Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles Book 5)

“We should talk to a few of the Underbosses with stronger Bratva Outposts and plan a simultaneous attack. They are getting too bold. We need to kill as many as possible in a single effort,” I said.

Diego nodded, scanning the map of our territory where Nino had marked the biggest Bratva strongholds. Diego had started working as an Enforcer alongside Fabiano, but because I trusted him the most from all the soldiers, he still accompanied me to dangerous missions. Despite the mess with his sister, he and I had come to a silent agreement—by pretending I wasn’t engaged to his sister. It was a cowardly thing to do and I knew I needed to get a grip, man up and finally ask Gemma to set a date for the wedding, but I had cold feet.

Diego pointed at L.A. and San Diego. “What about them?”

“No signs of Bratva yet,” I said. “They’re trying to get Las Vegas first. It’s a matter of prestige. Remo’s killed and tortured so many Bratva fuckers these last few weeks, but they keep popping up like weeds.”

My phone rang. Remo. “What’s up?”

“The Bratva attacked the Amalfi.”

It took my brain a moment to register his words. Gemma worked in the Amalfi every day. Even if I hadn’t contacted her in the last two months, I’d kept an eye on her.

“Nino and I are on our way.”

“What about Gemma?”

Diego rose from his chair, paling.

“We don’t know anything,” Remo said.

I pushed to my feet, staring at Diego. “The Bratva.” I didn’t need to say more. The Amalfi had been attacked before. In the fifties and sixties, it had been a Russian restaurant, run by the Bratva, before the Camorra had taken it from them. We ran toward my car, jumped in and I floored the gas, my heart beating in my fucking throat.

Diego clutched his phone against his ear, but no one was picking up in the restaurant.

“Call Gemma. She always has her phone with her to talk to Toni!”

He tried—nothing.

Diego gripped his hair. “If…if…fuck.”

“Nothing will happen to anyone.”

Nothing would happen to Gemma.

Diego called home, reaching his mom who was taking care of Carlotta.

I slammed on the brakes in front of the restaurant and shot out of the car. Remo’s SUV was already parked in the front. Pulling out guns, Diego and I stormed into the restaurant.

Remo whirled around, pointing his guns at us then pointed them back at the kitchen doors, approaching them slowly. Nino knelt beside a body. Diego rushed toward them.

His father lay in a pool of his blood. Bullet wounds littered his body. His eyes stared unseeingly up at the ceiling. Diego made a small choked sound. Two dead assholes lay near the bar, dead. Russians, no doubt. The waiters next to the bar were dead as well.

“Where’s Gemma?” I asked.

“We arrived shortly before you,” Nino said. “We didn’t have time to check the kitchen yet. There wasn’t a sound though.”

Which meant everyone still around was dead. Whoever had done this would be gone by now.

“Gemma and Nonna were supposed to be here,” Diego said tonelessly.

Remo motioned for us to follow and together we went toward the kitchen. Raising our guns, Remo shoved open the swing door and we all rushed inside. Like Nino had said, nobody inside the kitchen was capable of making a sound.

Diego’s nonna lay on the floor, a bullet hole in her forehead. Dread settled in my bones and my heart slammed against my ribcage. Diego pushed past me and Remo, and stormed toward his grandmother, then he looked at something to his right.

He let out a hoarse cry, his face scrunching up with despair and he dropped his gun. “No!”

He rushed forward and I followed after him. Then I saw Gemma on the floor in a pool of blood. A tall man lay half on top of her. I froze and everything seemed to stand still.

My breath lodged itself in my throat. My fingers around my gun loosened.

Remo grasped my shoulder, looking at me. “Get a grip!”

I gripped the handle of my gun, even if I hardly felt my fingers or any other part of my body.

Diego fell to his knees beside Gemma. “No,” he roared then softer, “No, God, please.” I staggered toward him and helped him shove the Bratva asshole off Gemma. At least, she was still dressed. She wasn’t raped before they killed her. That was the only consolation. She didn’t have to suffer.

My eyes prickled and I swallowed. The sensation was foreign, one I hadn’t felt since I was a little boy—a heavy pressure in the back of my throat and in my chest. Diego pressed his forehead to Gemma’s stomach and began to cry.

