Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles, #5)

by Cora Reilly

I’d never kissed a boy and I wouldn’t. Not until my wedding day and no one but my husband. Right then, I promised myself that Savio Falcone would be the one.

That Gemma had even dared to enter a cage with him came unexpected. Maybe Kitty would surprise me.

“One,” Mother warned. For some reason, Kitty’s laughter the last time we’d fought in the cage flitted through my mind.

From the corner of my eyes, I could see him coming around the bar. “Just thinking of all the dirty things I could do with that ass makes my—” I straightened and whirled on him. “Don’t finish that sentence!” Savio’s expression flashed with shock. Slowly his eyes dragged down my body, lingering on my hips, my stomach, my breasts until he finally looked at my face again—my undoubtedly bright red face. It felt impossibly hot and that wasn’t because of the sticky warm air in the bar. His expression transformed into anger, which stunned me. I’d expected a joke and teasing like so often in the past. “What the hell are you doing here? Dressed like that?”

I pulled her arm away from her stomach, revealing those curves again. “Looking like this,” I growled, motioning at her body. “You have no business being so goddamn naïve, Kitty. Some men might use that to their advantage.” Her eyes held mine and I knew I was screwed because I wanted my best friend’s little sister. I wanted to do very naughty, very grown-up things to her. Things she had no clue about judging from her puzzled expression. I stared at the ceiling. Maybe there was a God after all, and this was his way to test me. It was a given that I would fail his test, the question was only when.

Now I got why it was called sweet sixteen. Fuck me. I wished I wasn’t so fucking addicted to sweets, because Gemma, without a doubt, would be the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted. And I wanted that taste.

“I only brought Gemma home. I thought you’d appreciate her not hanging out with Toni in Roger’s Arena. Maybe you should keep a closer eye on her.” His gaze zeroed in on Gemma in her sexy clothes and he stalked after her. It wasn’t even that I was trying to keep Gemma away from other guys. Not only that. Mostly I needed to make sure Daniele kept her away from me because otherwise my friendship to Diego was a thing of the past.

“If you don’t go, then you’ll have to live with my presence,” I said. Before I had time to think about it, I sank down on Savio’s lap. Diego’s sharp intake of breath made me smile, but it died when Savio’s arm came around my waist. Shock shot through me. I hadn’t expected him to react that way. Shove me away? Yes. Shock? Yes. Pulling me closer as if I belonged on top of him? No. My gaze darted over to him and he leaned back against the headrest, pulling me with him. His eyes met mine and there was something in them that had me swallow thickly.

“You want Savio Falcone, we all know it,” Diego muttered. “As if he was the second coming of Christ.”

Nevio definitely had a talent to drive me up the wall, but fuck, they’d somehow weaseled their way into my fucking heart. And Greta, I doubted anyone who met her didn’t like her. Sometimes when I looked at her cute face, I considered having kids myself in the distant future, then Nevio usually did something that made me want to get a vasectomy.

“I’ll get Gemma!” I stiffened. “What do you mean?” My voice was low and threatening, which surprised me. Not as much as the burning ball of jealous rage that singed my insides. I didn’t do jealous. I didn’t care enough about any girl to give a fuck if she went off into the sunset with another guy.

Diego sneered. “It means my family and Mick’s family agreed that my sister will marry Mick once she turns eighteen. Remember how I told you that we were looking to arrange a marriage for Gemma? How she told you? How Dad told you?”

“The hottest girl in Vegas is going to be my wife, can you believe it?” Over my dead body, Michelangelo. I looked him up and down. He didn’t deserve Gemma, and he sure as fuck wouldn’t get her.

