Twisted Pride: Chapter 31
Twisted Pride: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3)
I was inexplicably nervous when Remo told me he wanted to announce our wedding to his brothers and Kiara the next day. Weâd all gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Nevio on Kiaraâs lap and Greta on mine.
âYou have a new wedding to look forward to,â Remo said without warning.
Every pair of eyes darted from him then to me. My cheeks flushed. I wasnât sure what Savio and Nino thought of the situation. Adamo and Kiara liked me, but the other two â¦
âWill we be allowed to kidnap someone? Or at least spill some blood? Since you sampled the goods before, bloody sheets wonât happen after all,â Savio drawled, grinning.
Remo reached over the table and hit him over the head. Savio only chuckled.
âBe careful I donât spill your blood.â
Adamo smiled at me then rolled his eyes at Savio.
Kiara got up, handing Nevio to Remo so she could hug me. âIâm so happy.â
Savio and Nino definitely didnât look unhappy, but their reaction wasnât as enthusiastic as Kiaraâs or Adamoâs, not that I had expected it to be.
When Savio got up to take a call, I followed after him but waited until he was done before I approached him. He eyed me curiously when he noticed me. He didnât look like a teenager anymore, especially now that he was sporting stubble.
âAre we good?â I asked.
âIf youâre talking about the soup incident, thatâs forgotten. Trust me, most people want to do worse to me, especially women, so Iâve learned not to hold grudges.â He shrugged. âAnd we were the ones who held you captive, so you have more reason to be pissed.â
âTrue. But my family kidnapped your younger brother and almost killed your oldest, so I guess weâre even?â
Savioâs expression tightened briefly at the mention of my family and my own stomach churned painfully. âYou are part of our family now. I donât give a fuck about the past. Just make sure you donât break Remoâs fucking heart.â
âDo you think thatâs a possibility?â I teased.
His dark brows drew together. âBefore you, Iâd have bet my balls against it. To be honest, I wasnât sure if Remo had something resembling a heart.â
âHe loves you.â
Savio looked away, obviously uncomfortable. âWe are brothers. Weâll die for each other.â
I smiled.
âWe should return,â Savio muttered. âI donât want Remo to think weâre getting it on behind his back.â
I snorted. âSorry, Savio, nothing against you, but you donât stand a chance.â
Savio gave me an arrogant smile. âYou like what you see, admit it.â He sauntered back into the kitchen before I could shoot something back. But for some reason his insufferable ego was almost endearing. It reminded me a bit of Samuel, which was consoling and painful at the same time.
After my conversation with Savio, I felt better. Now I only needed to straighten out things with Nino. He and I had never really warmed up to each other, and I wasnât sure if it was because Nino didnât like me or if it was because of his nature.
Remo leaned in when I sat down beside him. âDid he behave?â
Savio rolled his eyes at his brother.
âHe tried,â I said.
âThatâs all I can hope for. Maybe theyâll try your patience as they do mine.â
âRaising twins will teach you the patience of a saint. I doubt your brothers can test me.â
âWeâll see,â Savio said with a chuckle. âAnd donât hold your breath. Remo wonât reach sainthood anytime soon.â
âI donât want him to be a saint,â I said, looking at Nevio and Remo, both watching me with those impossibly dark eyes.
After breakfast, I asked Nino if we could talk. We headed into the garden despite Remoâs suspicious expression.
âDo you disapprove of our wedding?â
Nino assessed me without a flicker of emotion. âNo. I never considered marriage an option for Remo, but that doesnât mean I donât think itâs a good thing. It was for me despite my own reluctance in regards to marriage.â
I nodded. âYou never seemed to like me much.â
âIt was never a matter of dislike, Serafina. You were our captive, the enemy, and I didnât want Remo to lose himself in his game. I thought it wouldnât work. But I was wrong. You saved him.â
âI couldnât let my family kill him.â
Nino shook his head. âThatâs not what I mean.â
I waited, watching Ninoâs profile as he stared off into the distance.
