Twisted Bonds (The Camorra Chronicles Book 4)

The next evening, I was baking banana bread when Nino entered the kitchen. My stomach burst with relief seeing him, then my mood fell realizing I’d have to tell him that it hadn’t worked again. Nino came straight toward me and hugged me from behind, kissing my cheek and when I twisted my head around, my lips.

“It’ll work out. We’ve got time.”

“How do you know?” I doubted Remo had run off to tell him the second Nino stepped into the mansion.

“Your expression, and I know it’s around the time of your cycle, and you usually do the test.”

I sighed. “It’s impossible to keep secrets from you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Are you mad?”

Nino frowned. “Why would I be mad? Like I said, we have time. Eventually we’ll have a baby. And it’s not like either of us is to blame. This isn’t something we can affect.”

I pressed my face into his shirt, soaking in his comforting scent. “I’m mad. I’m so mad.”

Nino stilled. “At who?”

“Not at anyone, never at you, not even really at me. I’m just so damn angry and it doesn’t even make sense.”

Nino’s brows had risen at my swearing. “Maybe you need to vent.”

“I had half a glass of Don Papa rum. That didn’t help.”

“Let me guess. Remo told you to drink.”

I smiled. “No, actually he told me not to drink. At least not the expensive alcohol.”

Nino shook his head with a chuckle, but then he became serious again and pressed our foreheads together. “Maybe you just need to let your anger out. We could do some fight training. I always feel better afterward.”

“Why not? It can’t hurt, can it?”

“It should hurt,” Nino said.

I shook my head. “Right.” Nino kissed me again, then pulled back. “Can we go now or do you have to stay for the bread?”

I checked it. It was done and only needed to cool. I quickly took the pan out of the oven before I followed Nino out of the kitchen.

“Banana bread is done,” I called as we passed the gaming room where Savio was working at the laptop. Maybe he’d enjoy a bite tonight. Greta sat beside him on the sofa like a gorgeous little doll and staring curiously at the screen, not the picture book on her lap. Nevio’s delighted screeching sounded outside followed by Remo’s deeper voice. He seemed to be chasing his son around the garden.

“I hope whatever you’re doing is meant for a child’s eyes,” Nino said to Savio.

Savio glanced up then to Greta. “Our betting stats. And it’s not like Greta can read anything. Right, doll-face?”

Greta looked at him with a crooked smile and my heart just melted.

“You’ve really grown on her,” I said softly.

Savio flashed Greta a grin. “I have a way with girls, don’t I?”

She only smiled. Nino stroked my back and I finally dragged my gaze away from them.

Savio put away his laptop and asked Greta, “Why don’t we check on that banana bread? Maybe I can sneak a piece into your mouth before your mom gets all bitchy because of a bit of sugar.”

“I heard that,” Serafina muttered as she came inside, dressed in a bikini, glaring at Savio. He shrugged.

“Sorry, doll-face, I did the best I could.” With a wave he walked off as Serafina picked up her daughter and kissed her rosy cheek.

She gave me an encouraging smile and I knew Remo had told her already, not that it would have stayed a secret long anyway.

“We’re off to the gym,” Nino said then he pulled me along, for which I was glad. I didn’t want to talk about the negative test again.

NINO

“Did you handle things in Sacramento?” Kiara asked as I steered the Tesla down the driveway.

“We found the men who gave Adamo the drugs, yes,” I said. Kiara nodded, regarding me with that quiet concern. She often worried how these acts of brutality affected me and maybe it was good that she thought they could. I ran my thumb over her knuckles.

“He hasn’t left the room. Remo didn’t let me visit him either.”

“You shouldn’t see him without one of us. In this stage of withdrawal, he might very well become violent to reach his goal.”

She shook her head. “Adamo wouldn’t hurt me.”

I looked pointedly at her upper arms and the fading bruises, and when Kiara followed my gaze she sighed. “He didn’t mean to.”

