Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles, #3)

by Cora Reilly

All my life I had been taught to be honorable, to do what was expected of me. Today I went against it all.

He was cruel and twisted. Beyond redemption. Brutal attractiveness, forbidden pleasure, promised pain. I should have been disgusted by him, but I wasn’t. Not by his body and not always by his nature.

This was his game of chess; he was the king and I was the trapped queen that the Outfit needed to protect. He moved me into position for his last move: the kill. Check.

“You always watch me like something you want to touch but aren’t allowed to. Who’s holding you back, Angel?”

“Are you ready? We’ve got a wedding to crash,” I said, grinning. Excitement sizzled under my skin, a low fire that burned brighter with every second I got closer to my goal. Fabiano sighed, checking his gun and shoving it back into his holster. “As ready I as I’ll ever be for this insanity.” “Genius and insanity are often interchangeable. Both have fueled the greatest events in human history.” “I think you annoy me the most when you sound like Nino with your own brand of crazy,” Fabiano said.

Yep toujours aussi taré le Remo

“I don’t think even you know exactly why you want her. But I do know the girl will pay for something she wasn’t responsible for.” “She’s part of our world. Born and bred to be a mother to more Outfit bastards. Born and bred to obey like a mindless sheep. She was brought up to follow her shepherd without hesitation. He led her toward a pack of wolves. It’s his mistake, but she will be torn apart.”

“My, what a beautiful bride you are,” Remo said. I raised my eyes and met his, wishing I hadn’t because the twisted smile on his face burned through me like a thunderstorm of terror.

“She is a nice piece of ass,” Simeone commented from behind the steering wheel. I leaned forward. “And you will never look at her again unless you want me to rip your eyeballs out and shove them up your ass. One more fucking disrespectful word from you and your tongue will keep your eyeballs company, understood?” Simeone gave a jerky nod. Fabiano caught my gaze with a curious expression. I leaned back and returned my gaze to the woman curled up beside me on the seat. Her hair was pinned tightly to her head as if even that part of her needed to be tamed and under control, but one wayward strand had freed itself and curled wildly over her temple. I wrapped it around my finger. I couldn’t wait to find out how tame Serafina really was.

The name of their Capo was spoken in hushed, terrified whispers even among women in the Outfit.

Pride was the only weapon I had, and I would hold on to it until the very end.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “I decide what to hope for. You might rule over Las Vegas and over these men, but you don’t rule over me, Remo Falcone.”

“Remo hates weakness. And in his eyes women are weak.” “So I’m at the mercy of a man who hates women.” “He hates weakness. But you are strong, Serafina.”

Thank you mama falcone, that one is on you I guess...

All my life I had been raised to be proud and noble, honorable and well-behaved, and it didn’t protect me.

He brought his mouth down until his lips touched mine lightly, just barely, and yet a current shot through me. “I haven’t started playing, and you aren’t a mere chess piece. You are the queen.” He took the knife and straightened, releasing me in the process. He stood slowly, drawing up to his full height and staring down at me. “And what are you in this game of chess?” I whispered harshly, still lying on the mattress. “I’m the king.”

“White and golden like an angel,” Remo mused darkly as he took in every inch of me.

Serafina was everything I’d hoped for and so much more. A queen in my game of chess, indeed. Noble and proud like a queen and arrogant and spoiled like one too. She made me want to break her. Break those white wings. An angel in appearance but one with clipped wings, happy to be grounded, happy to never roam the sky. Content to become the beautiful tamed bird in Danilo’s gilded cage.

“I believe you,” I said mildly. “But you will remember.”

Remo shifted with me in his arms, leaning forward, his forehead pressed against the tiles as he looked down at me. His body shielded me from the cold water raining down on us, and his dark eyes held mine. “It takes a while before the water gets warm down here,” he said calmly. So calm. My eyes searched his face. Eerily calm. No sign that he had just killed a man in a barbaric way.

“We all have to let part of ourselves die to rise up stronger.

My brothers regarded me as if I was a bomb about to detonate. I flashed them a smile.

My brother stopped in front of me, a deep frown pulling his brows together. That was the equivalent of an angry outburst from him.

