Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles Book 2)

KIARA

I love you.

Nino grew tense beneath me, and I stiffened in turn. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe I uttered those words. I hadn’t considered saying them because I knew Nino couldn’t say them back. Love. For him it was something unfathomable, illogical, impossible. He simulated affection for me. Every act of tenderness, every smile and soft expression was a conscious effort.

I swallowed. The words had slipped out without my intention because I’d been so relieved and happy and grateful. I had never told someone I loved them, not even my mother, and no one had ever said it to me.

Nino had been nothing but patient and gentle with me, and it wasn’t something I’d expected. Not in my wildest dreams, not from a man like him, and not from a Falcone. I felt safe with him. But saying the words I’d barely dared to admit to myself had been a mistake. I knew it deep down.

Gathering my courage, I pulled back and sat up. Nino was still inside of me, but he was starting to go soft. I was afraid of looking into his face and seeing him stare blankly at me. It was impossible for him to understand why I had said these three words.

When I raised my eyes, Nino looked like he was trying to comprehend what had just happened. His brows drew together, his gray eyes piercing me to the very core as if he was trying to see into my heart and soul, laying me bare when I had already bared myself to him by admitting to my foolishness.

Embarrassment washed over me, and a deep longing that seemed to tear at the seams of my heart filled my chest. I began to pull away, but Nino wouldn’t let me. His arms tightened around me. “No,” he said firmly. “Don’t run.”

Had it been that obvious on my face that I wanted to run away, even if there was no way for me to run from my emotions?

He cupped my cheek and kissed me, his expression softening. “You are overwhelmed and relieved because we had sex. It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed.”

 Deep down, I knew this act of kindness as well was a conscious effort. He made his facial muscles go soft because he knew I wanted it, because he knew I needed it.

“I meant what I said,” I whispered because I was done running. Nino was right. All my life I’d run from memories, from my family, from men. I was done running, and even if Nino couldn’t understand my feelings, that didn’t change the fact that I had them.

Nino regarded me, his eyes almost … expressive for once. “Kiara,” he began in a low voice.

“I know,” I said quickly, my throat tightening. “I know you can’t return the emotion. I know you don’t feel anything for me, and it’s okay. You are trying to be a good man, even though it’s not in your nature. You are treating me right, you are simulating affection for me, and that’s all right. It’s more than I expected when we married and it’s enough.”

His gaze became searching, and again, I got the feeling that he was trying to peer straight into my heart. Maybe he succeeded because he asked quietly, “Are you sure?”

No, it had been a big fat lie. The idea that Nino could never feel for me what I felt for him filled me with despair, but he had been upfront about his disposition from the very start. I couldn’t hold it against him. I wouldn’t.

“Does it matter? You can’t change who you are. You can’t make yourself feel, so even if it bothered me, that wouldn’t change a thing. I prefer not to fret over things I can’t change.”

“That is a logical choice, but you aren’t the logical type, Kiara.”

I kissed him fiercely, my lips lingering against his as I looked into his gray eyes. As soon as I did, they softened again. Simulated affection. He was so horrifyingly good at it.

“I can try to simulate love,” he murmured, and my heart jerked violently. “It’s not difficult. Humans have a certain way they act around each other when they are in love.”

I was torn between wanting to agree … because if Nino was as good at simulated love as he was at everything else, he could make me believe his emotions were real. I could allow myself to believe a lie. I knew it. But what happened in the moments when I realized the truth, when he forgot to show emotion? These moments would tear me apart if I allowed myself to believe his love could actually be real.

“Kiara,” he said quietly, softly, and even that timbre in his voice was fake, and yet my heart surged with warmth upon hearing it.

I shook my head, my lips brushing against his because we were still so close. “Don’t simulate love. Everything else, I can deal with, but not love. If you ever tell me you love me, it has to be because you really do love me.”

Nino’s arms tightened around me and a flicker of wariness filled his expression. He knew it was never going to happen. Nino loving me was an impossibility.

Could you love someone who didn’t have emotions? Someone who analyzed love as if it were a mathematical problem?

It wasn’t a question that needed answering.

I knew the answer.

