Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2) - Page 53

She pursed her lips. “Isn’t it tiring to fight all the time? You fought for years to win your territory back, right?”

“We did. After our half-brother killed our father, Las Vegas was in shambles. Without a strong Capo, every Underboss in the West decided to do as he pleased. They didn’t follow Vegas’ lead because there was a new Capo in the city every few months.”

“How long have you been in power?”

“Almost five years, but Remo is in power. I’m his Consigliere.”

Kiara shook her head, playing with the thin fabric of her dress absentmindedly. “You rule together. You do everything together.”

“Remo is still Capo, and that’s good. He’s meant to rule.”

She worried her bottom lip again. I reached for the hand resting on her thigh and pressed my thumb against her wrist. Her pulse wasn’t fast enough for fear.

Her brows formed a V as she peered at my finger against her wrist then up at my face. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to have someone run the Camorra who doesn’t let emotions overrule logic?”

“No. Our soldiers look up to Remo. His fierce brutality, his uncontrolled anger and passionate loyalty … that’s something they seek in a leader. Not logic. Humans don’t want logic. They want feelings.”

“I suppose.”

KIARA

I jerked awake from a nightmare and realized I was alone in bed. My fingers searched my nightstand for my phone until finally the screen lit up under my touch. It was two in the morning. Confused, I sat up. Nino always went to bed with me so where was he? Since our tour through the Red Rock Canyon two days ago, I had only seen him at dinner every evening, where we ordered either pizza or pasta. Aside from eating together, I spent my days alone in the library while my babysitters, Savio or Adamo, stayed somewhere in the house.

Now wide awake, I decided to go into the kitchen to grab something to drink and perhaps an apple. I doubted the kitchen had ever been used before. All these evenings ordering takeout had seriously reduced my fruit and vegetable intake, and I was hungry despite the late hour. I put on a bathrobe and slipped out of our bedroom then continued downstairs. The door to the connecting corridor was closed, which was strange, but I opened it quietly, careful not to wake anyone. I headed through the connecting corridor and into the kitchen, where I grabbed a glass of water and an apple. Then I started to make my way back to our bedroom.

A strange noise made me pause briefly. I couldn’t place it. Through the dark, I slowly crept in the direction of the sound. A dim light from the gaming room filtered into the hallway. Maybe Adamo was playing a game. He seemed to be doing nothing else when he was home.

I stepped out of the dark corridor and froze, my body seizing up with shock. It took my brain a second to comprehend what was going on. Remo had a woman bent over the pool table, holding her down by the neck, as he slammed into her from behind. She moaned loudly despite her cheek being pressed against the table. At the other end of the room, a woman was on her knees in front of Savio, his hand fisting her blond hair, guiding her movements.

The glass slipped from my hand and shattered at my feet as panic filled my body. Savio and Remo’s eyes zeroed in on me. I tried to whirl around and run, but my feet slipped on the spilled water, and I landed on my butt. Pain sliced through my thigh, a sharp burn that stopped my breath but not my body.

Scrambling to my feet, I stormed off, my bare feet slipping as I fought for balance. My breaths came in short gasps, my vision turning black at the corners. I could hardly breathe from fear as I rushed into the master bedroom and locked the door. Then I stumbled into the bathroom. For a moment I was sure I’d throw up, but after I’d splashed water in my face, my nausea ceased. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being dirty. I knew it was just in my mind, which summoned the memories that haunted my nights.

A sharp twinge in my inner thigh caught my attention momentarily, and I stared down. Blood trickled down my leg. Red rivulets slithered down my skin.

I started shaking, more horrible memories resurfacing and clawing out of my chest.

Slowly, I lifted my nightgown to find a piece of glass in my upper thigh. I clutched the sink. Blood covered my legs like it had so many years ago. I kept picturing Remo and Savio with these women.

Shaking, unable to stand, I sank to the ground.

The sound of the bedroom door being busted open registered in my foggy mind, and then two strong male legs came into focus. Nino came in, dressed only in briefs.

Tags: Cora Reilly The Camorra Chronicles Romance
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