Twisted Pride: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3)

As far as patients went, Remo was a nightmare. He was a nightmare in many other regards as well, but giving his body time to heal wasn’t on his agenda.

Nino wasn’t happy about it. “You need to rest, Remo. It’s been only three days and you’re already running around.”

“I’ve had worse. Now stop the fucking fussing. I’m not a child.”

“Maybe not. But I’m obviously the only one of the two of us capable of sane decisions.”

“Neither of you is sane. Now help me with this fucking crib,” Savio muttered.

I leaned in the doorway of the future nursery. Nino and Kiara had gone shopping this morning, and now the four Falcone brothers were trying to put together the furniture. Though Nino and Savio were doing all the work because Adamo’s arm was in a cast and most of Remo’s body was bandaged, not to mention the many broken bones in his body.

Adamo sat on a plush baby blue armchair, which sat close to the window. Sometimes when he thought no one was looking, his eyes twisted with something dark, something haunted. Some wounds would take a long time to heal. Remo leaned against the windowsill, wearing only low cut sweatpants, barking orders.

A smile tugged at my lips.

“The instructions are quite clear, Remo,” Nino drawled. “I don’t need your orders on top of that.”

Savio scoffed. “As if that’ll stop him.”

It was still difficult to grasp what had happened these last three days. I’d left my family, Samuel, to live in Las Vegas with the man who kidnapped me and his family who helped him do it. But with every passing hour, I realized it had been the right decision for my children and maybe even for me. The moment Remo saw his babies, a knot in my chest loosened, a knot that had strangled me since he released me, only to be pulled tighter when Greta and Nevio were born. They belonged here.

I had tried to keep my distance from Remo so far, only visited him twice so our twins could get used to his presence, and I knew he wasn’t happy with it.

Remo spotted me in the doorway, his eyes becoming more eager and intent. My pulse picked up, and I turned around to return to Nevio and Greta who were waiting downstairs with Kiara.

Remo cornered me in the hallway. For someone with his injuries, he was annoyingly fast. “Are you running from me, Angel?” He backed me into the wall, his palms on either side of me.

“I’ve learned that doesn’t work. You always catch me,” I said, leaning back because with him so close I was having trouble focusing.

“I often imagined how it would be to see you again,” he said in a low voice. “But this wasn’t one of the scenarios I came up with.”

I regarded him. “When you sent me off like a thing easy to dispose of, it didn’t seem like you wanted to see me again.”

He shook his head, anger flashing on his face. “I gave you a choice, one you didn’t have before … and you chose to stay with the Outfit.”

I huffed. “That’s ridiculous. You traded me like a piece of cattle. Why would I return to you? I’m not in the habit of thrusting myself upon someone who obviously couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

Remo leaned even closer. “Did you really believe that I didn’t want you? Or did you tell yourself that because you didn’t want to leave your family?”

I frowned. “You could have …”

“What?” he growled. “I could have what? Kidnapped you again? Asked Dante to send you back?”

He had a point and it annoyed me.

“When were you planning on telling me about our babies? Would you have told me at all if Adamo hadn’t gotten himself captured?”

“You sent me away, back to my fiancé. I didn’t think you’d care what happened with me, much less wanted kids,” I muttered, but something in his eyes made me continue. “I wanted to tell you. The moment I saw them, I knew I needed to tell you, but I didn’t know how. I was … a coward.”

His hand came up, cupping my cheek, his dark eyes impossibly possessive. “I was sure you’d return to me.” His lips brushed mine. “You aren’t a coward. You saved me. You went against your family to protect our children. You gave up everything for them … and for me.”

I deepened the kiss, couldn’t keep the distance I so desperately wanted to keep. Remo’s lips, his tongue, the feel of his rough palm against my cheek awakened a deep longing, a desperate need I’d kept buried since he’d set me free.

My core tightened as his familiar manly scent flooded my nose, and memories of how Remo’s hands, his mouth, his cock had felt came to the surface …

I drew back, coming to my senses, and slipped out from under Remo’s arm. He gave me a knowing smile before I hurried away. But I had seen the proof of his body’s reaction to me in the bulge of his sweatpants.

Only one week until Christmas. The mansion was decorated beautifully with red baubles, golden tinsel, and sprigs of mistletoe. Luckily Greta and Nevio weren’t mobile yet or the greenery would have had to go.  I’d sent Samuel a few messages, telling him I was safe and asking if he was okay. He hadn’t replied yet but I knew he’d read the messages. Maybe his hurt was still too fresh. Five days weren’t enough to come to terms with the fact that your sister betrayed you for a man you hated more than anything in the world. My messages to Mom and Sofia hadn’t even been received. I suspected Dad had gotten new phones for them so I couldn’t contact them.