I loved Nino, even if he could never love me back.

I had fallen asleep in Nino’s arms.  And as usual, when I woke the next morning, I was curled into him just like every morning, but today felt different. Light streamed in through the gap in the curtains, and I sighed, my fingers tracing along Nino’s stomach.

“How do you feel?”

His voice startled me, even though I’d known he was awake. He always woke before me. I didn’t lift my head and pressed my cheek tightly against his chest. “Good.”

Nino’s hand stroked my arm. “No lies.”

“I’m not lying,” I said and finally looked up into his calm face. It wasn’t exactly cold. “Yesterday, I finally freed myself of him and you helped me do it. That’s all that matters.”

Nino’s fingers moved to my spine then slowly trailed higher, brushing my neck, and I stilled, waiting for the flicker of panic; there was a moment of unease, more because I waited for the panic and memories to surface than because of Nino’s touch. He eased his fingers into my curls, cupping the back of my head, and I smiled.

“See. I told the truth.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but I wasn’t sure why. He looked almost confused, which was strange for Nino. I propped myself up on his chest and kissed him, and he readily returned the kiss and soon pulled me on top of him, his erection digging into my thigh. He pulled me down until his tip brushed against my opening, but he didn’t slip in. Instead, he kissed me and his hands massaged my ass cheeks. I allowed myself to drown in the taste of his lips, allowed the strokes of his rough fingertips to steal the last of my tiredness.

He pulled back slightly, his expression tense with desire. “I want you.”

I kissed him harder, answering him with my body and not with words. His fingers moved between my legs, slipping between my folds, and he exhaled.

“So wet,” he murmured.

I bit my lip when two of his fingers pushed into me. The sensations spread from my core into every nerve ending, and I arched up, allowing him to push deeper into me. How could I have ever thought this wouldn’t be good? Nino managed to make everything good for me.

He watched me with toe-curling intensity as I rocked my hips against his fingers. My pleasure was mounting, and I could feel myself getting closer. Nino pulled his fingers out before I could find my release, and I huffed in protest, squirming on top of him for some friction against his pelvis.

“You’ll get it,” he growled, and I shivered hearing his voice.

He gripped my hips and pulled me down until finally his tip slipped into me, and I moaned at the sensation. He pushed his hips up, sliding all the way in, and I shuddered through my release, desperately clinging to him as my walls clenched around his length.

I buried my face against his throat as he rocked his hips, driving himself into me again and again. No pain, no fear, no memories.

Only Nino’s warmth and the pleasure only he could bring me. Clinging to his shoulders, I looked into his eyes, and in my mind three words repeated themselves over and over again.

 I love you. I love you. I love you.

Neither of us broke eye contact as Nino slammed into me over and over again, and when his thumb flicked over my clit, I threw my head back as pleasure coursed through me. Nino growled against my throat, his tongue swiping over my pulse point. Then he bit down lightly as he released into me.

Listening to his pounding heart, I relaxed. Love: a game for fools. I wasn’t sure where I’d read the phrase, but I knew it was true.

That night Nino had his first fight since we got married. I was more nervous than he was, which wasn’t really all that difficult. But still, I was really nervous.

I put on the elegant red cocktail dress that I had bought with Nino. It wasn’t as luxurious as the other dresses, but it accentuated my curves in a way I had never allowed before. I had always been worried that displaying my body would make people blame me for what happened, that it would make them see that I wasn’t the epitome of purity I was supposed to be, but I wanted to be rid of that thinking as well.

Nino had already left an hour ago so he could prepare for his fight, and I was supposed to ride with Savio. In the last few weeks, he had avoided me, probably because he resented me for the whore-ban in the communal space in the house.

When I walked toward the main part of the house, I found Savio lounging on the sofa, texting someone on his phone. He had a strange smile on his face as he stared at his screen, but he quickly shoved his phone into his pocket when he noticed me and straightened. His dark eyes scanned me from head to toe, and despite him being two years younger than me at only seventeen, he managed to make me nervous with his attention.

“You look hot in red,” he said, surprising me.

“Thanks?” I said hesitantly, not sure how to handle his compliment.

