Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles Book 5)

I knew Savio thought I’d back out of our deal, but I wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. I wanted to train with him, wanted to show him that I wasn’t a little girl anymore, not a kid whose hair he could tousle.

And yet looking at Remo Falcone made me want to take flight. All those scars and muscles, and his reputation made my pulse pick up. Him covering them with a shirt didn’t make him any less imposing. I had seen a few fights on Toni’s laptop, and all of the Falcones were scary in the cage, but the Capo, he was out of this world brutal. Diego always talked about him like he wasn’t even human.

“How long have you been fighting?” he asked, making me jump. He noticed, mouth twitching, and so had Savio who looked like he was about to start laughing.

I flushed. “Three years.” My gaze lingered around his nose because his eyes scared me too much.

“Not meeting your opponent’s gaze suggests you’re submitting. Are you submitting before the fight has even started, Gemma?” he asked in a low voice.

My eyes snapped up to his. “No.”

It was a struggle holding his gaze. I got why Dad, Diego, and the other men always spoke with so much respect about their Capo.

“Good,” he said. He beckoned me forward. “Attack.”

I took a few steps forward, raising my fists to shield my face. He was too tall. Hitting Diego had already been difficult, but the Capo was even taller. He mirrored my moves, raising his fists up to his face. My stomach was in knots as I tried to gather the courage to hit him.

“Come on, Kitty, show claws,” Savio called.

Remo’s mouth twitched, and I lunged, trying to land a punch in his lower belly. His hand blocked me and that move already hurt like crazy. His other hand went past my defenses and pushed against my stomach. Not a punch, a shove that made me stumble backward and almost lose my balance.

A shove? That wasn’t a move in a cage fight. I glared, angry, and barreled toward him again. I had to use my speed and small body if I wanted any chance. Remo’s smile widened. He tried to grab me, but I dropped to my knees and did a forward roll. I’d planned to use his wide stance to move through his legs, but he grasped one of my ankles and tugged. I landed flat on my back with a gasp, and then he straddled my legs and pressed my wrists together over my head. “Surrender,” he said.

I struggled, trying to get out of his hold.

“Surrender,” he ordered.

I didn’t want to. I was angry at Savio for making me fight his brother, knowing I’d humiliate myself, but I was even angrier at myself for wanting Savio’s attention so badly that I’d agreed to this deal. Remo hadn’t even fought me. He’d toyed with me, just like Savio. This was over so quick it couldn’t be considered a fight. I tried to arch off the ground or free my arms, but his hold was like steel. His fingers tightened, becoming uncomfortable. “You need to know when to surrender.”

“Surrender, Gemma,” Diego called.

I could feel tears of anger rising in my eyes. “No! Neither of you would!”

Remo’s grip on my wrists became painful. “That’s true, but we live with the consequences. You can refuse surrender because you know you’re safe from pain. You’re playing the girl-card.”

“I’m not! You all decide to coddle me because I’m a girl. I don’t mind pain! I want to be taken seriously!” I bit out, struggling harder, tired of being regarded like a cute little kitty.

“Remo,” Nino Falcone said in warning.

I winced under the force of Remo’s grip. “If I tighten my hold further, I’ll snap your thin wrists clean in half. Pride is an honorable thing, but don’t let it get in the way of a wise choice. Your fights will never be ours, so you can’t fight them the same way we do.”

I looked away. “I surrender.”

He released me and got to his feet. Savio and Diego joined us in the cage. Diego gave me a reprimanding look, but Savio nodded as if he was impressed.

“I lost. You don’t have to pretend I did good.” Tears of embarrassment and anger threatened to burst forth, but so far, I’d managed not to cry in front of Savio and I had no intention of changing that. Some girls only cried when they were heartbroken or sad, I wasn’t that lucky. I also bawled when I was angry or exceedingly happy, which led to many embarrassing scenes. Emotionality ran like a curse in our family—at least on the female side. Diego had the emotional range of a brick.

Savio chuckled and exchanged a look with his older brother. Diego rolled his eyes. This was too much. I jumped to my feet and shoved past them, then hoisted myself out of the cage and rushed toward one of the doors, hoping it would lead to a restroom. I needed to splash some water in my face before I lost it… and the remains of my dignity.

I’d wanted to impress Savio with my skills so he’d finally take notice of me, but now they all laughed at me like many did in school because of my clothes and beliefs.

“Gemma, get a grip!” Diego called.