I approached Kiara as she stirred a new batch of baby food, a sweet potato puree. “Do you get Christmas presents for each other?”

Nino had given me a credit card from one of the Falcone bank accounts yesterday, and while I’d wanted to decline at first, I took the card. Remo seemed determined to make sure I had everything I needed. Still, it felt a bit odd to use their own money to buy them presents, but it wasn’t as if I could access my family’s accounts anymore.

“Well, last year was still a bit of a Christmas trial. Nino and his brothers still need to get used to a female touch in their life, but I got them gifts, and a few days after Christmas I got gifts from them as well.” She laughed. “I think this year they might have gifts on time.”

“I don’t know what to get any of them. I don’t know them well enough, and I don’t really feel like part of this family yet …”

She touched my shoulder. “But you are, Serafina. It’s a strange situation for all of us, but it’s the best thing that could have happened, especially for Remo.”

“You think?” I whispered.

“I know it,” she said firmly. “How are things between you?”

“I’m trying to keep my distance. I’m scared of allowing too much closeness too fast.”

“But you want to be with him?”

I laughed. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

“He won’t force you.”

“That’s not what I mean,” I said quietly. “I don’t think my heart or my body will leave me a choice.”

She nodded, understanding filling her face. “I’m so happy for the both of you, the four of you.”

“Do you think Remo’s capable of … love?”

Kiara looked thoughtful. “He and Nino went through horrible things as children. It formed them into the men they are today. It still affects them. I’m not sure what it did to Remo. If parts of him were irrevocably destroyed …”

I didn’t ask what kind of horrors lay in Remo’s past. Kiara would have told me if she thought it was her place to share. If I wanted to find out, I’d have to ask him.

“If you want to go Christmas shopping, we can go together tomorrow. Fabiano could guard us.”

“That would be nice,” I said.

Despite Nino’s words of protest, Remo came down for dinner that evening, and we all settled around the dining room table. Greta and Nevio were in their new high chairs between Kiara and me. I had taken over the job of trying to wrangle food into Nevio’s mouth since Greta seemed to do well around Kiara. I could feel Remo’s eyes on us the entire time with an expression I could only describe as longing. My food was getting cold anyway, so I decided to give him a chance to be a real dad.

“Why don’t you give this a try?” I asked Remo. I wasn’t sure if he was interested in feeding or if he was like some fathers whose interest in their children ended when it required them to do something.

Everyone paused what they were doing for a moment. Remo put down his fork and stood. His movements were still stiff, not just because of the bandages; it would take some time for his broken bones and bruises to heal. I gave him my chair, took my plate, and settled into the place he’d vacated. Nevio was making grabby motions, but the spoon and bowl were out of his reach. I could tell that he was getting frustrated with the situation and a hissy fit was fast approaching.

Remo took the spoon and lifted it toward Nevio’s face, but he didn’t restrain his arms. Before I could warn him, Nevio snatched at the spoon and catapulted sweet potato puree through the room. Most of it landed square on Remo’s shirt. The rest in Nino’s face.

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop laughter.

Kiara didn’t show the same restraint. She burst out laughing. Nino wiped his face with a napkin, his eyes on his laughing wife—and softer than I’d ever seen them.

Nevio rocked excitedly in his chair, a toothless grin on his face. Remo glanced down at himself, then at his son, and his lips twitched. This time he took Nevio’s hands in his big one before he brought the spoon toward his mouth. Nevio pressed his lips together, obviously unhappy about the situation.

“This reminds me of you, Adamo,” Remo said.

Adamo grimaced.

Nino nodded. “You always made a mess during feeding as well.”

“If we start exchanging baby stories, I’m out,” Savio muttered.

Remo turned back to Nevio and nudged his lips with the spoon. “Come on, Nevio.”

I stood and got on my haunches beside Nevio’s high chair. “Come on, Nevio, show your dad how well you can eat.”

Remo looked down at me, his expression stilling when I called him ‘dad.’ After a moment of hesitation, Nevio finally allowed Remo to put the spoon in his mouth.

I smiled, straightened to my feet, and pressed a kiss on Nevio’s head. Then I leaned over Greta and did the same. She smiled at me with the spoon in her mouth, and my heart just exploded with gratefulness. I caught Remo’s eyes but quickly glanced away because the look in his threatened to crush my resolve to keep my distance.