He nodded and came toward me. Savio was almost as tall as Nino and held himself with complete confidence.

I tensed when he stopped beside me.

“You don’t have to get all tense because I’m close,” he said. “You are family. I’m here to protect you.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So far you haven’t seemed too happy having me around.”

He shrugged. “It’s annoying that I can’t fuck girls where I want now that you’re here. I have to go to my part of the house. I really liked to fuck on the pool table.”

I grimaced. “Okay. I’m glad you and Remo both fancy the table.”

He smiled, and it transformed his face, making him more approachable. He was more controlled than Remo in some regards but nowhere near as calm as Nino, and he was way cockier than both of them.

“Come on. I don’t want to be late for the fight. Nino’s going to rip that asshole a new one.”

Savio led me toward his Ferrari. He drove like a madman, and I clutched the seat as if that would save me if he crashed the car. Apparently, Adamo wasn’t the only one who enjoyed racing. I definitely wasn’t a speed junky.

When Savio and I entered Roger’s Arena, a shiver passed through my spine. The place was crowded with people. Every table and booth was occupied, and many people stood against the wall. The scent of blood, beer, and sweat hung in the air, and the neon tubes attached to the mesh wire on the bare concrete walls emitted an eerie glow.

My eyes scanned the words they formed. Honor. Pain. Blood. Victory. Strength. The bar was cast in the same red glow, and the women behind it worked in overdrive to serve the customers quickly. Looking down at myself, I realized how well the blood red of my dress fit the occasion.

Savio nodded toward a red leather booth close to the cage, where Fabiano and Leona were sitting. “Come on. Let’s go over to them.”

In passing, we greeted his friends and their fathers and a few people I didn’t know but who obviously knew who I was.

Arriving at the booth, Leona gave me an encouraging smile. “It’ll be okay. Nino is undefeated in the cage.”

Fabiano nodded. “He’s brain and muscle … that’s too much for most opponents.”

I gave them both a grateful smile as I slipped into the booth across from them. “I know, but I’m really not looking forward to seeing Nino getting hurt.”

Savio snorted. “Don’t worry. My brother is invincible.”

Nobody was, not even Nino, even if his emotionless mask made everyone believe it. Nino was human. He could fail. He could get hurt.

Leona regarded me curiously, and I wondered if my feelings for Nino were obvious to people around me. I hoped I could hide them, because how foolish would I appear if people realized I’d come to love someone incapable of emotion?

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I need to talk to Diego,” he said. His friend was giving him signs. Savio walked off without another word, and a waitress with long black hair and pink lipstick appeared at our booth. She gave Leona a tense smile, ignoring Fabiano, and finally turned to me with a wary expression. “What would you like to drink, Mrs. Falcone?”

That name still made me pause. “Do you have wine?”

The waitress pursed her lips. “This is a fight bar. We have liquor or beer.”

“Careful, Cheryl,” Fabiano said in a low voice that sent a shiver through my body. His blue eyes held a clear warning as he regarded the waitress. “You better remember who she is.”

Leona touched his arm, which was propped up on the table, but Fabiano didn’t take his eyes off the woman. Enforcer. It was easy to forget what that meant.

I felt bad for her and quickly said, “Then a beer.” I needed something alcoholic to calm my nerves and hard liquor was out of the question. I didn’t have the necessary tolerance for it.

“And one for me,” Remo said as he appeared close behind Cheryl. She tensed and stepped aside to let him pass.

“I’ll bring it over in a moment,” she said then rushed off.

To my surprise, Remo slipped into my booth. As usual, my body tightened with unease at his closeness. He gave me a challenging look but didn’t come close enough so we’d touch. “Still?” he asked with a twisted smile.

He didn’t have to elaborate. I knew what he meant, and I didn’t think I’d stop being wary of him anytime soon. He hadn’t given me reason to do so, but something about Remo just screamed danger, and I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Leona rolled her eyes when Remo turned to Fabiano.

“I saw that,” he said under his breath.

I stifled a laugh. Sometimes, very rarely, I managed to get past my fear of Remo. In those moments, I almost understood why Nino thought so highly of his brother.

