Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)

by Cora Reilly

People finally had a reason for the nickname they gave my brothers and me. The monsters of Las Vegas. My monstrous side had come out to play but the revelry had only just begun.

“Give me a sec. He’s in the cage with Nevio.” My nephew was only six, almost seven, but Remo and he often trained in the cage, mainly to control Nevio’s outbursts and his hyperactivity.

My attention drifted over to my left where Adamo parked in his yellow BMW M4. His window was down and his muscled arm rested casually on his door. His eyes met mine and one corner of his mouth tipped up. My heart sped up and I narrowed my eyes at him, not liking my body’s reaction to the overconfident Falcone baby brother. But fuck, he looked all man, trouble and danger, how he lounged in his seat as if that was the place he was meant to be. His kingdom.

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

“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.

“Adamo’s not the hero in this story. Nor are you or my father. I’ll be the hero in my story.”

Adamo cupped my neck, startling me and pressed his lips to mine. My first reaction was to shove him away, even as my body screamed for more. My fingers curled around his strong shoulders for the shove but instead I dug my nails in and leaned even closer.

“Don’t ever try to be good to people who hurt you. They don’t deserve it.”

“A look I usually only see in Remo’s eyes. The hunger for blood and violence. The need for death and destruction. As a baby and younger

child, you looked exactly like Remo. And on occasion a similar temper would shine through.”

No matter how much I wanted to be different from Remo, I sometimes thought I was more like him than any of my brothers. Nino tortured because it was effective deterrence and punishment as well as a scientific challenge to prolong a victim’s death while causing maximum damage. Savio tortured because it was necessary evil in our business. Remo tortured because he enjoyed it, because for him it was linked with pure emotion… and for me it was the same.

didn’t want this to end. Not today, not tomorrow, maybe never. Adamo made me want to lose control to him. He made me feel as if I could lose control to him without fear.

“It’s such a burden to spend the night in a five-star hotel with a gorgeous redhead instead of having my family shove their noses in my business and ask me a million questions about you.” My eyebrows shot up. “What kind of questions?” “My sisters-in-law want to know all about you. A secret girl in my life has them all dying from curiosity.” “Secret girl in Adamo Falcone’s life. I like that title.”

Dinara regarded my face. “Sounds like you gave it plenty of thought.” I smiled twistedly. “I’m a Falcone. Twisted shit is in my blood.”

No street race could ever compete with the thrill, the absolute high of a kill, and even less with the power rush of torture. Denying one’s nature is living a lie. Only drugs in all shapes and forms had made it possible. No more. People finally had a reason for the nickname they gave my brothers and me. The monsters of Las Vegas. My monstrous side had come out to play but the revelry had only just begun.

“She was a monster and never deserved to be your mother. You are lovable and I love you.”

“You love me?” “Yes, even if I’m breaking our keeping it casual pact. I don’t care. I won’t hide my emotions. I fucking love you and you better deal with it.” I let out a strangled laugh. “I love you, too.”

“If Greta fell in love with an enemy, could he stop you from killing him if his love for her was true and if he tried to prove it to you by risking his life?” “No,” Remo said without hesitation. “Even if that meant Greta would never forgive you?”

“Greta can’t be separated from Nevio, nor should she be separated from her family. We are her safe haven. I’d never allow anyone to take that from her, not even for love.”

“I waded through blood for your daughter, and I’ll do it again, even if it’s my own, because Dinara is worth shedding every last drop of my blood for. I won’t give her up, no matter what you do or what you say. And if it takes torture and death to prove my feelings for your daughter, then that’s what I’m willing to do. I love her and no force on this earth can shake that, so if you don’t want me to be with your daughter, if you want me to give her up, then you’ll have to end my life today.”