âRemo and I, we are messed up in ways that canât be fixed, not really. For someone to accept us despite what we are, it takes a lot of forgiveness and love. Our past ⦠it broke certain parts of us.â
âRemo never talks about the past.â
Nino nodded. âHeâll tell you eventually. Give him time.â
âWe have all our lives.â
REMO
I held Serafina in my arms after sex, my chest pressed up to her back, my nose buried in her soft hair, relishing in her sweet scent. She traced the scars on my palm. She did it often. In the beginning it had bothered me because it was a part of me I didnât share with anyone except for Nino.
âI was nine,â I began then stopped because even with Nino Iâd never discussed what had happened. Words had always seemed lacking to convey our shared horrors. The smell of blood filled my nose as it always did when I remembered that day. Soon the stench of burning fabric and skin joined the metallic tang.
Serafinaâs fingers on my palm had stilled. âI love you no matter what. Iâve heard of every horror you committed, and Iâm still here.â
She was. I could imagine what kinds of stories were whispered in the Outfit and they were all true. And Serafina had experienced a small part of our nature when Iâd captured her, when Iâd cut her. Looking at the faded white scar, I still felt a fucking twinge in my chest. I brushed aside her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. That she found it in her heart to love me despite it all, that she trusted me with our children, it seemed impossible.
âI know what I am. But my father, he was monstrous in a different way. He enjoyed torturing the people he was meant to protect, just as much as he did his enemies, maybe even more. My mother loved and feared him equally, and she allowed him to humiliate and torture her because of it. Allowed him to do the same to us. Love made her weak.â
Serafina gave a small shake of her head. âReal love doesnât make you weak. Love how itâs meant to be makes you stronger. But thereâs no room for fear where thereâs love.â
I tightened my hold around her. âDonât you fear me?â
âI used to, but not anymore and never again.â
I rested my forehead against her hair. Very few people didnât fear me. My brothers and maybe Kiara, and that was what I wanted, what I worked for. âEventually she hated my father more than she loved him, and she decided to punish him in the only way she thought she could.â
I closed my eyes, remembering that day.
Mother came into my bedroom in her long nightgown, which was straining over her belly. She never brought us to bed or said goodnight, so I tensed when I saw her in the doorway. Iâd gotten me and my brothers ready for bed while she lay on the sofa, staring at nothing.
âRemo, my boy, can you come with me?â
I narrowed my eyes. She sounded too caring, too loving. My boy? She sounded like a mother. She smiled and I took a hesitant step forward, more hopeful than suspicious.
âNino and Savio are already in my room.â
That convinced me. I followed her toward her bedroom. For a second I considered slipping my hand in hers, but she had never held my hand like that and I was too old now. The moment I stepped inside the bedroom, she threw the door shut and closed us in. My eyes registered Nino kneeling on the floor, cradling his arm. Everything was red. Rivulets of red trailed down his arms, his wrists gaping open. His eyes locked on mine. He wasnât making a sound, only crying as he bled. Blood. Everywhere. It clogged my nose.
I frantically looked for Savio and found him motionless on the bed. A cry wedged itself into my throat until I noticed the rise and fall of his chest. Not gone.
Mother stepped in front of me and grabbed my arm. Silver flashed before my eyes and I jerked. My hands and face burned as the blade cut me. I hit and clawed and roared, fighting her off. And then she stopped and the smell of smoke filled the room. The curtains were burning. Weâd burn. Weâd all burn. Nino began to hum, rocking back and forth, pale and sweaty.
I rushed toward the window. Outside I heard the shouts of my fatherâs men. I ripped at the curtains and flames licked at my palms and neck and arms, snatching hungrily at my skin. I screamed as I broke the window. I helped Nino out then grabbed Savio and jumped out of the window with him in my arms. Bones broke and I burned all over. Agony, pure and overwhelming. Staring up at the window, I saw our motherâs crying desperate face amidst the smoke and flame. Crying because Iâd taken her revenge from her, because I hadnât died with my brothers as we were supposed to. I wanted her to burn, wanted her gone from our life. I wanted her dead.