Two men in fight shorts entered the cage. My brows furrowed. “I thought Nino’s fight was next?”

“The biggest fight is always last,” Fabiano explained. “There are two fights before Nino’s. Whoever wins might end up fighting me or perhaps Savio next.”

“Why do you do this? Why do you keep fighting? It’s not like people don’t fear you enough.”

“If you get comfortable, you get weak. That happens to many people in positions of power. It’s good to prove to people and to yourself that you are still someone to fear,” Remo said, his dark eyes passionate and fierce.

The referee gave the signal. At once, the two men barreled toward each other and collided with grunts. I winced as I watched their kicks and punches. Cheryl returned with our beers, and I took a deep gulp despite my aversion to the taste. One of the men flew against the cage and blood spurted out of his mouth.

I covered my own with my hand. “Oh God.”

Remo cocked an eyebrow. “This is nothing.”

“Maybe for you,” I muttered.

“You’ll get used to the sight.” He nodded toward Leona. “She did.”

“I still don’t enjoy it,” Leona said. “Especially if Fabiano’s in the cage. It’s horrible seeing him getting hurt.” She shuddered.

“I’m not getting hurt,” Fabiano said firmly. “I always win.”

Savio returned and sank down beside Remo. “Because you’ve never fought against me.”

“I’ve fought against you, and I kicked your ass,” Fabiano muttered.

“That was more than a year ago.”

The crowd burst into applause, and my eyes darted toward the cage where one man lay unmoving on the floor while the other stood above him with raised hands.

My heart beat in my throat when the referee finally announced Nino’s fight. His opponent, a man the size of a giant, was already waiting in the cage when Nino stepped out of the changing room.

The crowd regarded Nino with respect and fear as he walked through the aisle they’d made for him. His eyes were directed straight ahead at the cage with an expression of cold determination, yet something was different about him. For once the emotionless mask seemed almost forced, as if he had to make it appear that way. Or maybe my own nerves had me imagining things.

Nino climbed into the cage under the roaring applause of the crowd. In his fight shorts and with his gruesome tattoos, he was an intimidating sight. The moment Nino had entered the room, Remo, Savio, and Fabiano had changed their behavior. There expressions showed no hint of doubt or worry, only pride and the grim knowledge that Nino would win.

I knew Nino was a good fighter, but his opponent was several inches taller and much wider than Nino. My husband didn’t seem impressed by the man in front of him, and the moment the ref got out of the cage and closed the door, he switched into predator mode. His entire body became taut, his eyes cautious as they regarded their opponent.

The man was the first to attack. I tensed when he barreled toward Nino, who jumped to the side and landed a hard kick in the man’s side. Remo cheered loudly, and Savio and Fabiano applauded, but I could not move.

Nino seemed off. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. His opponent got him good in the first few minutes of the fight. Nino was thrown against the cage and landed on the floor hard. I jerked violently, clamping my hand over my mouth to stop a scream as tears formed in my eyes. Remo tensed, leaning forward as if he was on the verge of jumping up.

I sucked in a deep breath, trying not to cry. Remo looked, scanning my expression and eyes. “Don’t lose it. This is public.”

I blinked. “What if he loses?” I whispered. “What if he dies?”

Remo narrowed his eyes in anger, but there was something else there. Worry. “Nino won’t lose, and he definitely won’t fucking die. Understood?”

I gave a nod, and to my relief, Nino was already back on his feet. For a moment, he didn’t move, only regarded the man who was taunting him. Then his eyes moved toward me for a second, and my body exploded with emotions. 

He turned back to his opponent and as if a switch was turned, Nino dropped the analytic calm. I had never seen that look on his face. He lunged at the other man and attacked viciously. He looked unhinged, hungry for blood and death, and he kicked and punched his opponent over and over again, not stopping even as the man dropped to the ground.

It was a deeply unsettling sight.

“What’s gotten into him?” Savio muttered.

Remo didn’t take his eyes off the cage, but his mouth thinned. “I don’t know.”

Nino thrust his fist down on the unconscious man one more time. Then he staggered to his feet, covered in blood, gray eyes alight with fury. Even scarier was how quickly the emotion was replaced his usual calm. What had just happened?