I ignored him. Half the time, he was the reason why I cried anyway. I pushed through the door and into a locker room where I made a beeline for the sink. I splashed water onto my face, sucking in a sharp breath from the cold. It helped with the crying sensation though.

I sank down on one of the benches and stared down at my shabby white sneakers. Diego had worn them when he was eleven. Now it was my turn. The door creaked and steps rang out.

“Leave me alone. I’m not speaking to you anymore. You keep embarrassing me in front of Savio.”

Brand-new stylish black and gold Nike came into view—a limited edition that cost more than Diego’s and my wardrobe together. I wished the ground would swallow me. “That’s what siblings are for, Kitty.”

I wanted him to go away, to spare me the mortification, but even now I craved his closeness. I looked up and his lips twitched. “Why are you here?” The snappiness I was aiming for turned into a hopeful whisper.

Savio’s mouth twitched again, making me self-conscious. “You fought against Remo. Geez, Kitty, most guys would have shit their pants in a cage with Remo, and you showed sass.”

I blinked, trying to figure out if he was pulling my leg. He held out his hand, which I took, and he pulled me to my feet.

“Diego is throwing a hissy-fit. Come on, let’s go back so I can kick his ass.”

“When will you fight me?”

“How about tomorrow?”

Tomorrow was Sunday, which meant church and family dinner, but maybe I could squeeze a session in. But Diego had to help Dad repair our stove in the restaurant. “Diego can’t take me. He’s got to help Dad in the Capri.”

Savio shrugged. “I can pick you up from church and take you back home. I need to work out tomorrow anyway.”

I grinned. “Great.”

His mouth twitched once more. “Maybe you should risk a look into the mirror before you come back out.” With that, he turned and walked through the door.

My stomach tightened in apprehension as I faced the mirror over the sink. I’d put on a hint of mascara and now it was smeared all around my eyes. I looked like a raccoon.

Diego was angry, but I didn’t care. “Dad won’t agree, just so you know.”

“What’s the big deal?”

He tossed me a glare as he pulled his rusty Ford Ranger up in front of our house. The scent of the cigarillos Grandpa had smoked still clung to the leather and ceiling, which was why Nonna refused to use the car—too much grief.

“Really?” he muttered. “The big deal is that you agreed that Savio would pick you up and train with you.”

“So what? He’s your friend.”

“Yeah, he is. I know him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

I scowled. Before Diego had turned the ignition off, I jumped out of the car, grabbing the house keys, and tore toward the front door then locked it. I needed to talk to Dad first if I wanted any chance of getting his approval. Diego would only ruin everything. I ran past Mom who was vacuuming the living room, and into the kitchen from where the scent of Nonna’s famous rabbit stew wafted over to me. I stumbled inside.

Dad sat at the table, bent over bills, judging by the deep frown on his forehead. Nonna stirred the stew with a wooden spoon and sang one of the old Italian love songs that made Mom teary-eyed.

I hurried toward Dad, earning a disapproving cluck from Nonna because I usually greeted her first, but this couldn’t wait.

Dad looked up and I gave him my sweetest smile then wrapped my arms around his neck from the side. The doorbell rang.

He leaned back with a deep laugh. “I know that smile, angelo mio.”

“Dad,” I said softly. “You know how much fight training means to me. And Savio finally agreed to help me. He’s going to practice with me after church tomorrow. Please, let me go.”

The bell rang again, then the vacuum was turned off.

“I need Diego in the Capri tomorrow…”

“I know, but Savio was kind enough to agree to pick me up at church and bring me back home after training.”

Dad shook his head. I hugged him tighter and kissed his cheek. “Please, Dad. You know Savio. I’ll do anything. Pleeeaaassseee.”

Diego’s voice rang out.

I turned to Nonna, which was a sign of how desperate I was. “Nonna, please.”

She pursed her lips. “Alone with a boy.” She clucked her tongue.

“I’ll even go back to the church choir like you want me to.”

Nonna tilted her head then gave a small satisfied nod before she turned back to the stew.

The door swung open and Diego stepped in, seething. “Don’t say yes, Dad.”

Dad lifted a finger. “Not in that tone.”

I poked my tongue out at my brother.

Diego gritted his teeth. “You can’t allow her to be alone with Savio.”

“Diego always spends time with Savio. You know how responsible Diego is. He wouldn’t be friends with Savio, if he wasn’t trustworthy.”

