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Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles 6)

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Adamo tilted his head to catch my gaze. “You want to torture the asshole?”

My lips parted, but a wave of nerves washed through me. “I want him to suffer before he dies.”

“He will if you want it. I can do it.”

“I should at least be part of it. This is my revenge and I don’t want to be a coward.”

“It’s not about being a coward. Torturing someone takes a lot out of you. It’s different than the act of killing. You have to face the victim’s despair, pain and begging, have to relish in it and use it as another tool of suffering for them.”

“How many have you tortured? I know Remo and Nino are famous for their special talent, but I didn’t hear any stories about you.”

“I tried not to get involved in torture except when it was absolutely necessary. Both Nino and Remo wanted me to gain some experience but eventually they stopped forcing me to participate in these sessions.”

If even Adamo, who was a Falcone, couldn’t bear to torture someone, how would I be able to do it? “If it bothers you, if it gives you nightmares, then I don’t want you to do it, not for me. If I want them to suffer, I’ll have to do it myself. I won’t ask you to do something you hate.”

Adamo chuckled darkly, and pressed a fierce kiss to my lips. “It’s not that I hate it or that it haunts me in nightmares, Dinara. I enjoy it too much, that’s the fucking problem. I relish in the act of causing others’ pain, at least when I think they deserve it. I wish it were different, but I’m messed up. And the people on our list, they all deserve it so I’ll have a fucking great time doing it.”

“So you didn’t partake in torture because you liked it too much?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I quickly realized that I had the potential to be as good and creative as Remo, but I never wanted to be like that. I thought I could be better.” His smile became darker. “But I’m not, and the next asshole on the list will learn it the hard way, if you let me.”

I swallowed and gave a jerky nod. Adamo kissed me and wrapped his arms even more tightly around me. I could hardly breathe, but I only hugged him back with the same force. After the events of the day, after everything we’d just discussed, my body rang with the need to be as close to Adamo as possible. I didn’t care if it made me look weak or needy. Adamo made me feel as if it was okay to not be strong once in a while. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I closed my eyes, feeling safe.

The next morning, we headed out for the next stop on our roadtrip: Sacramento, the home of number two on our list. Even though this was my path to vengeance, Adamo and I were in this together. I was glad that I didn’t have to take this difficult journey alone.

The windows of the car were rolled down as we took the Interstate 80 to Sacramento. Warm air tousled my hair and my eyes were closed. The low beat of a rap song blasted from the speakers. Adamo’s fingers around mine kept me rooted as they always did when images from the past replayed in my head. This time they hadn’t overpowered me. I’d summoned my personal demons to find the right mindset for what lay ahead.

Adamo parked in front of the house of number two and killed the engine. The house wasn’t how I’d imagined it. I’d expected a forlorn, unkempt place. Something that reflected my own dark feelings whenever the face of him replayed in my memory. He had been the fear of my past.

Goosebumps rose all over my body. The front yard was immaculately kept, with perfectly trimmed lawn and a beautiful white porch. This looked like a place of happiness.

“Are you sure he lives here alone?”

“Not alone, no. He shares the house with his mother, but he doesn’t have his own family.”

“Does she know?” I asked.

“Yes, she gave him an alibi in a case but he was convicted anyway.”

I nodded, wondering how she could live with what her son had done, but she wasn’t my concern. “But she isn’t home now?”

“No, she works in a gas station. We’re clear to go in.”

Clear to go in. I smiled wryly. “You make it sound as if we’re a SWAT team.”

“We’re going to kidnap him, so we have to be as stealthy.”

“This is a good neighborhood so people will report suspicious behavior.”

Adamo shrugged. “We’ll be fine. Let’s wait here for him to return home from work.”

We sat in silence for almost an hour before a car pulled into the driveway and a short but heavily overweight man got out. His hair had thinned and turned gray, but even from afar his face sent a shudder through my body. My fingers clamped around my knees and my breathing became uneven as my pulse sped up. I was torn between the urge to run and the desire to attack. “Dinara?” Adamo said softly.


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