After bringing the twins to bed, I grabbed my phone and headed for Remo’s bedroom. Nino had practically dragged him there so he could lie down and rest.

I knocked.

“Come in, Angel.”

Frowning, I entered. “How did you know?”

He regarded me with an expression that sent a little shiver down my spine. “Because my brothers don’t knock, they barge in, and Kiara usually stays away from my bedroom.”

I nodded, my hand still on the door, debating if I should leave it open just to be safe.

Remo smiled knowingly. “I’m practically bedridden. No reason to be worried. I won’t attack you.”

Bedridden. As if. That man couldn’t be broken easily. I closed the door. I wasn’t worried about Remo making a move. I was worried I’d throw caution in the wind and do what I’d been dreaming of forever. “As if that would stop you.”

Remo didn’t say anything.

I held up my phone. “I thought you’d like to see photos of Nevio and Greta.”

“I’d like that,” Remo said, moving to the side so there was room beside him on the bed. I eyed the spot then Remo leaning against the headrest with his naked upper body. Even the bandages didn’t make Remo any less attractive.

Trying to hide my thoughts, I strolled over to him casually and sank down beside him, legs stretched out before me. Remo’s eyes lingered on them. I was wearing a dress and no tights because it was surprisingly warm in the house. Goose bumps rippled across my skin. I cleared my throat and clicked on the first photo, which Mom had taken shortly after I’d given birth to the twins. I held them in my arms and looked down at them with an exhausted yet adoring expression.

Remo leaned in and his arm brushed mine. Despite the material of my dress between us, a tingle shot through me at the brief contact.

“You look pale in the photo,” he said quietly.

“After twenty-two hours of labor everyone does.”

Remo’s dark eyes flickered with a hint of wistfulness.

“I wish you could have been there…if I’d known what I know today, I would have come to Vegas sooner. I’m sorry I took that away from you.”

Remo cupped my chin and I tensed because he looked like he was going to kiss me. “Regret over the past is wasted energy. We can’t change the past, no matter how much we want to do it.”

“What would you want to change?” I asked, trying to ignore the feel of Remo’s touch.

He shook his head with a dark smile. “Not your kidnapping. I don’t feel an ounce of regret about stealing you.”

“You don’t?” I frowned, pulling back slightly but Remo leaned in, fingers still on my chin.

“Not one fucking bit. I’d kidnap you again to be the one you gift yourself to. You could have never been mine if I hadn’t stolen you.”

I didn’t argue, neither about me being his, nor about the fact that without the kidnapping we would have never found together.

“What about you?” Remo murmured. “Do you regret becoming mine?”

“No,” I admitted, and finally drew back from his touch. “Not that. I just wish it wouldn’t have cost my family so much.”

Remo nodded and settled back against the headrest. “Hardly anything worth having can be gained without loss and pain and sacrifice.”

My eyes trailed over his wounds and bruises. He’d sacrificed himself for his brother. But I had a feeling it wasn’t the only reason why he’d allowed my family to capture and torture him. He’d accepted pain, maybe even losing his life, for a chance to see me again.

I cleared my throat and clicked on the next photo. The first photo of Nevio and Greta lying in a crib beside each other.

I showed him photo after photo, neither of us saying anything. It was difficult to focus on anything but Remo’s warmth, his scent, the strength and power he oozed.

When I finally shut off my phone, my body was humming with need. I met his gaze, which rested unabashedly on me. Remo regarded me with an expression I knew too well. Hunger and dominance. He touched my bare knee.

I exhaled.

His hand slipped slowly up between my legs. “Remo,” I warned, but he held my gaze, his lips pulling wider.

“Have you let anyone touch what’s mine?”

I glared, but my body screamed for more. For Remo’s touch, for his lips.

He knew the answer, could see it on my face. “No,” he said quietly. “All of you is only mine.”

“You set me free, remember? I belong to myself.”

We both knew it was a lie. I’d never been free of his hold on me, but he, too, had lost his freedom. His hand slipped higher until finally he brushed over the fabric of my panties. They were drenched, just from being in his presence.

Remo groaned, low and dark, and my resolve crumpled. His thumb drew small circles on my crotch, and I could feel myself growing even more aroused. Remo’s dark eyes held mine, and as usual I couldn’t look away. His thumb pushed under my panties and between my folds, spreading my wetness. I whimpered from the contact, skin on skin. So good, so desperately needed. He drew small circles on my clit, round and round and round. I parted my legs a bit more and gripped the sheets, needing something to hold on to as I stared at Remo. His gaze possessed me like it always did.