With a shaking hand, I touched his back. Remo appeared beside us.

I looked up at him and for some reason he was blurry. I couldn’t stand the look on his face and so I looked back to Gemma. Fuck. The last words I’d said to her flitted through my head, the horrible things I’d told her, how badly I’d treated her. As if she was nothing but a sex toy for me, nothing important when she was the only girl who’d ever been a friend, the only girl I’d ever wanted for more than sex. Yet, I hadn’t shown her. I had clung to my freedom, because the rush of those meaningless flings and party nights had brightened the darkness that so often filled my insides. It hadn’t worked, not for long. Like a flash that broke through the night for only an instant, the thrill of my flings hadn’t banished that darkness for long.

I bent over Gemma’s head, cupping her bloody cheek and kissed the tip of her nose. She was even still warm. She couldn’t have been dead for long and that realization made this even harder. If we’d been quicker, maybe we could have saved her. Regret over the past is wasted time—that was Nino’s credo. The fuck did he know?

Stroking her blood-covered face, I leaned down to her ear. “I was an asshole. I’m so fucking sorry, Gem, so fucking sorry. I’ll miss you so fucking much, every annoying little thing. You are the only girl I ever truly wanted, and I fucked it up.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. My fingers traced her throat, so soft. So fucking gorgeous even in death. I’d thought I’d have time, that we’d have time to be together, had taken it for granted. The speared watch on my forearm taunted me as I stroked Gemma’s skin. Outsmarting time, what a stupid thing to think.

A gentle pulse throbbed against my fingertips. I jerked my head up, staring at Gemma.

“What is it?” Remo asked immediately. Diego lifted his tear-stained face.

I dug my fingertips into her throat. A pulse. A fucking pulse. For a moment, I didn’t dare believe it. “Remo,” I got out. He knelt beside me and shoved my hand aside, then he pressed his fingers against her pulse point. “Nino!” he roared.

“What… what’s going on?” Diego whispered.

Nino came in then rushed over to us and bent over Gemma, feeling her pulse. “She’s alive.”

Diego sucked in a sharp breath.

Relief washed over me.

Remo moved to the Bratva asshole. “He too.” He grinned twistedly.

“He’s mine,” I said. Once Gemma was taken care of, I’d turn the last few hours of that asshole’s life into a nightmare.

Remo inclined his head.

Nino felt Gemma’s head then moved on to her ribs.

“What are you doing?” Diego asked, eyeing my brother’s hands on Gemma’s belly.

Nino cocked an eyebrow. “Making sure she stays alive. Back off.”

Diego nodded and crawled to Gemma’s head, stroking her hair. “Gemma, can you hear me?”

“Don’t move her yet,” Nino said.

I took Gemma’s hand, linking our fingers. They twitched. Then her lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes, fixing me with those stunning olive irises. Confusion showed on her face. She glanced from me to Diego who looked a teary mess.

She frowned. “Diego, what’s—” Realization flashed in her eyes. “Nonna?” Her voice was small, bringing out my protective side. There were so many things I wanted to tell her.

Diego closed his eyes and gave a small shake of his head. Tears gathered in Gemma’s eyes. “Where’s Dad?”

Diego didn’t react, but got up and turned his back to us, covering his face with his hands. Gemma looked at me, her eyes two pools of misery. “Savio?”

I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Gem.”

She shook her head in denial, then winced, her eyes going out of focus for a moment. She tried to push up into a sitting position, but I grabbed her shoulders, stopping her. “Careful. We don’t know how bad your injuries are.”

Tears slid out of her eyes, and the sight of them trailing down her cheeks cut me deeply. I promised myself to never be responsible for them again.

“Let me take a look at your head,” Nino said. Slowly he and I brought Gemma into a sitting position. I steadied her with an arm around her shoulders, feeling her shake.

Gemma flinched when Nino touched the back of her head.

“Say something,” I said to Nino.

“She’s got a concussion. I don’t think it’s more than that.” He held a finger in front of her eyes and moved it slowly. “You should have a head scan just to be sure.”

Gemma shook her head, grimacing. “I’m fine.”