My mouth pulled wide. “It will crush them. They will bleed out slowly, painfully, without ever feeling my blade. This will destroy them.”

“Tomorrow we will start playing, Angel.”

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Remo said in a British accent, all posh and sophisticated. Wrong. A man like him shrouded in an air of violence and cruelty was anything but an English gentleman.

Il aime vraiment trop faire ça 😂

I’d take my pride to the grave with me. Women were built to give birth. These men could brave pain and so could I.

And I swore to myself that no matter the price, no matter what it would cost me, one day I would be the one to bring Remo Falcone to his knees, the one to break the cruelest man I knew.

QUEEN

“You will have to stitch her up yourself. You played this game and lost. You underestimated your opponent,” he drawled then left, leaving me standing there fucking furious and ecstatic at the same time.

Fina 1- Remo 0

“No! Nobody protected me. I won’t stand by when the same happens to someone else.”

Je l'adore ❤

She returned her gaze to mine. “Let me talk to her,” she said, not asking but demanding. “Is that a fucking order, Kiara?” I asked in a threatening voice. Maybe she needed reminding that I was her Capo. Nino squeezed her shoulder, but she held my gaze then stepped forward out of his grip and closer to me. “No,” she said softly, looking at me with those big, brown eyes as if that would warm my heart. “I am asking you for permission as your sister-in-law and as a Falcone.” “Fuck,” I snarled and glared at Nino. “Couldn’t you have chosen an airheaded wife? She’s as good at manipulation as you are.” Nino’s mouth twitched and he looked proud. Fucking proud. “I’m not sure why I put up with all of you,” I muttered. “Does that mean I’m allowed to talk to her?” Kiara asked hopefully.

😆

“I doubt you’ve come to offer your help. You are loyal to the Falcones.” Again, her eyes moved to Nino. “I am. They are my family.”

❤

A punching bag lay amidst rubble, and Remo glared down at it as if it had personally insulted him.

Il me tue 😂

My mouth curled. “I’m not your guest. I’m a captive.” “Semantics,” Remo said. Maybe in his twisted mind.

“As long as you like it from a distance,” Remo warned. I whirled around. Standing in the open door, Remo took in the mess on the floor and on his brother. “What the fuck happened here?” Savio grimaced at his shirt then scowled at me. “That bitch tried to boil me alive.” I straightened, trying to hide my fear of what my punishment would be for the attack, but then Remo laughed, a low rumble that raised goose bumps on my skin. “I’m glad you find it funny,” Savio muttered.

The floor was still smeared with soup when she finally gave up. “The mop’s not working properly.” “It’s not the mop’s fault. Trust me.” “I wasn’t raised to clean floors,” she snapped, wayward strands of hair clinging to her cheeks and forehead. “No, you were raised to warm a man’s bed and spread your legs for him.” Her eyes widened, anger twisting her perfect features. “I was raised to take care of a family, to be a good mother and wife.” “You can’t cook, can’t clean, and probably have never changed a diaper in your life. Being a good mother doesn’t seem to be in your future.”

“Your pride will be your downfall,” I said. “And your fury will be yours.” “Then we’ll fall together. Isn’t that the beginning of every tragic love story?”

Maybe he’d underestimated me, but I—and I feared even the Outfit—had underestimated Remo Falcone as well. His actions spoke of barely restrained violence and led you to believe that he lacked any sliver of control, that he could be driven into rash acts. But Remo was dangerously intelligent. A ruthless man with the power and wit to get his revenge.

They think your innocence could wash away their sins, but they breathe sin. We all do. One hundred virgins can’t wash the sin from our veins. Definitely not from mine.” ”Not even an angel?” I murmured, tilting my head up, peering at him through my lashes. My pulse throbbed in my veins, aware of the risk I was taking. But I was forced into Remo’s game, willing or not, and I could either be a pawn or a player. Something in Remo’s dark eyes shifted, something hungry and lethal unfurling. He leaned closer, his breath hot against my lips. “You are playing a dangerous game, Angel.” I smiled. “So are you.” His lips pressed against mine. I hadn’t expected it. Almost kisses, like threats ghosting over my skin, had been his tactic … until now. This wasn’t a ghost touch. It was substantial, and yet it felt like the promise of a kiss, a threat of what lay ahead. Stunned by Remo’s action, I held his gaze. Finally, I ripped away and raised my palm to slap him, but he caught my wrist. He jerked me closer once more. “That’s the kiss Danilo would have given you in church, and maybe even later on your wedding night. Polite. Controlled. Reverent.” His voice dipped low. “That’s not a kiss.” Anger surged through me. “You—” Remo’s mouth crashed down on mine, fingers bruising my hip as his other hand cradled my wrist between our bodies. His lips conquered mine, his tongue tasting the seam of my mouth, sucking at my tender lower lip, demanding entrance. Heat flushed through me, and my lips parte...

