Twisted Loyalties (The Camorra Chronicles, #1)

by Cora Reilly

I hadn’t exactly missed him. I’d missed the idea of having a father—one he could never be. Still, it was nice to see him again. Maybe we could start anew.

“I was surprised when you called.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, uncertain where he was going with this. “You never did,” I said, regretting the words as soon as I spoke. I hadn’t come to Vegas to dish out guilt. Dad had never been a good father, but he’d tried occasionally … even if he’d always failed.

“Don’t waste your time. She’s already taken.” “By whom?” “Me,” I growled.

My mother had always said I was a fixer, that I needed something broken so I could see if I was capable of mending it—injured animals, sick people, broken-down cars. Her. She’d said it would get me in trouble one day. Because people couldn’t be fixed, and one day I’d find someone so broken, he’d break me before I could mend him. Was that what had drawn me to Fabiano from that very first second? Had I sensed that something about him was broken and I needed to fix it?

And a good father wouldn’t steal from his daughter. I picked my backpack up off the ground. One of the straps was ripped. Fighting tears, I rushed into the bedroom and closed the door.

Why did people in my life always break their promises?

Perhaps I was silly for dreaming about it, but my dreams were the only thing that kept me going. I wanted to get a law degree. Help people who couldn’t afford a good lawyer. I closed my eyes. An image of Fabiano popped into my head. Nobody would ever take money from him. He was strong. He knew how to get what he wanted. I wished I were like that. Strong. Respected.

“Sometimes we have to let go of our family if we want to amount to anything in life.”

“Temere me, perché sono l’occhio e la spada,” Fabiano said in what sounded to me like flawless Italian. He caressed the words with his tongue, almost as if he was their lover. A shiver raced down my back. How would it feel if he whispered words of passion into my ear in that same voice? “What…” I cleared my throat, hoping he couldn’t tell how his closeness and voice affected me. “What does it mean?” “Fear me because I’m the eye and the blade.”

I could tell she didn’t have much experience kissing. Fuck. That knowledge was the last straw. I had to have her. Every little inch of her. Every goosebump. Every freckle. Every fucking shy smile. All for myself.

“And I wanted you for myself.” Was he embarrassed of being seen with me? The poor little waitress and the big deal mobster. I rubbed my arms, the cold night air catching up with me. Fabiano pressed up behind me and stroked my arms through the thin fabric of my dress. Always close, always touching. His spicy aftershave engulfed me like his arms did. “What do you want from me?” I whispered. “Everything.”

“You can’t mean that. Love is what makes us human, what makes life worth living. Love is unconditional.”

“If you don’t fight for what you want, you won’t get it. People like us don’t get their wishes handed to them on a platter.”

“I will fight your battles for you now, Leona. I told you I’d protect you.”

“I’m not used to waiting. For anything.” She didn’t move away from me, her back still pressed against my chest, my fingers still on her ribcage. It heaved under my touch. One deep breath and her spine straightened. “Some things are worth waiting for.”

I’m sorry. The idea of you leaving me is the worst torture I can imagine. Be the woman Aria gave me that bracelet for. Stay, even if I’m not worth it.

“You aren’t nothing.” If she were, Remo wouldn’t be breathing down my neck. “What am I then, Fabiano?” I leaned down and kissed her slowly, letting her scent and taste engulf my senses before I drew back. Her cheeks were flushed. “You are mine.”

“I betrayed for you, I killed for you,” I said roughly, pulling out of her slowly until only my tip remained inside her. “I’ll bleed and I’ll die for you.”

Last night, Fabiano, above me, in me, I’d felt like things had finally fallen into place. I’d never had a place to call home, but with him I felt anchored.

Things were complicated between us. They couldn’t be anything else, given our pasts and lives, but I knew no matter what he was, nobody would ever make me feel more cared for than he did. We were twisted and broken and fucked up. Both of us.

“As you should,” I told him then pressed my palm again my side again. “Leona must be safe. She must be mine. I want her at my side. I want to spend my life with her.”

“I don’t want to leave Las Vegas. Because Las Vegas is your home, and you are mine.” He pulled me into a painful embrace and I sank into him. My protector.