“Gem, being tough is honorable, but don’t be unreasonable. A head injury isn’t a joke.”

“I need to see Nonna and Dad.”

I looked toward Nino and he gave a small nod. I stood and helped Gemma to her feet. She swayed slightly, causing me to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her against me. She leaned into me, her head resting in the crook of my shoulder. That she didn’t push me away after how much of an asshole I’d been showed how bad it was.

Diego still hadn’t moved. He clutched the kitchen counter with closed eyes.

“Diego?” Gemma asked softly.

His shoulders tensed then slowly, he turned to us with red eyes. “Give me a moment, Gemma. Go ahead.” He looked me in the eye. “Will you keep her safe?”

Fuck, yes. From this day on, I’d make sure she was protected at all times. “Sure.” He nodded then returned to staring at the kitchen counter.

I led Gemma toward her nonna. She grasped my hand in a crushing grip as we stood over her nonna’s body. Someone had closed her eyes. Gemma twitched in my hold. Silent tears still rolled down her pale skin, caught on her full lips.

She looked up. “My dad?”

“Are you sure you want to see him?”

She tried to shake me off but I tightened my hold. “All right. I’ll take you to him, but he’s been hit by more bullets than your nonna.”

Gemma swallowed, resolved. We stepped through the swinging door into the restaurant. Daniele’s eyes were closed as well. Yet, he looked less peaceful than Gemma’s grandma. His expression was frozen with determination and his body littered with wounds.

Gemma tore from my embrace and stumbled toward him. For a moment, she simply stared down at him, then she began to sob. Every single sob wracked her body, shook her shoulders. She sank to her knees beside her dad, pressing her palms against his chest as if she hoped for a heartbeat.

“Fuck, Gem,” I said gently as I crouched beside her and touched her shoulder.

She shook her head. “Dad, please.” Slowly she pulled away, then looked at her palms now covered in his blood. Her clothes and hair were already soaked with her and the Russian’s blood.

She began quivering, her wide-eyed gaze hitting me. “Savio…”

“Shhh,” I crooned, touching her cheek.

She threw herself against my chest, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. I almost lost my balance, but then I tightened my hold on her. Her body vibrated with her crying. I hugged her and pressed my cheek against her hair. Maybe I should have said something, consoled her. Words never failed me, but now I couldn’t come up with a single thing to say. Nothing that wouldn’t sound empty or like a goddamn Hallmark card.

For a long time, she only cried. Nino walked past us to let the arriving soldiers in. Soon the room was filled with our men, who kept their distance to Gemma and me.

Nino gave me a sign that indicated he needed space to search the entire restaurant for proof. His face remained emotionless as usual.

I stood, taking Gemma with me, who still clung to me.

“What about Mom and Carlotta?” She sniffled as she peered up at me so fucking scared, I wanted to kill every Bratva fucker in the country.

“They are at home. Diego called them on our way here.”

Relief followed by dread filled Gemma’s face. “Does… does Mom know?”

“Not yet.”

“Oh God.” Gemma pressed a hand over her mouth, horrified. “What are we going to do now? Without Dad? How’s Mom going to pay the bills for Carlotta? How are we going to get by without Dad? Without the restaurants?”

“I will take care of all of you,” Diego said.

He stood near the swinging door as if he couldn’t bring himself to come closer to his father.

Remo stepped into the restaurant from the kitchen, dragging the Russian behind him. The man was twitching but still unconscious. “I’m going to take him to the Sugar Trap.”

“I’ll take Gemma home with me. That way, you can check on her, Nino, and she’ll be safe,” I said.

Diego didn’t even protest, which showed how distraught he was. “I’ll head home to check on Mom and Carlotta.”

“I already sent a few men over just in case, as well as the pastor,” Nino said.

Diego nodded, then glanced at the Russian before his eyes locked with mine. “You and I, Savio?”

I nodded. Remo handed Diego his car keys. “Here, take my car and check on your mother and sister.” Finally, he walked over to his dad before he rushed outside.