Diego gave me a look that promised retaliation, but he could hardly argue with my reasoning or he’d have to say exactly why Savio was a bad influence and that would mean, he wasn’t allowed to spend time with his best friend either.

“He’s your friend,” Dad said to Diego before he grabbed my chin. “And you, angelo mio, won’t behave in a way that would disappoint your mom or me, right?”

“I just want to become a good fighter.” That, and I wanted Savio to notice me only once.

Diego shook his head and walked over to Nonna to kiss her cheek. “What do you say, Nonna?”

“Gemma wants to return to the church choir.”

I grinned at him and he narrowed his eyes at me. We both knew that Nonna was desperate for me to sing again. Her old-lady friends always asked when the angel-voice would return to the choir.

“Why are you so against Gemma spending time with that Falcone boy?” Nonna asked.

The tips of Diego’s ears turned red. I really wanted to know how he’d managed to stop his face from turning red as well. It was a trick I desperately needed to learn.

“He just doesn’t want to share his friend,” I said.

Dad gently untangled himself from my hold and got up. “I’ll have a talk with Savio before he picks you up.”

“Dad—”

“No,” Dad said firmly, and I snapped my mouth shut, knowing when to retreat. I decided to switch the topic quickly so Dad didn’t reconsider his decision.

“Can Toni come over tonight? I miss her so much.”

“She’s back home?” Mom asked as she stepped into the kitchen.

I nodded. “Came home yesterday.”

Nonna clucked her tongue. “Growing up the way she does, no good will come of that.”

Dad chuckled. “Antonia is a good girl. She can’t help her upbringing.”

Heat washed over me. “Toni’s dad tries to raise her as well as he can.”

“He lets her spend too much time in the Arena. Nothing a girl should see.”

“So, can she come over?”

“Of course,” Dad said.

Nonna frowned, but she wouldn’t argue with Dad, at least not in front of us kids. He was the master of the house. Mom went over to Diego and righted his shirt. He pulled away with a grimace. “Mom, I’m old enough to dress myself.”

“Stop coddling him. He’s a soldier of the Camorra, Claudia.”

Mom sighed. “They grow up too fast.”

Dad walked up to her and kissed her temple then whispered something in her ear that had her swat his chest.

Diego groaned and walked out of the kitchen. I quickly left as well and ran up to my room. I took my secret mobile out of my desk and sent Toni a message.

“You aren’t supposed to have a cell,” Diego said.

I rolled over on my bed. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t tell on me.”

Diego had enough secrets of his own, and while I didn’t know all of them, I did some. Not that I would ever tell on him, no matter how infuriating he could be, and infuriating me was his favorite sport. He came in and closed the door before walking over to me. He perched on my bed. “I won’t. Give it to me.”

“Why?”

He held out his hand. “Give. It. To. Me.”

I clutched the cell against my chest. Sometimes he forgot that I wasn’t his soldier who had to obey his commands. “No.”

Diego grabbed my arms and wrangled the cell out of my hand then unlocked the screen. I shouldn’t have used Savio’s birthday as my password.

I tried to snatch it out of his hand again. If he saw Toni’s last message, she’d die from embarrassment. Unfortunately, Diego was far too strong for me. His eyes scanned the screen and Toni’s message. His eyes widened then his lips curled.

I pinched his arm. “That’s my cell. I deserve some privacy.”

He checked my contacts, only girls from the choir and school then handed my phone back to me.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Toni doesn’t think so,” he said with a self-righteous smile.

My eyes widened. “Don’t say anything to her!”

“About her wanting to see me without a shirt or about her visit from Aunt Flo.”

“Diego! Shut up,” I hissed. “Don’t embarrass her.”

Diego got up. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s bad enough seeing you simper over Savio.”

He walked out with an annoying saunter. Snatching up a pillow, I threw it at him, but it missed and landed on the floor in the hallway. “You dropped something.”

The doorbell rang. I dropped everything and stormed out of the kitchen. Diego was already on his way down the stairs to get the door, but I beat him to it. A grin split my face when I spotted Toni in front of the door. She was dressed in Converse, jeans and a T-shirt. Her long brown hair was completely tousled from riding her bike here. It leaned against the tree in our front yard.

She was tanned from spending the last couple of weeks in Corse with her aunt. I threw my arms around her and hugged her tightly. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too.”

“Don’t tell me you came here on the bike alone,” Diego said, scanning our front yard.

