Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)

The air whooshed out of him and he hit the ground like a brick, chest heaving, face turning red as he was trying to breathe.

I straddled him, gripped his throat and got into his face. “How about you tell the fucking truth now, Mick? Gemma would have never kissed you, unless you forced a kiss on her, so either you molested her, or you’re a liar. What is it?”

I loosened my hold on his throat so he could speak.

“I lied.”

“Fuck you,” I growled. “Now surrender.”

He hit the ground with his flat palm, and I released him then straightened. Standing over him, I shook my head, disgusted. He’d given up too quickly. He’d tried to play dirty, which I could have dealt with if he hadn’t dragged Gemma into it.

Mick stayed flat on his back, his eyes closed.

Applause rose in the Arena and Remo appeared beside me. He grabbed my arm, raising it above my head.

My eyes sought Gemma. She was standing just like the rest of the spectators. Her eyes were huge, her face flushed with excitement. I’d won many fights, but this was definitely the best victory yet. Everyone looking her way could see that this was the outcome she’d wished for. Our eyes met and she controlled her expression—too late.

One corner of my mouth twitched up. My girl.

Remo released my arm, bringing my attention back into the cage. Mick was sitting up slowly, obviously still struggling to breathe from my kick. I held out my hand for him to take so I could pull him up. He pushed my hand away. I took a step back, sneering. Did he really think this behavior was earning him any bonus points in front of fellow Camorrista?

Remo extended his hand and Mick took that one, then he turned back to me. His lower lip was burst. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I thought we were friends. Guess I was wrong.”

“You wanted the wrong girl, Mick. That’s all. Get over it and we can be friends.”

“You didn’t want her for so long that her family arranged a marriage with me. Gemma would be better off with me. You can’t keep it in your pants, Savio.”

“If you want to continue this argument, do it in the changing room,” Remo ordered.

Mick nodded and climbed out of the cage then hurried toward the changing rooms. Remo clapped my shoulder, but his eyes held warning. “You got what you wanted. I hope you’ll still want it in a few years because this is until death do us part.”

I answered his twisted grin with my own. “I’m a grown man, Remo. Gemma is and will be mine till the bitter end.”

“I’m not worried about her being yours. No one with half a brain will touch a Falcone woman. But she might want you to be hers too, remember that.”

My heart pounded in my chest, watching the fight, as if I was the one in the cage. Every muscle in my body taut with anticipation, with breathless expectation and almost delirious hope.

I had to admit seeing Savio fight for me was more thrilling than I’d ever admit aloud. It was primal and brutal, and incredibly sexy. I’d seen Savio fight Diego often enough to tell that he could have sent Mick to the floor within the first ten seconds, but he didn’t want to embarrass him completely.

Until suddenly fury distorted Savio’s expression and he sent Mick to the floor with an amazing kick against the chest. The crowd let out a simultaneous gasp at the sound of the body’s impact. I jerked to my feet like everyone around me, my pulse galloping wildly.

“Ouch,” Toni groaned. “You’re crushing my hand.”

I released her. I hadn’t even realized I was clutching her hand in a death grip. “Sorry,” I whispered, never taking my eyes off the cage where Savio was straddling Mick and holding him by the throat. Come on, surrender, Mick. Do yourself the favor of ending this, and do me the favor.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mick hammered his hand against the floor, signaling surrender. I released a harsh breath.

Toni kissed my cheek. “You get your dream boy.”

Savio was mine. After all the years of fawning over him from afar, he was finally mine.

Noticing Diego’s gaze, I turned to him. He wasn’t smiling.

His negativity would only ruin the moment, so I turned away and was met with Savio’s intense stare.

He stood in the cage, covered in sweat and Mick’s blood, because I hadn’t seen Mick land a single direct hit, staring at me. Without saying a word, without his ring on my finger, without an official engagement that look alone claimed me as his.

My stomach warmed and my core tightened in a way it never had, with a want that stunned and terrified me.