Wrapping an arm around Gemma’s waist, I led her toward my car. She seemed in a state of shock, judging from the way her teeth were shattering and the zoned-out look in her eyes. She slumped in the backseat and closed her eyes. She didn’t say anything on our drive to the mansion. Nino had said she needed to lie down for a while. He’d later check on her again. She followed me inside, leaning heavily on me. Kiara and Serafina sent us worried glances as I led Gemma past the common room.

Once upstairs, I helped her toward my bathroom. I handed her a pair of my sweatpants and the smallest shirt I owned. “Can you shower?”

She nodded but still didn’t say anything.

I left the door ajar when I returned to the bedroom to hear if she passed out, then I sank down on the bed. For a moment, I stared blankly in the direction of the bathroom, then I fell back, closing my eyes. My pulse was still too fast and the tight sensation in my chest was only slowly lifting.

Gemma emerged fifteen minutes later. My sweatpants hung low on her hips and my white-tee showed off the fact that Gemma wasn’t wearing a bra. I tore my eyes away from her chest and returned my gaze to the ceiling.

She surprised me by crawling into bed with me. She looked small and scared. Slowly, I rolled over until I was facing her.

“What’s going to happen now?”

First, I was going to dismember the Russian, then I’d burn the remaining Bratva fuckers out of their hole-ups in our territory.

That wasn’t something I could share with Gemma, though, and it wasn’t really what she’d been asking.

“Diego’s working hard, but he can’t rebuild the restaurant, manage the Capri and earn enough money as an Enforcer to pay for Carlotta’s bills.”

“Gem,” I said quietly. “My brothers and I own the West. We have more money than we can ever spend. Your family sure as hell won’t run out of money. No matter how much money you need, I’ll give it to you.”

The look in her eyes was like a punch in the stomach. “What do you want in return?”

“Fuck,” I breathed. “You think I’d want you to sleep with me, so I’ll help your family and baby sister?”

She only looked at me with those forlorn olive eyes. I moved a bit closer. “I’m not that much of an asshole, Gem. I’d never do that,” I said fiercely.

She let out a teary laugh. The sound inexplicably tore at me. “You aren’t?”

“Fuck. I deserve that, don’t I? I was an asshole, I’ll admit it.”

“Yes, you were.” She leaned in, bringing us closer, drawing in a deep breath. “Does that mean you won’t be an asshole anymore?”

I nuzzled her neck without thinking about it. I just wanted, needed to be close to her. Less than an hour ago, I’d thought she was dead, and that had gutted me like nothing ever had before. “A tricky question. Assholery is in my DNA and has a penchant of coming out in unfortunate moments. It’s the infamous foot in mouth disease I suffer from.”

Gemma laughed, almost a happy sound. She slid even closer and lifted her face. I could feel her warmth, smell her sweet breath, and the shea butter she always used to moisturize. A very dangerous, very tempting position. And fuck the look on Gemma’s face was gasoline for the fucking fire of my desire for her.

She was sad and scared, and wanted distraction. And fuck, my specialty was distracting girls, give them a good time, make them forget their boyfriends, responsibilities and even annoyance with me. But this was Gemma.

“You hurt me,” she breathed.

“I won’t hurt you like that ever again.”

It was a promise I’d do my fucking best to keep.

She snuggled closer, her fingers splaying out on my hip, her olive eyes wide and hopeful, those kissable lips parted. “I want to forget.”

“Gem, don’t rely on me doing the honorable thing. My moral compass is out of whack, especially with your gorgeous body pressed up to mine.”

It wasn’t even desire that made me want to act on her offer. I just wanted to be with her. Fuck, this was new.

“Kiss me. I want to feel something else than this pain.” She shuddered. “Please, Savio, make me forget.”

Screw it. Who was I to deny her? Cupping her face, I kissed her lightly, fully determined to leave it at a chaste kiss, but Gemma’s scent and the warmth radiating from her was too much for my non-existent self-control. My tongue stroked along her lips, tasting the saltiness of tears, and something sweeter. Unable to resist, I parted her and dipped my tongue into her mouth.

Fuck, even the hints of saltiness didn’t change the fact that she tasted like perfection. Like a goddamn salted caramel toffee. I wanted to devour her whole. My tongue dove in, tasted every corner of that perfect mouth, teased her tongue until she played along. Her fingers dug into my hip and neck, pulling me closer.

