Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3)(45)

“When will Sofia find out?”

“Dad will talk to her tomorrow first thing in the morning. Danilo insists on it. He also insists we up the number of guards.”

“He doesn’t want history to repeat itself, I suppose,” I said softly.

Samuel stiffened. I pinched him lightly. “Stop it.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because you were feeling guilty again, and I want you to stop. I want things to go back to how they were before.”

“I want that too,” Samuel said. We both knew it wouldn’t be that easy.



Samuel was already gone when I woke the next morning. He’d always been a late riser, but that, too, seemed to have changed. I slipped out of bed and dressed before I left my room. Instead of heading downstairs, I moved down the hallway to Sofia’s room and knocked. My stomach tightened painfully.

“Come in!” she called.

Frowning at her chipper tone, I slipped in. Sofia lay on her stomach, her ankles crossed. She was drawing. When she spotted me, she flushed. I walked toward her and perched on the edge of the bed. Her arms covered her drawing, and I tilted my head.

“I wanted to talk to you about Danilo. I assume Dad already talked to you?”

She gave a tentative nod, biting her lip. “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad?” I echoed, confused.

“Because Danilo wants to marry me now and not you.”

The tightness left my chest. That was what they told Sofia. Good. I regarded her closely. “No. I’m not. I want you to be happy. Are you okay?”

She bit her lip again and gave a small nod. With an embarrassed smile, she pulled her hand away from her drawing. It was her name and Danilo’s over and over again.

Surprise washed over me. “You like him?”

Her cheeks blasted with heat. “I’m sorry. I liked him even when you were promised to him. He’s cute and chivalrous.”

I kissed the top of her head. Was I this innocent once? This hopeful and clueless?

I pulled back and gave her a stern look. “He’s a grown man, Sofia. It’ll be many years before you’ll marry him. He won’t come anywhere near you until then.”

She nodded. “I know. Dad told me.” She sounded disappointed. So beautifully innocent. I stroked her hair.

“So we’re okay?” she asked.

“Better than okay,” I said then stood and left my little sister to her daydreaming. I missed the days when I thought a knight in shining armor riding a white stallion would steal my first kiss.

Instead a monster had claimed me, body and soul.

My stomach led me downstairs, but I paused when I spotted Danilo in the foyer. I assumed he’d gone over the details of his engagement to my sister with my parents and Dante. For some reason, I was furious. Sofia might be happy, but she didn’t know the extent of her promise. Of course she would have been promised to someone eventually but not as a consolation prize because the Mancinis wanted Dante’s niece.

I walked straight toward him. His face flickered with regret and self-hatred as he looked at me. “Sofia is a girl. How could you agree to that bond, Danilo?”

His expression flashed with anger. “She is a child. Too young for me. She’s my sister’s age for God’s sake. But you know what’s expected. And we won’t marry until she’s of age. I never touched you and I won’t touch her.”

“You should have chosen someone else. Not Sofia.”

Tension shot through his body. “I didn’t choose her. I chose you. But you were taken from me, and now I have no choice but to marry your sister even though it’s you I want!”

A sharp intake of breath made us both look up at Sofia, who was standing on the highest stair, watching us with wide hurt eyes. Her chin wobbled and she whirled around, storming off.

“Damn it,” Danilo muttered. He made a move as if to follow, but I grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?”

“I should talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Danilo pulled back, his expression back to being controlled, calm, poised. “I should apologize.”

“I’m not sure she’ll talk to you. But we can try,” I said quietly. I led him upstairs, trying to ignore the way his eyes lingered on my throat. I hadn’t covered the marks this morning.

I pointed at Sofia’s door, and Danilo knocked firmly.

“Go away!”

“Sofia,” Danilo said calmly. “Can I talk to you?”

It was silent behind the door for a long time. Danilo’s brows drew together.

“She’s probably trying to clean up her face so you don’t see her tears.”

He gave a small nod and again glanced at my throat. I sighed and looked away.

“I will protect her. I won’t fail her like I failed you,” Danilo muttered.

