Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3)(30)

I wanted to deepen the kiss. My fingers trembled against Remo’s chest. I wanted to look away from his dark eyes and at the same time I wanted to drown in their power. I wanted so many things when he was around. Things I’d always be forbidden to want.

A man of unparalleled cruelty. My captor. My enemy.

I stumbled back, wheezing.

“Do you want to run again?” The dark amusement in his voice wasn’t as convincing as it usually was. He sounded strained.

I didn’t want to run, and that was the problem because I should want to run from the desire. I took another step back.

Remo smiled darkly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as scared of me as you are now.”

Terrified. I was completely terrified. I turned and ran back to the mansion. On the terrace I collided with Kiara, and we had to grip each other to keep our balance. My eyes met Nino’s—he was standing behind her as always—and for a moment I was sure he’d attack me, but Kiara pulled away from me.

“Hey, are you alright?” she asked, touching my arm, looking concerned.

I nodded jerkily.

“You sure? Did Remo do something?”

Did he? Or did I? The lines were getting blurry. Remo was right. Every day I was here things got more complicated. Captivity broke me, only not in the way I thought it would.

Nino’s gaze moved past us. I knew whom he was seeking.

“No,” I whispered in reply to her question.

Kiara frowned. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

“Kiara,” Nino warned.

“No,” she said firmly. “This is getting ridiculous. Serafina won’t hurt me.”

She took my hand and led me inside where she pushed me down on the sofa. Remo and Nino remained outside. I could hear the low rumble of their voices. It sounded as if they were in an argument.

Kiara handed me a glass of water then sat down beside me. “Is it because of your brother? Nino said they allowed him to return to the Outfit. That’s good, isn’t it?”

I nodded. It was. My brother. My family. The Outfit. My fiancé. I owed all of them loyalty. I owed them resistance and a fight.

“Serafina?” Kiara touched my thigh.

I met her compassionate gaze and touched her hand. “I’m losing myself.”

Her eyes widened then flitted to the French windows. “You know, I was completely terrified of Remo in the beginning. But I saw sides of him that made me realize he’s more than brutality and cruelty.”

“Remo is the cruelest man I know. He is beyond redemption.”

She smiled sadly. “Maybe he just needs someone who will show him the path to redemption.”

I laughed harshly. “I hope you don’t think that’s going to be me. The only path I’ll show him is the road to Hell. I hate him.”

Kiara squeezed my thigh but didn’t say anything. I was relieved when Nino took me up to my room, not Remo.

I traced the line of the healed cut on my forearm, wishing it were still fresh, wishing Remo would hurt me again. More than that, I wished I didn’t need that kind of reminder because Remo Falcone was beyond redemption. I shouldn’t need reminding.



The next day Remo and I did our longest run so far despite the exceptionally hot late August sun. We both needed to relieve pent up energy it seemed. We hardly spoke. I tried to keep my mind blank, tried not to think of my family who was suffering because Remo refused to make a new demand. Guilt became harder to bear every day. The guilt over not suffering the way I should be.

My eyes registered a shadow above our heads. A large black and white bird of prey with a red head. “Look,” I panted. “There’s your spirit animal. A vulture.”

Remo stopped and laughed. A real laugh. Not dark, taunting, or cruel. “Good to know you find me that repulsive.”

I wished. He took a bottle of water from the small running backpack and handed it to me. God, how I wished I found Remo’s body repulsive. I took a sip of water then handed him the bottle back.

“When are you going to ask my uncle for Rocco Scuderi?” I asked to distract myself and him.

Remo’s expression hardened, his eyes returning to the sky. “Vultures wait for their prey to drop dead. I think the Outfit’s almost there.”

“You can’t win this game. The moment you return me, the Outfit will rise and strike back. An endless spiral of violence will start.”

“Why would you say that, Angel? Don’t you want to be returned? Danilo is waiting eagerly to wed and bed you.”

I followed the large bird’s flight, wondering how it would feel to be free like that. A marriage to Danilo seemed so unreal in that moment, so far away, when I had already been less than forty minutes away from being married to him. That girl in the beautiful white wedding dress, she felt like more of a stranger every day. My eyes were drawn to my hand, but the ring wasn’t there. For the first time since my engagement to Danilo, I’d forgotten to put the ring on in the morning.