“Are you going to come, Angel?”

I gave a small nod. It had been too long. I was falling apart so quickly. He didn’t speed up the pace as his other hand pushed up my dress so he could see his finger working me. Round and round. “Part your legs more,” he growled, and I did.

He slipped between my folds again, spreading my wetness some more. “I want to fuck you so badly.”

“You’re still healing,” I rasped. His broken bones needed to mend. One of us needed to be the voice of reason, even if my body hated me for it.

He sat up stiffly. “Straddle me with your ass facing me.”

“What?”

“Do it,” he ordered.

I didn’t question him, could barely think straight from the throbbing between my legs. I pushed up and climbed over Remo, careful not to ram my knees into his ribs. My palms rested beside his knees as I knelt over him, my ass pushing out. Remo lifted up my dress until I was exposed and my core tightened in anticipation. “Fuck,” Remo murmured, causing me to shiver again.

I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my back arching at the delicious sensation of my walls gripping him. Remo let out a low groan, and I almost came hearing it. I could see the proof of his own need straining against his sweatpants.

“The sight of your pussy taking my fingers is the fucking best.”

I whimpered in response and began to meet his thrusts, needing his fingers deeper, faster, harder.

“Yes, Angel, take them,” he rasped.

More wetness pooled between my legs. I threw a glance over my shoulder. Remo was focused on his fingers as they fucked me, his dark eyes burning with so much desire it stole my breath. I shuddered with pleasure. He glanced up, his lips curling in a pleased smile.

“Come on, Angel. Fuck my fingers.” Remo added a third finger and my eyes rolled back in my head at the sensation.

I ground myself against Remo’s hand, driving his fingers deeper into me. He watched me intently and his other hand began massaging my butt. I wanted to grasp his erection, but I could hardly support myself with two arms, already spinning out of control. He gathered my wetness with the fingers of his other hand, and then I felt one finger against my back entrance. I tensed but didn’t stop riding Remo’s fingers.

“Relax,” Remo ordered, his eyes compelling. “It’ll be good.”

Anxious and excited, I gave a small nod. Slowly he pushed a finger into me. “Oh God,” I gasped as I felt his fingers in both my openings. There was a slight discomfort, but it didn’t stand a chance against the pleasure Remo’s fingers in my center caused.

Remo established a gentle rhythm with his finger while I kept grinding myself against his other hand. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he worked my body, and I could feel the first traitorous spasm of my orgasm. My pussy clenched around his fingers. I moaned, the sensations overwhelming. I felt a second finger at my back entrance and tensed again. Remo stroked my butt cheek, and as I drove his fingers deep into me he curled them and hit my g-spot. I came hard, crying out desperately, and he pushed the second finger into my back entrance. I gasped from the pain and my orgasm heightened in force. I shuddered, caught between intense pleasure and dull pain. My arms gave way, and I braced myself on my forearms. Remo kept thrusting.

“Yes, Angel, I told you I’d show you pain and pleasure.”

Half lowered onto him, I could feel his erection digging into my belly. He groaned again, almost in agony. I was completely overwhelmed, stunned, and a little embarrassed. I’d never considered allowing someone to go anywhere near my ass. Of course Remo wanted that part of me as well.

Remo pulled out of me slowly, and I gasped. His hands came down on my ass cheeks, and he massaged me gently. “If I died now, it would be worth it.”

I huffed. “You won’t die today. I won’t explain that to Nino. No thank you.”

Remo chuckled and the sound sent a different kind of shiver through my body. I loved the sound of Remo laughing, especially if it was earnest.

I pushed myself up then knelt beside Remo. He curled his hand over my neck and pulled me toward him for a slow kiss. When he drew back, his eyes searched my face. I knew my cheeks were flushed, not just from my orgasm but also from embarrassment.

“There’s so much pleasure I still want to show you,” Remo murmured, tracing his lips over my jaw and cheek.

He dropped his head back against the headboard, sighing as he reached for a glass filled with dark liquid on his nightstand.

I recognized the scent immediately. “Scotch, really?”

“It’ll help with the healing, trust me. I’ve done a lot of research in the past.”

I shook my head.

“And,” he added, with a challenging smile, “it seems to be the only pleasure I’m allowed today.” He took a sip.

My eyes darted down to the impressive bulge in his pants. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to render him into a helpless mess of desire as he did with me.

“Trying to decide if you’re brave enough?”

I glowered. “I’ve given you a blowjob before.”