Toni shrugged. “Dad’s got to work. There’s a lot to prepare for the next fight.”

“A girl shouldn’t drive around alone in this city,” Mom said, coming up from behind. She embraced Toni briefly.

We all headed into the kitchen where the table was already set. Dad carried the huge pot of stew over to the table and gave Toni a smile. Only Nonna’s reaction was rather reserved. Not only did she disapprove of Toni’s dad raising her alone, Nonna also disapproved of the fact that Toni wasn’t a full-fledged Italian. Her Grandma had been from Corse, and that came close to a crime in Nonna’s eyes.

“Good evening, Mrs. Bazzoli,” Toni greeted my nonna with a bright smile as usual as she sat down beside me. Toni was good at ignoring other people’s rejection, which was probably why we got along so well. We weren’t really part of the IT-crowd in school.

After dinner, Toni and I headed up to my room and flung us on my bed with the girls’ magazines she’d smuggled into the house in her overnight bag.

“Did you bring the clothes?”

She nodded with a conspiratorial smile. “But you know that I don’t do sports outside of school, so I didn’t have many to choose from.”

“Everything is better than the old baggy clothes from my brother.”

“What was with him? He acted strange around me today.”

I distracted myself with one of the magazines and shrugged, not having the guts to tell Toni that Diego found out about her crush and her period because he was a nosy idiot. “Oh, he’s just angry because I get to train with Savio tomorrow. You know how he is. If he could, he’d put me on a leash.”

Toni nodded. “He’s a bit overbearing, but it means he cares.”

A hint of sadness rang in her voice.

“Your dad loves you, Toni. He’s just very busy trying to make the Arena a success. It’s not easy to earn the respect of the Camorrista considering…”

“Considering we’re not fully Italian.”

“Yeah,” I said, then nudged her and pointed toward the article I’d opened. “How to tell if a boy is into you.”

Toni grinned. “Are you going to use this on Savio tomorrow?”

I giggled. “Maybe.”

“You have to tell me everything in detail.”

“You know there won’t be anything that interesting to tell.”

She rolled her eyes. “You really sure you don’t want to give kissing a chance before marriage?”

I pushed her. “No!”

She giggled. “I would kiss Diego if he made a move.”

“Eeewww! Toni, please, I just ate. I don’t want to imagine you kissing my brother.”

She feigned a dreamy expression. “I’m sure he is a marvelous kisser.”

I tried shoving her off my bed, but she snatched the covers and with a screech, we both landed on the floor.

A knock sounded. “What’s going on here? Some people are trying to sleep,” Diego muttered, dressed in sweatpants and T-Shirt, but his hair was freshly styled and a hint of black jeans peeked out of his pant leg.

“I doubt you’ll get much sleep tonight,” I said, nodding toward his ankle. He followed my gaze then grimaced and quickly hid the black fabric. “You keep your nose out of my business.”

“Why? You have your nose in my business all the time.”

“Which is why I should tell on you,” he said with a nod toward the magazines.

“Goodnight, Diego and tell Savio hi.”

Toni and I exchanged a look and burst into a new wave of giggles. He shook his head slowly then left but didn’t close the door.

I almost rolled my eyes. Overbearing brother as usual. He would probably spend the night partying again. Did he really think I hadn’t noticed? Our rooms were right beside each other and the walls paper-thin.

Savio

It was midday when I pulled up in front of the church. I hadn’t been inside one of these buildings in years, and didn’t really feel any urge to change that. I’d probably go up in flames the second I passed the threshold. With a name like Falcone, my brothers and I had VIP tickets for the antlered bastard’s fiery show anyway.

A crowd had gathered in front of the church and tables with bowls were set up.

The roar of my engine drew many looks and when I got out, most of the men nodded in greeting. This commune consisted mostly of Camorra families, so I knew all the men, and none of the women, which was unusual enough. No matter where I showed up, the risk of meeting a former fuck buddy was always high, not here, however. Remo had made his point perfectly clear regarding me making a move on girls from traditional families and so I stayed away. I preferred my balls attached to my body.

Diego headed over to me at once, looking like a fucking mother-in-law’s delight with a polo-shirt and dress pants. The rest of his family was still immersed in conversation with the priest.

Dark shadows spread under Diego’s eyes. “You look like shit. Long night?” I flashed him a grin. We’d partied until six in the morning, so he couldn’t have gotten more than one hour of sleep before he had to get up for church.

“I need to talk to you.”