Nino left the cage before the judge declared him the winner and stalked toward the changing rooms under the applause of the crowd.

I jumped to my feet. “Let me out,” I said.

Remo stood as well and gripped my arm. I tensed but didn’t pull away because people were watching, and I knew how to keep up appearances. “I don’t think this is a good time for you to go to Nino. I will handle him.”

“Nino won’t hurt me,” I said quietly.

Remo tilted his head. “Are you sure about that?” His voice held a challenge.

I gave a resolute nod. “Absolutely. Let me go to him.”

Remo smiled coldly and motioned for Savio to make room. They both stepped out of the booth so I could leave before sitting back down.

Remo held my gaze. “I’ve never seen Nino like this, but if you think you can handle him, be my guest.”

Straightening my spine, I moved through the crowd, who backed away from me as if I was contagious. Some people gave me pitying looks; others regarded me as if I was someone to be scared of.  Kiara Falcone. I heard their hushed whispers.

I was glad when I reached the changing room and stepped inside.

Nino wasn’t in front of the lockers, but I heard the shower running and walked around the corner until I caught sight of him in the last stall. He was braced against the tiles, head hanging low as water poured down his body. His head turned and the look in his gray eyes sent a stab of worry through me.

“Are you all right?” I asked breathlessly.

Nino straightened in all his naked glory, covered in cuts and bruises. Magnificent. “Come closer,” he said in a strange voice.

I moved toward him but stopped in front of the shower. Nino stared down at me as if I was a problem he wanted to solve. His expression was intense, on the verge of angry, which didn’t make sense considering this was Nino. He didn’t feel anger. He didn’t feel anything.

He curled his fingers around my wrist and pulled me toward him, his eyes not once breaking their staring. “Nino,” I protested. “My clothes.”

But he didn’t hear me. His lips claimed my mouth, stopping me from saying any more. He pressed into me, his tall frame caging me in. His hand brushed my thigh, pushing up my dress, shoving aside my panties. He slipped a finger into me, his mouth still soft yet dominant, and I arched back against the tiled wall. He followed, not allowing me to escape his overwhelming presence as his free hand cupped my breast through my wet dress. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. His touch and kisses were overwhelming, but my body reacted with a tidal wave of arousal as he slid his finger in and out of me.

He nipped at my lower lip then licked water off it and claimed my mouth again, possessive, unrelenting, desperate … but how was it possible?

His thumb swiped over my clit as he moved his finger faster. “Nino,” I gasped out. “What—”

Again he interrupted me with an almost harsh kiss. I blinked up, confused and turned on, and a bit unsettled but not enough to stop. He added another finger, and I grasped his shoulders to steady me. He hooked one of my legs over his hip, opening me up so he could slam his fingers deeper into me. I rocked against his hand, clinging to him as his mouth ravaged mine, all the while his eyes never looking away from mine as if he was trying to devour me. As if he needed me. He flicked his thumb over my clit again, and I cried against his lips when my orgasm rocked through me. Stars burst in my vision, an almost blinding pleasure. My fingers dug deeper into Nino’s skin.

I stared at him, openmouthed, panting. He slowed his thrusts then eased his fingers out.

He released me but moved even closer until he filled all of my vision and breathed harshly as he stared down at me. He was hard, digging into my stomach, but he made no move to take things further, and it confused me, like his expression confused me. 

“Nino?” I reached for his chest, trailing my fingers over it then moving lower. He didn’t take his eyes off me, but when I curled my fingers around his shaft, his hand came down on them, and he leaned forward, his mouth brushing my ear.

“If I fuck you now, it’s going to be against this wall. It’s going to be hard and fast, and nothing like last time. Nothing like you want. Nothing like you need.”

I shivered at the underlying threat in his voice. I gazed up into his eyes, and again they shifted between anger and absolute calm. I didn’t understand any of it. Had the fight unchained him that much? Remo and Savio had been stunned by his behavior, so it wasn’t something that happened with every fight.

“You won’t hurt me.”

