Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5) - Page 14

Mother’s answering laugh raised goosebumps on my skin. I didn’t even remember the last time that had happened. “Oh no, no. I won’t let the past repeat itself. She stays. You’ll behave as long as she does. You don’t want her to get hurt, do you?”

“We need to hurry up here,” Carmine said, looking at Remo. “We don’t know if they didn’t alert their soldiers. As long as they still live, every fucking Made Man in the city will follow their command.”

“Okay, this is how it goes, boys. I want you to cut your wrists, all right?” Mother said, sounding as if she was talking about our plans for the fucking Christmas holidays.

I scoffed. Did she really think we’d go down without a fucking fight?

“I should have killed you right after they cut Adamo out of you. Father wouldn’t have stopped me. He would have found a new woman to terrorize,” Remo snarled.

Mother looked at Remo with a sorrowful smile. “And I should have killed you first, in your sleep, but I didn’t know how strong you were. I do now, my son.”

“Don’t call me that!” he roared, causing her to flinch.

“This could have been over many years ago. It must end this way, don’t you see?” Mother whispered. She opened the flap of the lighter. “All three of you will cut your wrists now. I’ll wait until you’ve passed out before I burn down the mansion and your bodies in it. If you don’t, I’ll burn her and the baby right in front of you and have my men shoot you anyway.”

“You’ll burn them anyway. The moment we’ve passed out, you’ll kill them,” Nino said, and for once, his emotionless mask was gone. It was still strange to see fear on my brother’s face when he hadn’t been capable of any emotions for as long as I could remember—until his wife, Kiara.

Our mother shook her head with a soft smile. “No, no, she’s a victim like I was, and the boy isn’t yours, so he can live as well. We have to go but not them, boys, don’t you see?”

She really thought she was doing the world a favor. She thought this was her task in life, when it was only her sick version of revenge on our father. “Fuck, if I’d known how batshit crazy you are, I would have killed you myself,” I said. I could have visited her in the mental institution Remo had kept her in these last few years and put a bullet in her head. For some reason, I’d preferred pretending she didn’t exist.

“See?” she said. “It’s in you like it is in them, like it was in your father.” She regarded us. She motioned at Carmine, who handed Nino a knife. “Either you’ll cut your wrists now, or I’ll burn them. I’ll count to three.”

Kiara began crying softly, rocking Alessio. She didn’t deserve any of this, nor did the kid. They both had gone through hell in their past, had been brutalized by the people meant to protect them.

Nino cut his wrists, not taking his eyes off his wife and son.

“No!” Kiara cried out, looking as if the knife had cut her flesh, not his.

“Two,” Mother counted. “Savio, Remo.”

Remo grasped the knife with a growl and cut his wrists. Of course, he did. Remo had burnt for us before. He’d die a thousand deaths if it meant protecting his family. Nino’s gaze met mine and I knew what was coming. Now it was my turn. Diego and I had planned to visit a house party this weekend. I’d looked at new cars. Nothing of that mattered today.

“Fuck.” I closed my eyes briefly. Remo and Nino didn’t fear death. It was their fucking disposition to have made peace with the inevitable end a long time ago. I’d preferred to ignore the possibility of dying. It had been a distant concept that didn’t concern me, even if I’d killed many men myself.

“One,” Mother warned. For some reason, Kitty’s laughter the last time we’d fought in the cage flitted through my mind.

I opened my eyes, tore the knife from Remo’s grip and slashed my wrists before I could lose my nerve and hate myself forever. Nino’s expression filled with relief.

I looked down at my wrists, at the red rivulets dripping down my palms and fingers. The sight of blood had never bothered me, not its smell or sticky feel either, and it didn’t today. Maybe I should have been scared of the unknown darkness ahead, but I felt a strange sense of calm. It could have been my head wound and the resulting dizziness, whatever it was: death didn’t bother me as much as I’d thought it would. And then everything went very fast. Suddenly Adamo barreled in, jabbing a knife into our mother’s back. We all sprang into action, overpowering the traitors.

Tags: Cora Reilly The Camorra Chronicles Romance
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