I leaned against my Bugatti and cocked one eyebrow. “Am I in trouble?” I asked mockingly.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes. I need to have a word with you before I allow you to spend time with my sister.”

I straightened, narrowing my eyes. “Allow me?” In this city, I didn’t need anyone’s permission to do anything—except for Remo’s.

“I expect you to honor our values and not act inappropriately toward Gemma in any way.”

Was he fucking serious? “All right, Diego, why don’t you go fuck yourself? You really think I’d hit on your thirteen-year-old sister?”

I was going to punch his fucking jaw. He sighed. “No. But it’s my job to protect her and make sure she’s safe. You make fun of our values all the time.”

“Mainly because you are very selective when choosing to live up to your values, or do I have to remind you of last night’s encounter with Dakota? Was she reciting her fucking Hail Mary or why was she kneeling in front of you with your dick in her mouth?”

Diego glanced around with a worried look. “Shhh. I don’t want Nonna or my mother to find out.”

“That you enjoy a nice BJ now and then?” Diego looked around again. I scoffed. “Whatever. Rest assured, I’ll keep my hands to myself around Gemma. Fuck, she’s like a kid sister for me.”

Diego shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. His hypocrisy sometimes drove me up the walls. His father strode over to me, followed by Gemma, who was mostly hidden behind his bulky and tall frame—one Diego had inherited.

Daniele held out his hand and I shook it. He definitely squeezed my hand harder than usual. “I hear you’re going to take Gemma fighting today.”

“I’ll show her a few moves as promised,” I said, trying to keep my sarcasm to a minimum.

Diego tossed me a warning look.

Daniele gave me a tight smile. It was the first time he was anything but friendly to me. Gemma still hovered behind him in her knee-length polka-dotted dress with a fucking bow around the waist and a white collar. There was even a bow in her ponytail.

Fuck, just the thought of hitting on her made my balls shrivel to the size of raisins.

“I trust you keep her safe as Diego would. We appreciate that you and your brothers show respect for our traditions,” Daniele said. The hint of warning rang in his voice, raising my hackles. It took all my meager self-control not to give him a piece of my mind. Nobody threatened my brothers or me.

“Don’t worry, Daniele. Gemma will be the safest girl in Vegas when she’s with me. I’ll protect her like a little sister.”

Gemma’s lips pinched.

Daniele nodded, satisfied. Then he led Gemma toward my car with a protective hand on her back. Her eyes grew wide when she spotted my copper Bugatti. It was a favorite with the ladies. I took her gym bag from Daniele, dropped it in my small trunk, and walked toward the driver’s side.

Daniele sent me another meaningful look before he closed the door. I resisted the urge to floor the gas and take off with spinning tires. Instead I pulled away from the curb slowly. Gemma waved at her family, beaming like the kid that she was.

Diego was a fucking idiot.

Gemma folded her hands in her lap, then darted her eyes to me. Slowly she turned red. She squirmed in her seat, looking like she was about to have a difficult math test.

“You okay?”

She jumped. “Oh yes, sorry. It’s just…”

“Just?” I twisted toward her when we stopped at a red light.

“This is the first time I’m alone with a boy who isn’t family.”

The light turned green and I hit the gas, making Gemma’s eyes widen. “You’ve known me for years. I’m practically family.”

She didn’t look happy about that. “I’m not your sister, you know?”

I chuckled. “I’m aware of that, yes.”

Silence descended on us. I turned the music on, my favorite playlist. The pounding bass of “Candy Shop” by 50 Cent filled the car. I drummed my fingers in rhythm to the sound.

Gemma frowned. “This song doesn’t make sense. Why does a rapper sing about lollipops and rodeos?”

“That’s a euphemism for a BJ.” I closed my mouth. Fuck, that’s probably not something I should have said.

Gemma stared at me with wide curious eyes. “What’s a BJ?”

I focused on the street, trying to come up with a semi-appropriate reply, but chastity wasn’t really my forte. “Forget it.”

If she asked Diego about it, he’d kick my ass. Maybe I should send her Dakota’s way. She had explained a BJ to Diego after all.

The rest of the drive passed in silence because my playlist wasn’t made for choir girl ears, but I could see Gemma still mulling over the song.

I led her into our gym and nodded toward the door of the locker room. “Why don’t you go change?”

Gemma nodded eagerly and dashed off.