My eyes shot up but the door opened in that moment. Sofia stood in the doorway, looking shy and embarrassed. Her eyes moved from Danilo to me, and I gave her a smile.

She flushed when she raised her eyes to Danilo.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked.

Sofia looked at me for permission.

“Sure,” I said. I knew custom forbade girls from being alone with men, but Sofia was eleven and Danilo had always been a perfect gentleman with me.

Sofia walked back into her room and perched on her plush pink sofa. Danilo followed her inside, leaving the door open. His eyes took in her pink girly room, and I could see how uncomfortable he was. He sank down on the sofa with as much distance between them as the piece of furniture allowed. He looked out of place in the room, like a giant beside her. The contrast couldn’t have been bigger: Sofia in her pink dress with her boisterous nature, and Danilo in his black pants and black dress shirt with his cool demeanor. He had already seemed so much older to me, but in comparison to Sofia?

Not that she seemed to mind. She was peering up at him with so much childish adoration that even my crushed heart sang with joy. I hoped she could hold on to it for a long time. I took a few steps back and gave them a moment of privacy. Two minutes later, Danilo stepped back out. He ran a hand through his dark hair. His eyes met mine, and again I saw the flash of longing and fury.

“And?”

He gave a terse nod. “I think I managed to convince her I said those things to make it easier for you.”

“Good,” I said.

Danilo shook his head, his brows drawing together. “Nothing is good about this situation, Serafina, and I’m surprised that from all of us you are the one who seems to be dealing with it the best.”

I stiffened. “I just want things to return to normal. That’s all.”

He nodded tiredly. “They won’t, but I understand. I need to go now.” He left without another word. I waited until his tall form had disappeared before I stepped into Sofia’s room. “Everything okay?”

She was still sitting on the sofa, staring down at her hands. “I think so,” she said thoughtfully.

“You will be the most beautiful bride, I just know it.”

Her eyes lit up. “You think?”

“I know it.” My chest ached for what I’d lost, for what I could never have, especially not with the man who had my heart.





CHAPTER 22





REMO

Roger’s Arena was packed for my fight as I strode in. Nino followed close behind as we walked toward the booth where Adamo, Savio, Kiara, Leona, and Fabiano were waiting. I was already in my fight shorts, and my body thrummed with barely contained bloodlust.

Roger helped behind the bar for once and gave me a nod in greeting, which I returned. The audience was throwing glances my way, eager, curious, terrified. My fights were always particularly popular—for those who could stomach them. Griffin looked fucking ecstatic as he noted the bets down.

“Who are the unlucky souls you’ll fight?” Savio asked curiously.

“Ask Nino.” I didn’t care who they were. I’d rip them to shreds either way.

“Two ex-cons. Both on the run. Both in desperate need of money and new identities. Out of options,” Nino said matter-of-factly. “One of them kicked his pregnant wife half to death and she lost the baby. Already served a sentence because of manslaughter. The other spent half of his life in jail for child molestation.”

“Sounds like they deserve their death sentence,” Fabiano said with a grin, his arm wrapped around Leona and she smiled up at him in adoration. The sight spiked my fury, and I focused on the cage. “They will wish for the death penalty when I’m done with them.”

The ref called out my name, and I walked through the parting crowd toward the cage and the two dead men waiting for me inside.

The crowd roared and clapped, ecstatic. I swung myself into the cage and assessed my opponents. One of them was taller and broader than me. Maybe I could imagine it was Luca. It would add a nice thrill. The other was short but bull-like, and his stance suggested he was a boxer. Both looked like they knew how to pack a punch. Good.

The moment the fight began, they attacked together. I gripped the short one and rammed my knee into his side but was grabbed from behind by the giant. Short guy scrambled toward me and landed a punch in my stomach. I jerked my head forward and smashed it against his. He staggered and I kicked out against his chest, catapulting myself and the fucker who held me from behind. We crashed into the cage, and I jumped out of Big Guy’s hold. Whirling around, I pushed off the ground and flying-kicked his fucking face, breaking nose, chin, and cheekbone. Blood splattered everywhere, and he fell backward, holding his face. That would keep him busy for a while.