J'en ai des frissons 😍 The chemistry is there !

“Are you scared of Danilo’s wrath if he finds out his angel hides a few black feathers beneath the glowing white of her plumage?”

Brick after brick, I was tearing down a wall Remo had no intention of lowering. Remo grabbed my arm and led me back toward the mansion. I didn’t say anything, didn’t even look his way. I knew when to retreat, knew when to give in, because this battle had only just begun.

“The legal driving age is fifteen in Nevada.” “And drugs and homicides are against the law. What’s your point?”

I’m alive because of my Capo, because of those four Falcone brothers who stood together when the world was against them and against me.”

This game was getting dangerous in more than one sense. The only question was who would lose control of it first?

“I’m fairly sure God designed your body to drive men into insanity,” Remo said darkly. Stifling the excited thrill Remo’s words sent through me, I retorted, “You believe in God?” “No. I don’t. But looking at you, I could turn into a believer.” I huffed. “There’s a cozy warm place in Hell reserved just for you.”

“He’s my twin. I’ve never been without him. I would walk through fire for him.” Remo nodded slowly. “I believe you.”

Adamo stared down at his inked arm. I held out the arm with my tattoo. Adamo closed his fingers over it, and I closed mine over his, causing him to hiss with pain. “Will you be my eye?” “I will.” “Will you be my knife?” “I will.” “Will you bleed and die for our cause?” “I will,” Adamo said firmly. “Today you give me your life. It’s mine to decide over till death sets you free. Welcome to the Camorra, Adamo.” I released him and stepped back. Nino clapped his shoulder, and Savio did the same.

“You enjoy pissing me off with your logic.” “It’s quite satisfying, yes.”

“It’s my game, Nino. I’m the best player on the field. I will win.” “There won’t be any winners, Remo.”

Before he locked me in, I asked, “What do you really want, Remo?” He regarded me with unsettling intensity. “You know what I want.” “Body and soul,” I muttered. One corner of his mouth lifted. “Body and soul.”

“Gotcha,” I murmured, panting, dripping sweat. Serafina’s chest heaved, her eyes indignant and furious. “You enjoy the chase.” “Actually, I don’t,” I said in a low voice, bringing our lips closer. “But with you I do.” “You knew I’d run,” she muttered. “Of course. You are meant to be free.

Remo leaned even closer, radiating heat and power, the scent of fresh sweat and his own forbidden aroma wrapping around me. I returned his gaze. Dark eyes. Monster eyes, but God help me, they always kept me frozen with their intensity. “You know, Angel, I think you enjoy my monstrosity more than you want to admit.” I didn’t have a chance for a comeback. Remo’s lips crushed mine, his tongue sliding in, and my body reacted with a wave of heat. I clutched his shoulders, meeting his tongue with the same fervor. Then realization struck me. I tried to shove him away, but Remo didn’t budge. He wrapped his arms around me, molding our bodies together. Breathtaking, terrifying, intoxicating. I bit down on his lower lip, but Remo didn’t pull back. He growled into my mouth and tightened his hold, his kiss turning even harder. The taste of his blood swirled in my mouth, and I pulled away in equal disgust and sick fascination. Remo’s mouth was covered with blood. He truly looked the monster then. A dark smile curled his lips, and I opened the door and got into the car, trying to catch my breath, trying to escape his overwhelming presence. I caught sight of my reflection in the rearview mirror and cringed. My lips, too, were red with Remo’s blood. In that moment, I didn’t look any less a monster than he did.