Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)

Savio picked up his barbell and did a round of deadlifts, then motioned for me to finish my last round.

Neither Fabiano nor Nino were paying any attention to me, at least not outwardly, focused on their workout, but I still felt under scrutiny. I was an intruder in their tight-knit family. It would take time for me to prove myself, not just to them, but also to Savio.

After our workout, all four of us headed to the kitchen. Savio, Fabiano and Nino talked about a few clubs and their rentability. I was too nervous about my first day in the Falcone mansion to focus on it though. Despite Savio’s reassuring hand on my back when we entered the kitchen, I felt on display. The entire family had already taken their seats around the big kitchen table, except for Adamo.

Savio nudged me toward them. Kiara gave me a bright smile, her eyes kind. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” I admitted.

“Then have a seat.”

Savio sank down and pulled out the chair beside him. The conversation picked up around me, for which I was incredibly grateful. Kiara filled my plate and I ate my scrambled eggs in silence, trying to pretend I didn’t notice the occasional curious glance.

“Why’s she here?” blurted Nevio after a few minutes of staring at me.

Serafina made a shush noise and gave me an apologetic smile. I stifled laughter. “I’m Savio’s wife.”

Nevio gave me an uncomprehending look.

“That’s how we felt when we found out Savio was considering marriage,” Remo said dryly.

I chanced a glance at him, trying to decide if he’d been against the bond, but his expression was the hard mask I knew.

Savio spread his arms. “Hey, I’m a good husband.”

I snorted, couldn’t help myself, then flushed when everyone looked my way.

Serafina laughed, and soon Kiara and Leona fell in.

“Didn’t leave the impression you wanted, hmm?” Serafina asked Savio. Realizing what she was referring to, I cringed. We never talked about sex at home.

“Maybe he’s losing his touch,” Fabiano suggested.

Savio raised his brows. “Don’t worry about my touch. It’s satisfactory.”

“Leave him be. His blue balls make him irritable,” Remo said.

My eyes widened.

Serafina elbowed her husband. “Stop it.”

Savio leaned in, squeezing my thigh. “Don’t let my brothers rile you up, Gem. You have to get used to their inappropriate humor.”

I could see that. It would definitely take some getting used to.

Adamo stumbled into the kitchen, looking sleepy and completely disheveled. The attention focused on him and I relaxed. Savio squeezed my leg again. “I’ll give you a tour of the house after breakfast so you get to know your home.”

I could have kissed him right then. Sometimes he annoyed me, and it was easy to cling to my anger for what he’d done in the past, but then he did something like this and I wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to forgive and forget.

After breakfast, we made our way back to the bedroom where we showered, separately to Savio’s disappointment. “Ready for the tour?” Savio asked when I stepped out of the bathroom.

He took my hand. I loved how he always did it without hesitation as if I’d always been at his side. For me, physical closeness with him was something I had to get used to, but he didn’t give me time to feel anxious. He motioned down the corridor of the second floor. “My brothers don’t usually enter my wing, with the exemption of the gym below. But if you feel uncomfortable with their presence there, they can turn a room in another wing into a gym.”

I quickly shook my head. “I don’t mind. I was only startled this morning.”

“And embarrassed,” Savio added, brushing his fingertips over the hickey on my throat.

“That too.”

He chuckled. “We’ll see how long you’ll blush so easily.”

Living with him and his shameless brothers, probably not very long. “What’s in the rooms?” I motioned at the four doors branching off.

Savio shrugged. “One of them is for my sneaker collection—”

I interrupted him. “You have an entire room for your sneakers?”

He opened the door to our left. Rows over rows of shelves filled with sneakers lined the walls. I gave him an incredulous look. “You can’t be serious! That’s bigger than the room I had at home.”

“I like sneakers.”

“Do I even want to know what’s in the other rooms?” I said with a huff.

He grinned. “Probably not. So sue me, I like to dress nicely.”

I shook my head again. “So vain.”

He kissed my throat, squeezing my waist. Then he grabbed my hand again and led me downstairs. It was a living room with a white sofa, a huge black TV hanging on the opposite walls and modern dark wooden furniture. Everything was neat and matched. “I didn’t think your place would be this clean. Diego’s room is a hazard zone.”

“Adamo’s too,” Savio said with a grimace. “I prefer it clean.”