“He was the best option. She needs to be promised at her age. Why do you even care, Savio? It’s not like you seemed to give a fuck when I told you we were looking for someone.” “I do care now, and I tell you that Gemma won’t marry Mick, got it?” Diego shook his head. “It’s too late. She needs to be promised, that’s just how it is. Unless you decide to marry after all?” I scoffed and Diego’s expression darkened. “Then there’s nothing you can do, Savio. Whatever you want from Gemma, you can’t have it. Not unless there’s a ring with your name on her finger.” I glared. A ring with my name. Marriage. Did I really want that? He shrugged and turned to head toward his car. “I hope you’ll enjoy seeing the bloody sheets after Mick and Gemma’s wedding night.” What the fuck? I advanced on him, grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the car. He didn’t even bother fighting me off, only grinned mirthlessly. “I’m going to kill him before I’ll allow that to happen, Diego. If I have to, I’ll kill you, too.” “Fuck you, Savio. You have to make a decision, and you better make it quick. Because once we’ve officially celebrated the engagement, there’s no going back. How much are you willing to do to get my sister?”

“It’s your concern because I want Gemma, and I don’t give a fuck what I’ll have to do to get her.”

“I need to have her.” “You need to have her so you can fuck her, boost your ego and then discard her. Or you need to have her—” I interrupted him. “I want her as my wife. It’s the only way I can have her at all.”

“I don’t want to marry Mick, and you know that very well!” I pressed out and ripped away from his hold. “Now leave.” Savio’s expression almost brought me to my knees. “You won’t marry Mick then. We both know who it is you really want to wed.” I couldn’t believe him. “The guy I might have wanted didn’t care enough to ask for my hand, so now I’ll marry the guy who had the guts to marry me.” “You won’t marry Mick. You will be mine.” I blinked, stunned by the possessiveness in his voice, and momentarily worried that my mind was making this up. He’d never as much as hinted to being interested in me—at least not more than his usual interest in anything with breasts. “It’s too late,” I said, sounding strong even as my heart broke. Why couldn’t he have shown this kind of desire for me before, when my father was looking for a husband? Now I was stuck with Mick. He smirked. The smirk that made me want to hit him—and worse: kiss him. He leaned down. “Oh Kitty, I will own you, even if I have to shove my knife into his fucking heart.”

Gemma was too in love with me to control my life like Serafina and Kiara did with my brothers.

“I’m a grown man, Remo. Gemma is and will be mine till the bitter end.” “I’m not worried about her being yours. No one with half a brain will touch a Falcone woman. But she might want you to be hers too, remember that.”

“How dare you? You can’t just reserve me like a table in a restaurant and go on living your man-whore life while I sit back and wait for you to make up your mind about our wedding.” “I’m a Falcone. I can do whatever the fuck I want, Gemma. And I want you, so no one else is going to get you.” He leaned closer. “Nobody will as much as look at you, or I’m going to rip the fucker to shreds, got it?”

“I thought giving up wasn’t your style.” I shrugged. “I’m done. I’ve tried for too long.” We parked in front of my house. I faced Remo fully. “Can you please cancel my engagement to Savio? I don’t want to marry him anymore, and I don’t think he really wants to marry me either.” He became still. “You’re asking me to cancel your promise to my brother?” I merely nodded. “Then he’ll be free to do as he pleases, and I can find someone who really wants to marry me.”

My eyes prickled and I swallowed. The sensation was foreign, one I hadn’t felt since I was a little boy—a heavy pressure in the back of my throat and in my chest.

Fuck. The last words I’d said to her flitted through my head, the horrible things I’d told her, how badly I’d treated her. As if she was nothing but a sex toy for me, nothing important when she was the only girl who’d ever been a friend, the only girl I’d ever wanted for more than sex. Yet, I hadn’t shown her.

Stroking her blood-covered face, I leaned down to her ear. “I was an asshole. I’m so fucking sorry, Gem, so fucking sorry. I’ll miss you so fucking much, every annoying little thing. You are the only girl I ever truly wanted, and I fucked it up.”

“Any tips?” I said. “Whiskey goes well with the taste of blood.”

Nino gave me a nod and clapped my arm. “Congrats.” I raised an eyebrow, remembering his words about marriage. “I thought marrying wasn’t an accomplishment that warranted congratulating.” “That’s true under normal circumstances, but given your promiscuity, attempting such a bond is a daring endeavor worthy of congrats.”