Serafina was quiet when I finished. She swallowed. âHow can a mother do that to their children? Iâd die for Greta and Nevio. Iâd never hurt them. And if you ever hurt them, Remo, Iâll kill you. Thatâs a promise.â
âI hope you will because if I hurt them, I deserve nothing less than a knife to the fucking heart.â
Serafina turned around in my arms, her blue eyes fierce and trusting. âBut you wonât ever hurt them. I know you wonât and you protect the people you love.â
I nodded. âI wonât and nobody else will either.â Iâd fucking destroy anyone who tried.
She traced the scar over my eyebrow. âI know itâs wrong but I wish I could have killed your mother for what she did to you.â
My chest tightened. I didnât tell her that my mother was still very much alive. I brought Serafinaâs hand up to my face and kissed her palm then the scar I had created. âI wonât allow you to be dragged down into my darkness.â
I was going to kill my mother one day.
One day, Nino and I would be strong enough to do it.
âThatâs not your choice alone.â
âI rule over hundreds of men. I can be very convincing if I try.â
She smiled a slow, fierce smile. âBelieve me, I know. You convinced me to fall in love with my captor. But I can be very stubborn.â
I pulled her closer. âThatâs true. You almost brought me to my knees.â
She raised one perfect blond eyebrow. âAlmost?â
âYou had me lying in my own blood at your feet, isnât that enough?â I asked in a low voice.
âDonât do that ever again.â
âI wonât. The next blood Iâll bathe in wonât be my own.â
Realization flickered in her eyes. She sighed then kissed me. âYou swore not to kill my family.â
âAngel, I swore not to kill them that day. The men in your family are high-ranking Outfit members. Your uncle is Dante fucking Cavallaro. If I want to win this war, Iâll have to kill him, and I will win this fucking war. Because if I donât, Cavallaro will and that means Nevio and Greta, you, my brothers⦠wonât be safe. And I donât care how many Iâll have to kill to guarantee your fucking safety. I will kill everyone who threatens the people under my protection.â I touched her throat, stroking the soft skin there. âYou canât have it all. You have to make a choice.â
She shook her head. âI made my choice, Remo. I chose you and Iâll choose you over and over again.â
Fuck. I didnât deserve this woman.
SERAFINA
Weâd been living in Las Vegas for two months now. I was starting to feel at home, more at home than Iâd felt in Minneapolis since Iâd given birth to my twins. I kept sending Samuel messages, but they became less frequent because of his lack of reaction. Every week Iâd send him a short note telling him I was well and a photo of the twins and me. He hadnât replied so far, but I knew heâd read them and even that was a small victory. He hadnât blocked me. He still wanted to know how I was doing even though I was practically the enemy now. The war between the Camorra and the Outfit wouldnât end anytime soon, even if things had calmed down for the moment. Dante was probably planning something, and I was fairly certain Nino and Remo wouldnât ease down on the Outfit either.
Remoâs birthday was tomorrow and even if he didnât celebrate it, I wanted to give him something special. It was difficult to come up with a present for someone who ruled over the West Coast and could buy anything he wanted because money wasnât an issue.
It had taken me a long time to come up with something that held meaning and showed Remo what he meant to me. Early in the morning, after another sleepless night with the twins, I approached Nino who was swimming his usual laps in the pool. Kiara was keeping watch over the babies since they were both rather needy at the moment due to their teething.
Nino noticed me standing beside the pool and swam toward the edge. âIs something the matter?â
âI have a favor to ask of you.â
Nino hoisted himself out of the water. My eyes scanned the myriad of tattoos on his upper body and thighs. Nino regarded me curiously, and I realized Iâd been staring. âSorry. I didnât mean to gawk, but I was wondering where youâve had your tattoos done.â
Nino walked over to the lounge chair and picked up his towel. âSome of them I did myself. The ones in places I canât reach I had done in a tattoo studio not too far away.â
âYou do tattoos?â
âI can do them, yes,â he said. âWhy?â
I hesitated. âBecause I want to get a tattoo. Can you do it for me?â
âThat depends what exactly you want.â
âI want angel wings on the back of my neck,â I said, a flush spreading on my cheeks under Ninoâs scrutiny. I wasnât sure if he knew Remoâs nickname for me, but it felt like something personal I was sharing.