“One month,” Remo reminded me as he led me through the garden.

It took me a moment to understand what he meant. “Since you captured me,” I said quietly.

One month. Sometimes it felt so much longer, sometimes like only yesterday. I had never thought I’d survive a single day in the hands of the Camorra, in Remo Falcone’s hands, and now I’d survived so many more. Remo was more patient than I’d thought. I was fairly sure my family and the Outfit was at a point by now that they’d hand Scuderi over, even if my grandfather disapproved. He was an old man close to death.

I stared down at my bare feet in the grass. As a child I’d loved to run around barefoot, but eventually I had stopped because I was told it was undignified. Ice Princess. I’d enjoyed being her in public, even if she wasn’t a reflection of my true self. It was who I was supposed to be as Dante’s niece, as Danilo’s wife. Controlled. Dignified. Graceful.

I caught Remo watching me. No control. Unbridled emotion. Furious passion.

One month.

I averted my eyes. Remo led me closer to the mansion.

“I want to know what’s going on in your head,” Remo said.

I was glad he couldn’t. “Maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me what’s going on in yours.”

Remo stopped. “Right now I’m imagining how it would feel to bury my face between your legs, Angel.”

I froze. Remo obviously enjoyed my shock if his smirk was an indication. I didn’t get a chance to retort because a low moan sounded above us. My eyes darted to the open window, my brows pulling together. Remo moved behind my back, standing very close and leaning forward slightly so his face was beside mine. He nodded up to the window. “That’s Nino and Kiara’s bedroom.”

A woman moaned again, an abandoned, uncontrolled sound full of pleasure.

I took a step back but bumped into Remo, who didn’t budge. “That’s the sound a woman makes when a man is eating her out.”

“You are disgusting,” I gritted out, trying to get away, but Remo’s arms wrapped around me from behind, keeping me in place.

“Please,” Kiara gasped out. “Please, more.”

“Do you want to know why I know Nino is currently licking pussy? It’s because you don’t hear him. His face is buried in it.”

Kiara’s moans turned louder, desperate, and then she cried out.

I wanted to be disgusted, but my body reacted hearing these sounds. Heat gathered between my legs.

“Have you ever made this sound, Angel?” he murmured. “No, you haven’t. But don’t you wonder how it would feel to be overwhelmed with so much pleasure to force these kinds of moans from your lips?”

I stopped struggling, but Remo didn’t loosen his hold on me. His firm chest, warm and strong, still pressed up against my back. “A tongue between your thighs, licking, sucking. Don’t you want to know how that would feel?”

I pressed my lips together, but I could do nothing about the trickle of wetness between my thighs. Above us new moans rang out. Kiara, followed by deeper, more restrained grunts.

“You are a grown woman, and yet you’ve never come so hard you lost yourself. You’ve never had a man buried between your thighs, eating you out.” Remo’s mouth brushed my ear. Then his tongue slid along the outer rim until it reached my earlobe. He circled it then drew it between his lips and sucked lightly, and I felt it all the way between my legs. He released my earlobe and exhaled. Something hard dug into my lower back. I should have drawn back in disgust, but I was utterly frozen.

“Are you wet, Serafina? Wet for me?” Remo rasped in my ear, and a small shiver passed through my traitorous body upon hearing his voice.

“I won’t ever bow to your will, Remo,” I whispered harshly.

“Who says I want you to bow, Angel? I want you to give me yourself freely because you want to, because you choose to. Have you ever chosen anything only because you wanted to? Without heeding the consequences? Without regard to what’s expected of you? All your life you’ve bowed to your parents’ will, your uncle’s will, the Outfit’s will, and once I’ll release you, you’ll bow to Danilo’s will.”

I hated Remo, hated him for making sense, hated him for getting under my skin. And I hated myself for letting him.

“One day you will realize that you were never freer than in your time with me. Whatever you do, no one from the Outfit must know, and even if they find out, they won’t blame you, Angel.”