Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)

I stalked closer to him. “What are you doing home?”

Diego frowned. “Dad asked me to stay with you. Why are your arms wrapped around your chest as if you’re cold? You can drop the act. I know you’re not sick.”

I glowered and dropped my arms. “Sorry if it bothers you.” Despite my embarrassment, I allowed Diego to come to his own conclusion.

His eyes filled with realization and he quickly stepped in front of me, trying to cover me from Savio’s view. Savio rolled his eyes, turned and headed for the door. “I’ll be waiting in the living room until you figure out your shit.”

The moment he was gone, Diego glared down at me. “Why are you running around half naked in front of Savio?”

I cuffed him. “Because this is my home, and I didn’t know I wasn’t alone.” I pinched him, but he wasn’t as sensitive to pain as he used to be before he started training with Savio. “Because of you, I made a fool out of myself. What will Savio think of me now?”

Diego’s mouth tightened. “He doesn’t think of you, Gemma. You are an annoying little brat. He couldn’t care less if you run around in your PJs around him.” He stalked toward the door, then before he left, he pointed at the mess on the floor. “Clean that up.”

Rage boiled up in me and I aimed a kick at his butt, but he quickly grabbed my heel and shoved me back. I landed on my tailbone, letting out a pained gasp as tears shot into my eyes. Concern flickered across Diego’s face. To pay him back, I covered my face with my palms and started sniffling.

He knelt beside me and touched my shoulder. “Gemma, are you hurt?”

I quickly dropped my hands and punched his stomach.

“Fuck, you little brat.”

I grinned. “See, this is why I need to start training with Savio. You always hold back because you don’t want to hurt me. How am I supposed to improve like that?”

Diego glowered.

“And you’re not supposed to say the F-word around me. If Nonna or Mom were home, you’d be in trouble.”

He got to his feet and shook his head. “You’re lucky you’re allowed to fight at all, stop bothering Savio. He won’t fight with you. It’s a waste of his time. Why would he want to hang out with a little girl?”

“He hangs out with girls all the time.”

Diego chuckled darkly. “Yeah, he does. You are a kid, Gemma. Just drop it.”

He disappeared through the door. I pushed to my feet and rubbed my tailbone. I’d have a bruise tomorrow, but I’ve had bruises before.

I rushed up to my room and changed into jeans and a cute T-shirt that Toni had given me. I usually changed into those clothes at school because Nonna didn’t approve of jeans. Modest dresses were the only clothes Nonna and Mom allowed me to wear. After I’d brushed my hair and put on my secret stash of makeup, I hurried back downstairs.

The sound of cheering and yowling rang from the speakers of the TV when I stepped into the living room. Diego and Savio lounged on the sofa, their feet propped up on the coffee table. I walked into their line of vision. It was the first time I wore normal clothes and makeup around Savio so I was nervous about his reaction. Neither Savio nor Diego gave me a fleeting glance though.

“Get us something to drink, Gemma. A Coke for me.”

“And one for me,” Savio said, not even looking away from the TV.

Flushing, I turned around and headed for the kitchen.

I was invisible to Savio.

The door to the gym opened as I finished another round of double-unders before I dropped the skipping rope on the ground. “It’s okay,” I called to my older brothers who were sparring in the cage. Neither Nino nor Remo looked my way, too busy fighting.

Diego turned the corner with Gemma hot on his heels. Her eyes became huge as she took in the old casino that we’d turned into our gym. Especially the chandeliers that always got looks from visitors.

I raised my eyebrows at Diego. Hadn’t he told me only recently that he wouldn’t give in to Gemma’s begging? He rolled his eyes in response before he gave me an apologetic look. Diego motioned for his sister to stop and she did, but not without pulling a face. She quickly smiled when she noticed my attention. She was in gym clothes, which looked like they might have been Diego’s a long time ago: too big sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt.

Diego strode toward me. We clapped hands. “Babysitting duties?”

He groaned. “Worse. Gemma has been whining to Dad for weeks now how much she wants to fight with you that he asked me to take her with me.”

Gemma had been begging me to fight with her for months. “Your dad’s okay with me fighting your sister?”