Remo and Nino would never allow it.”

Leona nodded. “Fabiano warned me not to talk to Remo about it. He says his Capo is a bit tense at the moment.”

“He is. Things with Serafina are complicated.”

Leona tilted her head, regarding me with a confused look. “Complicated how?”

I bit my lip. “I don’t know. I think there might be feelings involved on both sides.”

Leona choked. “You think Remo Falcone has feelings for a woman?”

I reached for the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc Nino had opened for me and poured both Leona and me a generous amount. Leona didn’t know Remo as well as I did—not that I really knew him. “Maybe I’m wrong, but … just forget it. Let’s not talk about it.” I raised my glass and Leona clinked hers against mine.

I turned on the TV. My own eyes occasionally strayed to the ceiling, wondering what Serafina was doing and feeling guilty, but eventually the amount of alcohol that Leona and I consumed made me forget everything else.

I wasn’t sure what time it was when Nino and Fabiano walked into the room. Leona and I still sat shoulder against shoulder, temple against temple, hardly able to hold our glasses. The Devil Wears Prada was running on the screen but I barely noticed anything, too drunk. Two empty wine bottles littered the table.