Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3)(68)

Every time Adamo lifted Nevio into his arms, he began wailing in protest. I gave Adamo an understanding smile when he let out a sigh. “I can take over if you want?”

Adamo smiled sheepishly. “I need a break.”

Chuckling, I took Nevio from him and hoisted him up on my hip despite his loud protest. “Mom, no. No. No. No!”

“I was so looking forward to them speaking,” Remo said from his spot on a blanket where he played with Greta while trying to get work done on his iPad simultaneously. “But Nevio enjoys the word ‘no’ a bit too much for my taste.”

“No,” “Mom,” and “Dad” were the only words that Nevio had mastered so far.

“No!” Nevio bellowed.

I laughed.

Remo shook his head. “Nevio, that’s enough.”

Nevio frowned, his lips turning into a pout. “No?”

Remo’s mouth twitched.

“If you’re being quiet, I’ll set you back down,” I said. Nevio regarded me, then Remo, obviously unsure if our offer was worth it.

Greta crawled closer to Remo, and he looked back down to her. She pressed her hands to his legs and slowly pushed up, her butt raised, then she stumbled to her feet. Remo reached out, and she curled her tiny hand around his index finger and Remo’s other fingers covered hers, steadying her, and my eyes began to water.

“Good,” Remo encouraged.

She looked at him, surprised, and still a bit unsure.

She took a hesitant step, and he smiled. “Very good, mia cara.” Her smile widened and she took a few uncoordinated, shaky steps and stumbled into him. He became still as she clung to his shirt and finger, peering up at him with absolute trust.

I set Nevio down because I could tell he wanted to join them. The second his tiny feet hit the ground, he wobbled toward Greta and his dad. Remo wrapped an arm around him as well.

Greta released Remo’s shirt and made the grabby motion when she wanted to be picked up. She still preferred to be carried. Remo put one hand under her backside while the other steadied her back and pressed her to his chest. He held out his hand to Nevio. “Arm?”

Nevio nodded for once, and Remo bent down to lift him up as well. He straightened with a kid on each hip and pressed a kiss to the top of their heads. His eyes found mine, and I didn’t care that he saw my tears. Today I gladly gave them to him.

Remo was beyond redemption in the eyes of so many.

He was the cruelest man I knew.

But with every atom in my body, I knew that he would never hurt our children. He would protect them. They were Falcones. They were his. Ours.

We would both die for them, for each other.

Tomorrow I’d officially become a Falcone, and so would my kids. I knew we’d all carry the name with pride.





CHAPTER 33





SERAFINA

The wedding was scheduled for late afternoon. I chose a Boho-style dress without pearls or a bodice. The top was knitted with a V-neckline, and the skirt flowed freely around my body, touching the ground in soft waves. My hair was down and fell in untamed curls around my shoulders.

I allowed myself another moment to regard my reflection. This day felt so very different to my last wedding day. Back then I’d been scared of the unknown but determined to do what was expected of me, content to marry a man I hardly knew and definitely wasn’t in love with. Today I was absolutely certain of my love for my future husband. Remo held my heart in an iron grip, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Love can bloom in the darkest place, and ours did wildly, freely, untamable.

I hadn’t thought it possible to feel that way for someone; occasionally I’d dreamed of it or foolishly hoped for it, but I knew it to be a rare gift in our circles.

I left our bedroom and walked through the silent hallways of the mansion, a place that had become my home and a safe haven for Greta and Nevio. Falcone. A name we all would carry with pride. A name that our kids would always be able to speak with their heads held high.

Adamo waited for me in the game room and smiled when he spotted me. The French windows were open and a gentle breeze carried in, warm and soothing. Adamo was dressed in slacks and a white shirt and had gotten a haircut to tame his wild curls for the occasion. Tears sprang into my eyes, and my chest constricted painfully. This was supposed to be Samuel. I wanted him at my side in one of the most important moments of my life. He was meant to walk me down the aisle. It had always been meant to be him, but he wasn’t here.

Adamo extended his hand and I put mine in it. He squeezed. “One day your family will understand. One day there will be peace.”