âWings, I can do ⦠if you have a design in mind. Can you show me where exactly you want the tattoo?â
He came up to me and I pushed my hair to the side, baring the nape of my neck and touching the spot. âHere.â
âIt will be painful,â Nino warned.
I sent him a look. âI gave birth to twins. I think I can handle a needle.â
Nino inclined his head. âThat is true. While I canât assess the force of labor pain since Iâve never experienced it, I assume itâs excruciating.â
âIt is,â I said. âSo you will do it?â
âIf itâs your wish, then yes. When?â
âAs soon as possible. The tattoo is Remoâs birthday present.â
Again Nino gave me a mildly curious look. âWe can do it later in the afternoon. I can set up everything in one of the guestrooms.â
âThank you,â I said.
âThank me once itâs done and youâre happy with the outcome.â He paused. âI assume you donât want Remo to find out for now.â
I nodded. âIf possible.â
âItâs a secret I donât mind keeping from my brother.â
As promised, Nino had set up everything in a guest bedroom in his wing. I was nervous despite my best intentions not to be.
Nino oozed calm as I stretched out on my stomach on the bed. He disinfected my neck before he touched the tattoo needle to the skin, and I winced at the first sting. I soon got used to the burning sensation. Nino moved quickly, meticulously, and I didnât speak as he worked, not wanting to distract him. When he was finally done, I sat up and accepted the mirror Nino held out to me. He held a second mirror behind my neck.
The outcome was more stunning than I could have ever imagined. I didnât know it was possible to paint such intricate artwork with a needle. The feathers of the wings looked so real I expected them to flutter in the wind.
âItâs beautiful,â I admitted.
Nino nodded. âRemo will appreciate the message.â
âYou know that he calls me Angel?â
âI overheard him saying it, yes, and you are the counterpart to his fallen angel on his back.â
âDid you tattoo it as well?â
âI did,â Nino murmured.
âWhy the broken, singed wings? The fallen angel is kneeling, and the tips of the feathers are crooked and burning.â
Nino regarded me closely. âWhat did Remo tell you about our past?â
âHe told me your mother tried to kill you and that you almost burned to death.â
Ninoâs face tightened and he nodded. âRemo burned to save us. I never asked Remo about the details why he wanted to get the tattoo, but I think it has something to do with that day.â
âThank you, Nino.â
Nino gave a small shake of his head. âNo, thank you.â
Hiding my tattoo from Remo proved difficult. I had it covered with my hair, but when I moved my head, I often had to stop myself from wincing.
That evening, after bringing the twins to bed, Remo pulled me against him in our bedroom, his hands squeezing my butt before they moved higher. He kissed me and touched my neck. I drew back with a wince before I could stop myself. His eyes narrowed.
âWhatâs wrong?â
I considered making up something, but Remo was too good at detecting lies, and his birthday was only two more hours away. âThis was supposed to be your birthday present,â I said softly as I lifted my hair and turned so he could see my neck.
Remo was quiet and I risked a look at him over my shoulder.
Slowly he raised his eyes from my wings with a strange smile. âWings.â
I smiled. âBecause you gave me wings.â
He shook his head, his dark eyes softening. âAngel,â he said quietly, brushing his fingers over my tender skin. âYou had wings all along. You only needed a little push to spread them and fly.â
I turned back to face him. âMaybe, but I wouldnât have done it on my own.â
We kissed slowly at first, but Remo quickly deepened our kiss, and suddenly we were on the bed tugging at our clothes and stroking every inch of naked skin we could reach. I pushed Remo onto his back, smiling, and his answering smile, all desire and dominance, sent a stab of arousal through me. Leaning forward to claim his mouth for a kiss, I lowered myself on his erection, groaning at the feeling of fullness. Remo pushed up into a sitting position, bringing us chest to chest, racing heartbeat to racing heartbeat. I gasped at the shift of him inside of me, at the feel of his strength as his arms slung around my back. I rolled my hips, driving him deeply into me as we kissed.