I shook my head at her enthusiasm. I was already in gym clothes, so I had time to prepare my boxing gloves. Usually I preferred to fight with taped hands, because punches were harder that way. Yet, with a girl, I needed to make sure not to hurt her. I bandaged my fists anyway for our training at the boxing sack when Gemma emerged from the locker room.

I paused. Gemma wasn’t wearing the gym clothes she usually had—no washed out, too big sweatpants and baggy T-shirt. This time she wore one of those Gymshark workout outfits all the fitness tubers went crazy about. Tight purple tank top and tight leggings in the same color. Only the fitspo girls filled out those clothes. Gemma only managed to emphasize her non-existent curves.

Fuck. I knew why she had chosen that outfit, and I knew that neither Diego nor her father would approve of it.

She stopped right in front of me, her cheeks already bright red. It was obvious why. Of course, I’d seen her watching me before, but it always seemed funny. Now alone with her and knowing how crazy Diego was regarding his sister, the thing felt like a catastrophe in the making.

Crushing girls’ hearts was practically my special skill set, but knowing I had to break Kitty’s innocent little heart actually caused me a flicker of qualms.

She peered up at me like a lovesick puppy. I wondered how she imagined this day to go in her choir girl fantasies. From what Diego had mentioned, Gemma hadn’t even had the talk yet and her questions in the car had confirmed that. She probably thought all girls and boys did when they were alone was take a stroll over daffodil meadows.

Thank fuck, I’d at least chosen to wear a shirt today.

“Let’s start with our warm-up,” I said. She dropped her pink boxing gloves, waiting expectantly. “Double-unders. Ever done them?”

“I can’t do more than one or two,” she admitted.

“We’ll change that.” I handed her a jump rope then took one for myself. “Watch how I do it.” I walked a few steps back and began jumping. Simple rope jumps at first until I sped up and switched to double-unders. Just for fun, I did a couple triple-unders, but they were difficult to maintain, so I switched back to double-unders again. Gemma watched me slack-jawed.

I stopped. “Your turn.”

She looked ready to pass out from nervousness, so it really didn’t come as a surprise that she got tangled in the rope after only two jumps. Flushing, she quickly tried again, but her legs got entangled once again. “I’m sorry!”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” She was about to try again, but with the way her hands were shaking that would end the same way. I lightly touched her arm, stopping her. Her eyes flew up to mine, stunned. I could see goose-bumps spreading on her skin.

I pulled my hand away. “Don’t look at the ground while you’re jumping. Stare straight ahead, and only use your feet to push off the ground not your calves, that takes too much energy.”

“O-okay,” she stammered.

Gemma had never been this nervous around me. Being alone with me really threw her off. It almost made me feel sorry for her, but mostly I had to stop myself from laughing. “Give it a try and focus.”

She nodded, determination crossing her face. This time she managed to establish a good rhythm.

“Now, try to do a double-under.”

She did but didn’t jump high enough nor spin the rope fast enough. I explained what she had to change and eventually she managed to do three double-unders in a row. “This is something you need to practice over and over again. It’s not something that comes easy.”

She nodded obediently. “Can we fight now?”

I chuckled. “Sure.” I motioned toward the boxing ring and led her toward it. Grabbing her boxing gloves, she climbed through the ropes I parted for her. I swung myself over them and landed with a low thud inside the ring.

Again the admiration. I really needed to tone it down around Kitty.

I helped her put on her gloves, ignoring the way she blushed at our closeness. Then I put on my own gloves and faced her. I let her do high kicks against my palms for a while before I began sparring, but it became obvious pretty quickly that Gemma wasn’t focused on fighting, too distracted by my closeness. I stepped back with a shake of my head. “This isn’t working.”

She froze.

Here we go. I needed to establish ground rules if this was supposed to work the next few months. I’d given Diego and his father my word to protect Gemma, even if that required crushing her heart. “Listen, Gemma, I agreed to train with you but right now you aren’t fighting, you’re daydreaming.”

“I’m… I’m not,” she whispered lamely.

“You are,” I said firmly. “I know you’ve got a crush on me, but if you want to keep training with me, you’ll have to stop it. Either you focus on fighting or we won’t work out together again.”

Her face was bright red and fuck it, her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. If I brought her back to the Bazzoli house with red eyes, that would go over fucking well. Still, I needed to drill the message into her head.

“But you promised…”

“I promised to fight with you, yes. Right now, this doesn’t feel like training. You need to get a grip. You are a little kid, not to mention Diego’s sister. I like grown women, not little girls.” The last might have been a tad cruel, but maybe that would finally make her stop the fawning.