“And he wouldn’t meant to again either. He’d be single-mindedly focused on getting another fix. That’s dangerous. You won’t go near him without one of us, Kiara. That’s my last word on the matter.”

She nodded slowly. “How long will it take for him to become clean?”

“It’s hard to say. It depends on the person, on the severity of the addiction, on their understanding of the problem and determination to fight it. Willpower is the key.”

“Adamo’s got that. He’s a Falcone.”

I smiled, but it wasn’t associated with any uplifting emotions. “Willpower won’t be the problem, but I’m not sure Adamo understands the magnitude of his problem, and that results in a lack of determination to fight it.”

“You’ll help him.”

“I will. We will, but it’s a fight we can’t fight for him. Only he can win it.”

We arrived in the gym ten minutes later and after changing into our workout clothes, Kiara and I entered the boxing ring. She’d gained strength in the time of our marriage, not just mentally but also physically. I wasn’t sure she realized just how much. I helped her put on boxing gloves. She gave me a curious look.

“We’ll both wear them to do some sparring. I think you need a more active training today.”

I put on gloves as well—they would soften my blows further.

“Ready?” I asked.

She nodded and took a deep breath. It didn’t loosen the tension in her body. Kiara had been bottling up her frustration over her inability to conceive and tried to distract herself, but at some point it was going to be too much.

I raised my hands. “Left right. Left right. Quick.”

Kiara landed the instructed blows against my gloved palms, her brows drawing together. “I want to really spar.”

“All right,” I said with a nod, and got in position, fists up. I feigned an attack, which Kiara avoided then she aimed a punch toward my ribs. Not bothering to block her blow, I allowed her the hit. She needed to release her emotions and I wasn’t sensitive to pain, at least not to the amount Kiara could summon.

She landed another hit against my stomach.

“Stop it!” she gasped.

I looked at her.

“Stop letting me win. I want you to fight me. Stop holding back.” She tried to punch me again. This time I blocked her with my fist, not my elbow which would have hurt her.

“If I don’t hold back, I’d seriously injure you.”

Anger flickered in her eyes. It didn’t make sense.

“I’m not helpless! Not helpless!”

Her punches were unfocused, fueled by her overflowing emotions, and I blocked each of them. “I didn’t say you were,” I said calmly, but that only seemed to enrage her further.

“But you treat me like I am! Stop it! Just stop it!” She was screaming now.

I wasn’t sure what to do about her unreasonable behavior. She began pummeling my raised fists again. “Hit me back, so I can fight.”

“Kiara,” I tried again.

She didn’t stop. “Not helpless. Not helpless…”

I couldn’t hit her, so I allowed her to hammer against my chest until she only leaned against my skin, letting out a sob. She sank to the floor and I knelt down as well, and quickly took off the gloves then pulled her on my lap, holding her tightly.

“I am feeling so powerless, helpless. I just want a baby.”

“I know,” I murmured against her hair.

“I hate feeling helpless again. Like everything is out of my control … I thought it would never be like that again. I hate it. I hate it so much. And you know what’s the worst? That I wonder if the rape did something to my body, something that stops me from getting pregnant.” She sucked in a choked breath. “Durant would have loved that. I can practically see his triumphant smile, knowing that even in death he still ruins my life.”

I pulled back and nudged her chin up until her teary eyes met mine. “Kiara, stop. Durant suffered. He suffered for what he did. He paid for what he did, and even if it’ll never be enough in comparison to what he did to you, in the end he was a broken man. But you, Kiara, you aren’t broken. You’ll have a wonderful life and you’ll get your wish. Trust me, one day you’ll have your baby. Don’t pressure yourself. You’re still young. We have time.”

She gave me a wet kiss. “But I don’t want to wait.”

I stroked her cheek, wiping away a few tears. “We’ll make a doctor’s appointment. Okay? We’ll figure it out and then we find a solution.”

“Okay,” she whispered.