Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)

“Why didn’t you tell us that you were coming home? One of us could have picked you up,” Nino said.

Remo and I just stood there. I was pissed, but Remo’s feelings regarding Adamo were an entirely different matter. When he’d allowed our little brother to go to the Famiglia to toughen up, he’d probably expected that he’d be back soon. Yet, after almost one year with the Famiglia, Adamo still seemed content. Few people could see past Remo’s cruel mask, but for me, it was obvious that Adamo’s distance felt like a stab to his heart.

“I took an Uber, don’t worry,” Adamo said with a shrug, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Serafina and Leona came over as well, hugging him.

“Hey stranger,” Serafina said, then her eyes darted to Remo, and something shifted on her face. She, too, could see it.

“An Uber? Why didn’t you steal a car like you used to do?” I asked, softening my words with a teasing grin. I didn’t want this to blow up today, not when the Bazzolis expected a splendid feast. Gemma would be devastated if I had to cancel this last minute because Remo went berserk on Adamo and whoever else looked his way.

“Nah, not my style anymore. Luca broke two of my ribs when I tried it in New York.”

A muscle in Remo’s chin twitched and Serafina casually walked over to him and leaned against him. With her so close, he’d hesitate to lose his shit.

Fabiano sauntered in, finally done beating the shit out of our debtors, and shoved Adamo lightly. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about getting a new tattoo, Adamo.”

We all knew what kind of tattoo he was referring to. His voice had been joking, but his eyes were harsh. He knew Remo as well as I did. If it wasn’t for the twins and Serafina, Adamo’s absence would have hit Remo much harder.

Remo stepped out of Serafina’s grip and clapped Adamo’s chest, right over his heart. “Maybe he already has. Does the Famiglia credo mark your skin yet, little brother?”

I clamped my hand down on Remo’s shoulder without a word. Diego was heading toward the doors where his family had just appeared, everyone except for Gemma, who would enter with me later.

Adamo held his gaze. “I have the markings of the Camorra on my wrist. I can’t be both Camorrista and a soldier of the Famiglia. Our brother Growl had his Camorra tattoo removed before he swore loyalty to Luca.”

What the mighty fuck?

Remo’s face was like the sky before a hurricane. I grabbed Adamo’s arm and dragged him away. From the corner of my eye, I saw Serafina usher Greta toward Remo. She was dressed in her favorite tutu, which she rarely took off, and hurried to her dad. Remo was about to chase after Adamo and me when he noticed his girl and froze. Fabiano still stayed close to him, just in case, while Nino followed us.

Thank fuck for Serafina’s quick thinking. Greta was the valium to Remo’s burning rage.

I shoved Adamo into a restroom. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you come all the way from New York only to twist the knife in Remo’s chest?”

I was so pissed I wanted to smash his stupid face in.

Adamo shook his head with a hint of guilt. “I got mad when Remo suggested I had the Famiglia tattoo.”

“Can you blame him?” Nino said as he entered. “You’ve made yourself scarce these last few months. New York was meant as a temporary thing, a way to give you more stability. It wasn’t meant as more than that.”

Adamo ran a hand through his, as usual, messy hair. “I know. I’ll return in one month.”

He didn’t sound like he wanted to, though.

“You’d better,” I said. I was dead serious. I’d fly over to New York and drag him home personally if I had to. Not because I missed him, but because someone needed to protect Remo.

“Luca allows me to build up their illegal street races. He’s interested in my knowledge. He values my opinion.”

“He’s probably only trying to gain your trust and loyalty, so you betray the Camorra and your family,” I said, pissed once more. “It wouldn’t be the first time that he took in soldiers from other famiglias after all. Growl, Orazio… you’d be the icing on his cake.”

“I’m not going to defect the Camorra!” Adamo hissed. “Maybe I’m not like you, but I’m a Falcone and I’ll die one.”

“Then why did you provoke Remo by mentioning our half-brother? You know very well how Remo reacts to that name,” Nino said, disapproving.

“Ryan, I mean Growl, isn’t as bad as you make him out to be. I eat with him and his wife Cara once a week.”

“How about you keep that tidbit of information to yourself?” I muttered. That would definitely tip Remo over the edge.