Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles 6)

“Where’s the rest of the circus?” I asked.

Nevio stepped back. “In the garden. Will you fight with me for my birthday?”

I laughed as we headed toward the front door. “I doubt your mom will appreciate it if I kick your scrawny ass on your special day. Let’s do it another day.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Nevio complained. And he was right. I usually didn’t stay long enough to make time for cage fights with my nephews. Camp always called too loudly to me.

Like Nevio had said, the rest of the family was in the garden. Nevio rushed away toward his cousins Alessio and Massimo who were doing some kind of sword fight with sticks. Shaking my head, I joined my family at the big table. Before greeting anyone else, I went over to Greta, Nevio’s twin sister. She perched on Remo’s lap, eating a piece of the spectacular cake throning in the center of the table. “Happy birthday, Greta.”

I kissed her cheek and she beamed up at me. “Thank you.” She was the complete opposite of Nevio: shy, careful and peace-loving.

“Long time no see, little brother,” Remo said, his dark eyes boring into mine as if he wanted to extract answers to unasked questions from me. I had a feeling his curiosity was linked to Dinara. Kiara motioned at the cake that she’d undoubtedly baked. “Chocolate cream. Want a piece?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I said, giving her a warm smile.

Savio got up and hugged me briefly. Our once tense relationship had improved considerably with distance.

“Still in a monogamous relationship with a whore?” Savio asked as his way of greeting, keeping his voice low so Greta, and Aurora who sat on Fabiano’s lap, didn’t hear.

Fabiano narrowed his eyes. Savio obviously hadn’t succeeded.

His wife Gemma punched his belly but he only grinned and shrugged.

“C.J. and I are friends. Whatever happens behind closed doors isn’t your business.” I clapped his outstretched hand.

“That means yes,” he said, rolling his eyes as he sank down beside Gemma once more.

“No, it doesn’t but whatever.”

Nino stepped out on the terrace. “Kiara, I think your lasagna is ready to be taken out.” He gave me a nod in greeting.

Kiara quickly rushed back inside, followed by Gemma, who often helped her with cooking for bigger family gatherings. They were the best cooks in the family. Serafina and Fabiano’s wife Leona were usually responsible for keeping the kids in check.

“Cake before lunch? What kind of anarchy is this?” I asked, sinking down on one of the empty chairs between Fabiano and Savio.

“Nevio’s wish. Anarchy is his middle name,” Fina said, rolling her eyes.

“My wish too,” Greta said softly.

Fina gave her daughter a patient smile. “Yours too, but we both know you always say yes to Nevio’s wishes.”

“Not always,” Greta said even quieter.

“Too often, mia cara,” Remo said, kissing her temple.

Kiara and Gemma came back, both carrying casseroles with steaming lasagna.

“One of them is vegetarian with antipasti and lemon-ricotta, and the other is a more traditional lasagna with pancetta and minced beef,” Kiara explained. She and Greta both didn’t eat meat, but the rest of us did, even if we’d gotten used to more vegetarian meals since Kiara had married Nino.

“The food is ready! Sit down!” Fina screamed to be heard over the boys’ rough swordplay.

Alessio was the first to drop his sword and began trotting over to us. Massimo and Nevio kept clanging swords.

“Nevio!” Remo called.

Nevio’s head swiveled around and he lowered his sword. Massimo had already done so and together they rushed over to us. Alessio gave me a smile but like Greta he wasn’t an overly touchy-feely kid, at least with most people. Nino touched his shoulder and the boy sank down beside him. Nevio and Massimo followed shortly after and plopped down in the two remaining vacant chairs.

Massimo smiled broadly at me, sweat glistening on his face. He looked more and more like Nino every day.

We finally dug in. Of course, dinner wasn’t a quiet affair. Even when it had been only my brothers and me many years ago, that hadn’t been the case, but the topics and entertainment had become less explicit and more PG-13.

After dinner, I stepped away to smoke. Remo hated it but I wasn’t a kid anymore. Kiara came over after a moment. “How are you? You look happy.”

I smiled, lowering my cigarette and blowing the smoke in the other direction. “I am, what about you?”

Kiara’s face glowed with happiness. “How could I not be happy being surrounded by family? We miss you.”

I gave her a one-armed hug. “I miss you too. But I belong with the racers.”

“I know.”

Remo stepped up to us. Kiara being the clever woman that she was realized he wanted to talk to me. She excused herself and went over to the girls.

“So how are things going with our Russian princess?”