He took a deep breath, chest heaving, and closed his eyes. My dress clung to my body and my feet swam in my heels, but I stayed where I was, close to Nino, as he battled whatever demons the fight had summoned. His breathing slowed and his hand around mine loosened until he finally released me completely.

I kept my fingers around his erection and lightly brushed my thumb over the silky tip. Nino’s eyes jerked open, but this time he didn’t stop me. I moved my hand slowly up and down, not hard and fast, trying to give him comfort and not let this be his outlet for the violence brooding in his body. He braced himself, placing his hands on both sides of my head, and regarded me through half-closed eyes.

He rocked his hips in rhythm with my pumps, and eventually some of the tension slipped away. His breathing deepened as I rubbed him, and when I used my second hand to cup his balls, he let out a low breath and pumped even faster. I wanted to comfort him, wanted to show him that I was there for him.

Nino lowered his head, and I tilted mine back to meet his mouth for a kiss. It was gentle, unhurried, and deliciously slow. No anger or violence, only beautiful sensuality. My own body responded to the kiss and the feel of Nino coming undone under my touch. His moves became less controlled and his kiss more passionate, and then his body tightened, and he groaned against my mouth. He jerked in my hand, his eyes closing. I kept stroking, and for a long time he stayed still, his forehead lightly pressed up against mine, his chest heaving.

I released him and the water washed away every trace of our juices. Nino opened his eyes again, and his expression was back to the familiar calm. I was torn between missing the more unhinged version of him, the one he’d never shown before, and being relieved that Nino hadn’t lost it completely.

He straightened, robbing me of his heat. He turned the water off, his eyes trailing the length of me. “You can’t walk out of the changing room in wet clothes,” he said matter-of-factly.

I searched his face for a hint of something, but he returned my gaze steadily, eerily. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed two towels. “It’s probably for the best if you undress and dry yourself. I will get dressed and see if I can organize clothes for you.”

Nodding mutely, I took the towel, wrapping it around my curls to stop them from dripping all over the place. I peeled my soaking dress off my body. Despite his words, Nino didn’t leave or move to get dressed. Instead, he watched me remove my dress then my underwear. “Nino, are you all right? You’ve been off since the fight.”

“I’m fine,” he murmured then finally dried himself off and got dressed. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“What if someone comes in?” I asked, a hint of worry creeping into my voice.

Nino shook his head. “Nobody will dare to come in. Trust me. I won’t be gone long.”

He disappeared, and I wrapped another towel around myself, staring down at the red heap at my feet. What had gotten into Nino?

As promised, he returned a few minutes later with jeans and a plain black T-shirt. “Roger’s waitresses keep spare clothes in case they spill something.”

I took the clothes and put them on. They were a bit too big on me, but at least they smelled clean and were dry. I cringed, thinking about what people would say if I came out in different clothes than before.

“Something is bothering you,” Nino said, coming a bit closer, his brows drawn together.

“I’m worried what people will think of me.”

He gripped my waist and pulled me toward him. “They will think that you gave your husband a prize for winning.”

My cheeks grew hot. “Yeah, that.”

“And?” he asked quietly, the strange look still in his eyes. He nibbled my throat, then my ear. “You are my wife.”

My lashes fluttered, and I released a strangled breath. I was already getting aroused again. He picked my dress up from the ground, wrung it out, and put it into his bag before taking my hand. I took my slippery heels in my free hand and followed Nino out of the changing room, barefoot.

Most people had left the bar by now, but everyone who was still there stared at us. It took all of my self-control not to duck my head under the force of their scrutiny. Nino’s presence helped. He appeared completely unfazed, of course. When we arrived at the booth with his brothers and Fabiano and Leona, they all regarded us strangely. My face heated, knowing what they were thinking.

Remo’s evaluating gaze was especially hard to bear. His eyes narrowed as they moved between his brother and me. “I take it you fucked his strange behavior right out of him?”

My mouth fell open. “I—I didn’t—”

Nino squeezed my hand. “Let’s go home. I’m done with this day.”

Remo nodded then exchanged another look with Fabiano and Savio. They were as puzzled by Nino’s strange behavior as I was.