I rolled on top of her, settling between her legs, giving her what she wanted. For a moment, she stilled, but then she kissed me even harder.

I slid my hand lower and hooked it under her thigh, lifting one leg over my back so I could bring us even closer, every inch of our bodies flush together. The moment I did, Gemma’s kiss became hesitant, her body tenser, and my senses started returning.

I remembered her words, the promise she gave to her nonna, her convictions. Gemma had told me countless times that she wanted to wait until marriage.

Gemma would hate herself and me, if I took this further. She panted, her chest rising, pressing her breasts against me.

Good Lord, what kind of test was this?

I closed my eyes and released a harsh breath, trying to remain still so my dick didn’t accidentally brush up against her thigh again and blast the last shreds of my resolve.

The moment I opened my eyes, any horny thought fled my mind. Gemma was biting her lower lip, crying. I kissed away the tears. “Is this because of the kissing?”

Gemma looked at me, confused.

“Because you wanted your first kiss in church.” Personally, I thought having your first kiss in front of hundreds of guests was a bad idea, but I didn’t understand the whole chastity thing anyway.

I touched her cheek. “Gem?”

“No,” she said hoarsely. “I just realized that Dad can’t walk me down to the altar.” She started shaking and harsh sobs burst out of her. I rolled off her and pulled her in my arms, rubbing her back.

She cried against my throat, big gasping wails that rocked through her body.

After a few minutes, she quieted and then became soft in my hold. I leaned back and peered down at her tear-stained face. She had fallen asleep. I gently moved away and after pressing a kiss to her forehead, I got out of bed. My shirt was soaked with tears and stained with Gemma’s makeup. I dragged the fabric over my head and dropped it on the ground.

I left my room without a shirt and headed downstairs. Maybe my brother had an update on the Bratva situation.

I ran across Kiara on her way to the kitchen. “Where’s Gemma?”

“In my bed.”

Kiara looked at my naked chest, worried. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with her, Savio. She’s vulnerable after what happened today.”

“Of course not.” I was starting to grow annoyed. “Where are my brothers?”

“Gaming room.”

I left her standing there and headed toward the common area. Like Kiara had said, I found Nino and Remo in the living area, probably going over counterstrikes. They looked my way.

“How’s she?” Nino asked.

“Good.”

Remo raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me—”

“No, I didn’t fuck her for God’s sake!”

“You’ve unleashed your bull in unfortunate situations before,” Remo said.

Ignoring him, I walked over to them and sank down on the sofa. “Gemma is my fiancée.”

Remo shrugged.

My phone beeped with a message from Diego. “Diego’s on his way here.”

Nino nodded, then got up. “Fabiano went ahead to the Sugar Trap. He’s waiting for you and Diego to begin with the Russian. As soon as Diego’s here, you should head there. The sooner we get information out of the Bratva soldier, the better.”

Remo nodded grimly. “I’ll come along as well. Nino will stay here and keep an eye on the women and children.”

“Will you check on Gemma later? She’s asleep.”

Nino narrowed his eyes in thought. “Given her head injury, I don’t think she should sleep.”

“I can wake her,” I said.

Nino shook his head. “I’ll go up there in a few minutes and check on her reflexes and light sensitivity levels.”

The bell at the gate rang. I jogged toward the door and after checking the security camera, I pressed the button so Diego could drive on the premises.

Diego looked a mess when he stepped into the mansion. I could only imagine how his mother had reacted to the news of losing her husband and Nonna. Carlotta was probably still too young to understand the situation. He glanced around. “Where’s Gemma?”

“In my room.”

Without warning, Diego lunged at me, aiming a punch toward my face. I blocked him with my forearm and we both tumbled to the floor. Diego landed on top of me. I tried to shove him off and he punched my cheek. Growling, I bucked my hips, throwing him off and rammed my fists into his stomach, then another uppercut against his chin.

We struggled, but eventually, I knelt over Diego and held him by the collar. He was panting. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man?”

“You are such a bastard. I trusted you with my sister and you don’t hesitate to take her into your bed. She’s broken up over Nonna and Dad, and you use her.”