I peered up at him, at his kind smile and warm eyes, then lowered my gaze to the burn mark on his forearm, on the healed cuts. Occasionally, I still saw the haunted look in his eyes and I wondered if he hid the worst of his struggle from us. He was barely home anymore. So much pain and suffering in the name of revenge and honor. “You want peace after what my family did to you?”

“You’re going to marry the man who kidnapped you.”

I laughed. He had me there. If someone had told me on the day of my almost wedding to Danilo that I’d ever consider becoming a Falcone, I would have laughed in their face. So much had changed since then. I hardly knew the girl from back then anymore. She had been replaced by someone stronger.

Adamo lightly tugged at my hand and indicated toward the gardens. “Come. They’re all waiting, and you know how Remo is. Patience isn’t his strength.”

No, it wasn’t, but he’d waited for me more than once.

Adamo led me out of the mansion and past the pool toward the small congregation down the lawn.

My bare feet touched the warm grass, and then I spotted Remo at the end of the aisle below a white wood arc, and a sense of rightness filled me. Blood-red roses trailed around the arc, contrasting beautifully with the white. Kiara had arranged everything with Leona’s help.

It wasn’t a big feast with hundreds of guests, most of whom neither of us would have cared about. It was just us, Remo’s brothers, Fabiano, Kiara, Leona, and the twins, and it felt perfect that way. By not inviting every Underboss of the Camorra, Remo had risked insulting a lot of people, but knowing him he didn’t give a damn and his soldiers probably knew better than to voice their displeasure should they feel it.

In his dark slacks, black dress shirt, and blood-red vest, Remo was a sight to behold. Tall and dark and brutally handsome. His eyes scorched me even from afar, and one corner of his mouth pulled up in that twisted smile, always on the verge of darkness, that I’d come to love.

“Ready?” Adamo asked when we arrived at the starting point of the long aisle of white petals. I didn’t even want to know how long Kiara and Leona had spent arranging them neatly in a pathway, but they had insisted on doing it.

“Yes,” I could say it without doubt, without hesitation.

Everyone had gathered to both sides of the arc. Kiara held Greta in her arms and Nino held Nevio. I couldn’t wait for them to be parents as well. And then I caught sight of a blond head off to the side, away from the rest, at the very fringes, and my throat tightened up. My gaze locked with Samuel’s. He stood with his hands shoved inside his pockets, his expression unreadable. For a moment I was completely immobilized by my emotions. Pure joy and a flicker of worry, because there definitely wasn’t peace between the Camorra and the Outfit. I pushed the last sentiment aside, focusing on the fact that my twin, my Samuel was here on one of the most important days of my life.

Adamo and I started walking down the aisle. I still wished Sam was the one walking beside me, but I understood why he couldn’t, why his pride didn’t allow him to hand me over to Remo.

My gaze drew away from Samuel toward the man who had captured my heart with wild abandon. Remo’s dark eyes held mine as I headed toward him. When we arrived in the front, Greta spotted me and gave me a huge grin. A single petal stuck to the corner of her mouth. That was why Kiara had only bought edible flowers. She was just perfect with kids.

My heart overflowed with love for all of them. Nevio stood beside Nino, or rather held onto his leg, but I could tell that he was growing tired of standing still. He’d soon roam the gardens on unsteady legs.

I let go of Adamo and took Remo’s outstretched hand. Smiling up at Remo, I whispered. “How? How did you get Samuel to come?” My eyes darted to my twin for a moment, disbelieving, incredulous, and so impossibly happy.

I looked back up to Remo, trying to hold back my emotions.

Remo ran his thumb over the back of my hand, his dark eyes filled with warmth he didn’t bestow on many.

“I swore he’d be safe if he came. I used your phone to call him. It was a difficult process.”

I swallowed. I could imagine how much time and effort it had cost to convince Samuel to come here, to risk so much. And I knew that Remo would have to let go of some of his pride to make a step toward my brother, the enemy. He’d done it for me. “He tortured you, almost killed you...”

Remo squeezed my hand. “I did worse. I took you from him. If I was him, I wouldn’t forgive me either.”

“Thank you for bringing him here, Remo.” I touched his chest, hoping he could see just how fiercely I loved him.

“Whatever’s in there, it’s yours,” he said with a dark smile.

“And I love every part of it, of you, the good, the bad, the light, the dark, even your blackest corners.”