We held each otherâs gaze as we always did, and those dark eyes captivated me as theyâd done from the very start. So often cruel and merciless but passionate and reverent when they rested on me, tender and caring when they regarded our twins.
When weâd both found our release, we stayed wrapped up in each other like that, our breathing ragged, bodies slick with sweat. I ran my fingertips over Remoâs back, tracing the spot where the wings of his fallen angel spread out. He trailed his own fingertips upwards, along my spine until he reached my new tattoo. I winced slightly and Remoâs touch turned even softer. My heart was ready to burst out of my ribcage from the look in his eyes.
Remo scanned my expression, his brows drawing together.
I sighed. âSorry. Since my pregnancy Iâm more emotional. I hope itâll go away soon.â I cleared my throat then rested my palm over his shoulder blade. âWhatâs the meaning of your tattoo? You know why I got mine, but I wonder why you got yours.â
A hint of wariness flashed in Remoâs eyes, the walls he was used to keeping up wanting to lock back in place. âNino did it. About seven years ago.â
I nodded to show him I was listening.
âItâs a fallen angel, like you said. It represents the fall Nino and I took on the day our mother tried to kill us.â
My brows snapped together. âFall? You saved your brothers. Howâs that falling?â
Remoâs expression was dark and twisted, his eyes far away, haunted, angry. âUntil that day Nino and I were innocent. After that we werenât. Weâd already experienced our fair share of violence from our father, but it never affected us like that day did. The flames of that day they singed our wings and our fall into darkness began. We became who we are today. Thatâs why the fallen angel is kneeling in pools of blood.â
Iâd noticed that the fallen angel knelt in pools of some kind of liquid, that a few of its singed feathered dipped into it, but I hadnât realized it was blood. For a moment I wasnât sure what to say, how to console Remo. Could words ever be enough to make the horrors of his past better?
âIâm sorry,â I said quietly.
Remoâs gaze focused on me, tore away from the images of the past. âYou arenât the one who should be sorry. And I wonât forgive her no matter how often sheâd apologize. Not that she ever did.â
I froze. âYour mother didnât die that day?â
âNo. Even though I wanted her dead, Iâm glad she survived that day or Adamo wouldnât be here. She was heavily pregnant with him.â
I shook my head, completely at a loss over what Remoâs mother had done. âWhere is she?â
âIn a mental facility.â Remoâs voice dipped and turned vicious. âWe are paying for it so she can live and breathe and exist, when she shouldnât be doing either.â
âWhy havenât you killed her?â With anyone else I would have never asked something like that, but this was Remo. Killing was in his nature, and his words made it clear that he hated his mother.
Remo pressed his mouth to the crook of my neck. âBecause,â he growled. âFor some fucking messed up reason Nino and I are too weak to kill her. We havenât seen her in over five years â¦â
âDo Savio and Adamo know what happened?â
âSavio has known for a while. And we talked to Adamo a few months after he got initiated.â
I stroked Remoâs neck. âHave you thought about visiting her again to try and find closure?â
Remo looked up, his expression harsh. âThere wonât be any closure until sheâs dead. I donât want to waste another second of my life on her. Sheâs already fucking dead to me. You and Greta and Nevio are what matters now. My brothers are what matters. Thatâs it.â
I kissed him to show him I understood. I didnât think it was as easy as that. Their mother still dominated part of their existence, but I respected that Remo wasnât ready to seek a solution now. It wasnât my place to meddle. He and his brothers would have to face their mother one day, and maybe then they could move past their demons.
All I could do was show Remo a better future. A future with a family that loved him. Heâd always only had his brothers, but now he had us as well.