She whirled around and climbed out of the boxing ring, then tried to rush toward the locker room. Unfortunately, she stumbled in her haste and fell to her knees, then she didn’t move.

Fuck. I jumped out of the ring and stalked toward her, then squatted in front of her.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

She gave a jerky shake of her head, her face lowered and tiny shoulders shaking.

Crying girls usually made me take off as quickly as I could, but this was Diego’s little sister. “Don’t cry.”

“I feel stupid,” she said thickly. “I know you have all these pretty girls…”

“You are pretty too, but you are way too young, Gemma. Your dad and brother would kill me, as they should. How about we forget today, and I promise to keep training with you if you swear to forget about your crush on me until you’re older.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, looking up hopefully.

“Do we have a deal?”

She nodded. “Deal.” Then she tilted her head in contemplation. “How much older?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Much older.”

“Like fourteen?”

I shook my head again. “Older.”

“Fifteen?”

“Definitely older.”

She pursed her lips. “Sixteen?”

I straightened and held out my hand. She took it so I could pull her to her feet. “Older.”

“But by then, you’ll already be married to another girl!”

I burst out laughing. Oh, Kitty was too hilarious. “Don’t worry, I’m never going to marry.”

“Never?” she whispered.

“Never.”

“Oh.”

Nino shook his head again. “Are you sure about this?” His hand with the tattoo needle hovered about an inch over my pelvis.

I rolled my eyes at my brother. “If you ask one more time, I’ll go into one of the tattoo studios on the Strip and get it there.”

Nino’s expression flashed with disapproval—of the studios that didn’t do a good enough job in his opinion, which was the reason why he’d done most of his tattoos himself, and of my choice of tattoo.

A bull’s head, or rather a Minotaur’s head right above my dick. It was as much a joke as provocation. My man-slut reputation was already indisputable, might as well have fun with it.

The needle pierced my skin and Nino finally started his work. “I hope you don’t come to regret this image.”

“From all the things we’re doing on a daily basis—torture, killing, prostitution, death fights—you really think I’m going to regret a bull tattoo?” I flashed him a grin and earned an uncomprehending look.

Out of my brothers, I really was the sanest, which didn’t say much.

“I can’t see what one has to do with the other,” Nino drawled as he kept outlining the Minotaur. “And you can choose to stop any of the mentioned activities. That tattoo is permanent unless you have it removed, but that’s going to be difficult, given the depth of the ink to assure the deep black color, and the size of the tattoo.”

“If I stop doing those things, how am I going to be of use for the Camorra? Adamo’s already pretty useless. You and Remo can’t have another one of us suffer from exaggerated scruples.”

Nino glanced up briefly. “Would you prefer not to be involved in the unsavory parts of our business? So far you never gave any indication that torturing or killing bothered you.”

It had bothered me in the beginning. Unlike Remo and Nino, I was capable of empathy and pity to begin with and had to learn toning both down. It hadn’t taken long. Our fight for power in Las Vegas had wiped away most of my innocence quickly. I enjoyed many of our activities, but I’d never be as good as torture as Nino and Remo.

“It doesn’t,” I said simply.

Nino regarded me a moment longer, but I’d learned to hide my emotions and thoughts over time, even if I rarely bothered to do it.

Nino was almost done with the tattoo when the door opened, and Remo walked in.

“Unless you want to see Savio’s cock, you should stay in the hallway,” he said.

“How much longer will it take? Dinner’s almost done,” Kiara shouted from a distance away.

I smirked. “Your husband enjoys the sight of my crown jewels. He’s taking his time.”

Nino let out a sigh, but Remo showed the hint of a smile as he inspected my tattoo. None of us were bothered by each other’s nakedness. We’d fucked around each other for years before Kiara’s presence led to a sex ban in the common areas of the house.

“All right. I’m heading back down to the kitchen,” Kiara called.

“Don’t show your dick to my wife,” Nino warned.

I chuckled. “Only if she asks to see it.”

“You really think that’s going to impress women,” Remo said, with a sharp nod toward my tattoo.

“It’s not meant to impress. It’s a warning,” I said. The reactions of my brothers made this tattoo already a good choice. “And since when do you know how to impress women?”

“It’s a waste of time.”

I shrugged. “I don’t waste my time on women. Either a girl’s an easy lay or I don’t bother.”