His mouth twitched. “You tried, but you didn’t finish, so it doesn’t count.”

I knew he was trying to goad me. Unfortunately, it was working.

I moved down until I knelt beside his groin. Remo reached for his pants and pulled them down, wincing as he did so.

“Quite eager, aren’t you?” I teased.

He smiled but it was dark and hungry, and his body was tense. I lowered my head and took his tip into my mouth. Remo moaned, his fingers tangling in my hair. I swirled my tongue around him, and my own core tightened with renewed need. Remo’s breathing deepened, his muscles tensing as he watched me.

“Take more of me,” Remo ordered quietly, and I did. I let him claim my mouth until he hit the back of my throat. He thrust into me slowly, his hand in my hair keeping me in place. He held my gaze as I let him claim my mouth. His other hand cupped my cheek. Remo. Brutality and tenderness. I still didn’t understand him or us.

Remo’s body coiled tighter, his hips jerking up with less control, lips parting in a low moan.

“I’m going to come,” he rasped. I saw the question in his expression, and my heart swelled with affection … and God help me … love.

I gave a small nod around his head before he drove deeper into my mouth again, and his grip on my neck became firmer. His face twisted with passion, his eyes almost harsh with lust as he tensed and came with a sharp exhale. I had trouble swallowing around his length, and Remo loosened his hold on my neck so I could pull back slightly. He kept rocking his hips, his breathing harsh.

Remo’s gaze laid claim to another part of me, possessive and warm, as he stroked my cheek. I slowly released his cock from my lips and swallowed, frowning at the taste. Remo drew me toward him, brushed my lips with his, and handed me his glass with scotch. I took a sip and coughed. That tasted even worse.

“You’ll get used to the taste,” he said with a small laugh.

“The scotch or your …?”

He gripped my arms and wrenched me against him so I was cradled against his chest. I caught the wince but then it was gone. “My cum,” he murmured as he licked my lips then dove into my mouth. Our kiss was slow, almost teasing, until it wasn’t. It became needy and eager.

He positioned me so one of my legs was thrown over his groin, my head against his shoulder. His hand parted me then his fingers slid over my drenched panties. He pushed the fabric aside and slowly pushed two fingers into me. His other hand began pinching and twirling my nipple. He played me masterfully with his fingers as I lay draped over him.  We kissed softly, our eyes locked the entire time, until a new wave of pleasure shot through me.

I’d barely caught my breath when Greta’s cry rang out.

I sighed with a small smile.

“Perfect timing,” he murmured, giving me another lingering kiss. I quickly slid out of bed and rushed into the bathroom to wash my hands before I returned to the bedroom. Remo stood beside the door, waiting for me.

“You should stay in bed and rest,” I said.

“I should help you with our children.”

His voice didn’t allow any objections, and I had to stifle a pleased smile. By the time we arrived in the nursery, Nevio had started crying as well. I took Greta because she didn’t know Remo well enough. Remo lifted Nevio out of the crib without hesitation and pressed him to his chest. It was obvious that he’d held a baby before, that he knew how to handle them. I took a whiff. “New diapers.”

Remo carried Nevio over to the changing table and began his work. I watched him for a moment longer, my body flooding with so many hormones, I could feel the waterworks beginning. I blinked and looked away. “I’ll go into the kitchen and prepare their bottles.”

Remo glanced up, his gaze lingering on my eyes, then nodded.

When I returned ten minutes later, Nevio was already dressed and resting in Remo’s arm. I handed him a bottle, and he sank down in the armchair, wincing again. He was moving more stiffly than before, probably from overexertion.

I changed Greta’s diaper before I settled on the armrest beside Remo and started feeding her. “This is strange,” I whispered after a moment.

Remo frowned. “It’s not what I imagined when I kidnapped you.”

I searched his face, trying to figure out what this meant to him, what I really meant to him, but I didn’t dare ask. I knew it was futile to stay away from Remo, not only because my body was already calling for his touch again but also because my heart yearned for his closeness.

After they had fallen back asleep, I was on my way toward my room when Remo gripped my wrist, stopping me. “Stay with me.”

I nodded and allowed Remo to pull me back to his bedroom, where I put one of his shirts on before slipping under the covers. Remo pulled me against him, wincing as I touched his bruises. “You’re in pain,” I protested, trying to put distance between us, but Remo tightened his hold on me.

“Fuck the pain. I want you in my arms.”

I stilled and finally relaxed against him, my cheek pressed up to his strong chest. This felt too good to be true.