“Fuck, why does everyone think I’m that much of an asshole?” I released him and staggered to my feet. “I didn’t touch Gemma, you idiot. I respect her and you too much.” I chose not to mention that unfortunate kiss. It would do nothing good.

Diego wiped his bloody mouth. “You didn’t sleep with her?”

I gave him the finger, then held out my hand. “I didn’t, and I won’t until we have the blessing of the holy church.”

Diego allowed me to pull him to his feet then winced and held his ribs. Nino came over and felt them. “Nothing broken.”

Diego looked around before his gaze halted on Remo. “I’m sorry Capo for disrespecting your home.”

Remo waved him off. “You have suffered losses today.” He paused. “But next time you consider starting a fight in my home, remember I have children and nephews that don’t need to see something like that.”

Diego nodded and his shoulders slumped. He looked twice his age. I touched his shoulder. “How are your mother and Carlotta?”

“Carlotta is too young to understand anything. She won’t even remember our father but my mother…” He swallowed and straightened. “We’ll get through this together.”

I gave Remo a look. He tilted his head. “Your father died for our cause, Diego.”

Diego pressed his lips together. I knew him well enough to see he was fighting with himself.

“The Camorra takes care of the families of their soldiers. We will provide for you and your family until your sisters are out of the house.”

Diego shook his head. “That’s a generous offer, but I’m going to provide for my family.”

Diego earned good money as a soldier, especially now that he had started as an Enforcer, but if he intended to take over the restaurants, his share of the Camorra pie would be smaller, not to mention that he had four mouths to feed including himself. And Carlotta’s bills were on another level.

“Pride is an honorable thing, but don’t be stupid,” I growled.

“No,” Diego said firmly. “We can’t accept that much money. We’ll take what every other family would have gotten, not a dollar more.”

“What about Carlotta?” Gemma asked, surprising us all.

She was stealthy, I had to give it to her. Her face was tear-stained, her nose red—which distracted from her kiss-swollen lips.

“I will take care of her,” Diego insisted.

“How?” Gemma stepped up to him. “How are you going to pay for her surgery? Even with Dad, we were hardly getting by, paying all those bills, and now that he’s gone and the money he hid in the restaurant, how are you going to get that much money?”

Diego flushed. “I won’t live on charity.”

“Then don’t. But Carlotta needs that money.” Gemma turned to Remo, but Diego stepped in her way. “No, that’s an order, Gemma. I’m the master of the family.”

Gemma shook her head.

“Gemma could pay for Carlotta’s surgery. As my wife, she has free access to my bank accounts.”

“By the time you want to marry, it’ll be too late for Carlotta,” Diego said.

“We’ll marry in two months. That gives us time to prepare.”

“I thought you needed time to give your bull a few more rides,” Gemma said, her lips twisting. I could already tell that her grudge had returned. The immediate sadness had made her forget my actions, but she hadn’t forgiven me that much was clear.

“My bull’s got enough rides.”

Anger flashed on her face then suspicion. “Two months then, and you pay for Carlotta’s surgery as a wedding gift to me.”

“Deal,” I said.

Diego shook his head.

Remo raised his hand. “Accept it. Your sister needs that heart surgery.”

“Let’s go deal with the Russian,” Diego said simply.

“I should head home to Mom and Carlotta,” Gemma said.

“Nino needs to keep an eye on you for now. Once he’s sure your head’s all right, someone will take you home.”

Gemma glanced at Diego. He gave a small nod.

I moved closer to her. “Will you be all right?” I murmured.

She searched my eyes then nodded. “I have to be. Thanks for consoling me.” A delicate blush stained her cheeks, which Diego didn’t seem to notice, or I would have had his fist in my face again.

I didn’t say anything. All the playful comebacks seemed wrong.

Nino motioned for her to follow him into the infirmary. “Maybe you should take care of your sisters and mother and not seek revenge,” Remo said. “We’ll dish it out in your stead. You have a family to take care of.”

I touched Diego’s shoulder. “I’ll make him pay for you. He’ll regret every second of his pitiful life.”

Diego nodded slowly. “I could never be as good at torture as you anyway.”

“Take care of Gem.”

Remo and I headed for the Sugar Trap to torture the Russian.