Twisted Loyalties: Chapter 22

I practically ran back home, my heart beating in my throat in anger and hurt. I couldn’t believe what he’d said to me. Had he really meant it?

I was breathless when I arrived at the apartment. I unlocked the door, and froze on my way to my bedroom. Grunting and moans were coming from my father’s bedroom. Was my mother already using it for work? He hadn’t been dead for more than twenty-four hours and she had moved on.

I hammered against the bedroom door until she finally opened it, dressed in a bathrobe, nothing beneath it.

“Leona?”

A hairy man, at least seventy, was sprawled on the bed completely naked. I whirled around and stormed into the kitchen where I gripped the counter in a death grip.

Tears burned in my eyes.

I could hear Mom’s shuffling behind me. “Did you return because of that man? He seemed really intent on finding you. Looks like you really got under his skin,” Mom said as she stopped beside me. I had a hard time ignoring her skinny nakedness.

The only way to get under Fabiano’s skin was with a knife. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that my mother took Fabiano’s possessiveness as a sign of him caring for me. She’d had a habit of making that mistake with her past boyfriends. “He didn’t let me leave. I didn’t want to return.”

“Perhaps it’s for the best.”

I searched her face. “You told him I went to the bus station, right?”

She finally closed her bathrobe. “I think he really cares about you.”

“What did he do? Did he threaten you?”

She looked embarrassed.

“He gave you what? Money? Drugs?”

“He promised to give me meth now and then. For free, Leona. But I wouldn’t have told him anything if I didn’t think he meant well.”

Mom touched my hand. “It’s not a bad thing to be with someone like him, especially if he is good to you. He holds power. He can protect you. What’s so bad about being with him?”

“Mom, Fabiano killed Dad, don’t you remember?”

Mom’s hand tightened on mine. “I do remember. But I also remember the first time I had to sell my body back when we lived in San Antonio and your father owed one of the local MCs money. He asked me to help him but behind my back he had already told their president I would spread my legs to pay off his debt. You were only a baby and I was still recovering from giving birth to you. Five of them. I had to sleep with five of them. Had to bear their filthy hands everywhere. They took more than was agreed on. And it was fucking painful, but you know what? Afterward, your father asked if I would now fuck him too. I hated him. But he promised it was only this once. It wasn’t. Next time he owed money, I had to do it again, and that time they gave me meth, and I took it because it made me forget. So yes, I remember that Fabiano killed your father and I am thankful. On the street they told me what happened to him and all I could think was that I wished I could have been there to see it because he destroyed me, and because of it I was never there for you. I was a horrible mother.”

I was speechless.

“Your father always only protected himself. That’s all he cared about, saving his own ugly ass. So if you tell me that Fabiano kills someone to protect you, I tell you it could be worse. Would Fabiano ever make you pay off his debts with your body?”

“No,” I said with conviction. “He would kill anyone who dared to touch me.”

“Good.”

“Hey, are you coming back? I paid you forty dollars!” my mother’s client shouted.

Mom sighed. “I have to get back to him.”

I watched her scurry back into the bedroom. Slowly I loosened my death grip on the counter.

I needed to figure out a way to get the money my mother owed the Camorra, so she could stop selling her body. If I kept working in Roger’s Arena I would make enough money to pay for the apartment, food and her drugs. She’d never have to bear anyone’s touch again. I didn’t want to think about what she’d said about Fabiano. Even before her words, back when I’d sat in the bus, I’d wondered if I should really leave him. If I should give up the chance of love. But Fabiano’s harsh words today had taken that decision off my chest. This wasn’t about love, not for him at least.

I pulled the rest of the money Cheryl had leant me from my pocket. I still had fifty dollars left. Not much. But they could turn into more.

I grabbed my backpack again and headed back out, glad for the silence in the bedroom. If I had to listen to my mother doing that old bastard, I’d lose it.

Cheryl’s face fell when I walked into the bar. She dropped what she’d been doing and staggered toward me, ignoring a few customers waving at her to serve them. Mel took over quickly. Cheryl gripped my arm and pulled me behind the bar. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be gone by now?”

“Fabiano caught me,” I said quietly. I didn’t need people to overhear. I could tell from the looks people were giving me that they were already talking about me because of what happened to my father.

“Oh fuck.” She sighed. “I told you.”

“I know.”

“You know, if he doesn’t let you leave, perhaps you need to beat him with his own weapons. Go along, let him have fun, give him what he wants until he doesn’t want it anymore. Can’t be that hard?”

I looked away.

“Or is he some kind of sadistic bastard in the bedroom too?”

I didn’t say anything. I knew Fabiano wouldn’t appreciate me talking about these kinds of things. For some reason I didn’t want to betray his trust, and I was uncomfortable talking about them. Because no matter what he’d said during our last encounter, he had showed a gentler side when he was with me, a side he didn’t want people to know about.

Sleeping with Fabiano didn’t scare me for the reasons Cheryl suspected. He had been a far cry from sadistic in the bedroom.

“I’ll give you your money back as soon as Roger pays me, okay?” I told her.

She shrugged. “I don’t care about the money. I wish it would have helped you.”

I smiled. I’d never forget that she’d been willing to help me. “Where is Griffin?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Don’t go down that road. It’s a slippery one. You saw where it got your father.”

She didn’t have to tell me. I remembered what had happened to my father, had relived it in vivid color repeatedly. But after what Mom had told me today, I wasn’t broken up over his death anymore. At least not because he was gone. I only wished I didn’t have to see Fabiano do what he’d done. “I know what addiction does to people, and I have no intention of making betting a habit, believe me.”

“Nobody ever does.” She shrugged. “He’s in the booth behind the cage.”

“Thanks,” I said, then made my way to Griffin. He sat with his gaze glued to his iPad while he pushed fork after fork of fries into his mouth. I sank down on the bench across from him. He looked up, then back down. “I don’t need anything.”

“I’m not here to serve you,” I said quickly.

I pushed the fifty dollars over to him. “I want to bet against Boulder.”

Griffin raised one grey eyebrow, then nodded. Boulder had won every fight in the last couple of weeks. He was rumored to be Fabiano’s next opponent, if he won tonight. And everyone was certain he would win tonight.

“That’s 1 to twenty,” he said calmly.

So much money. “Can I bet money I don’t have?”

“You can get a credit from us and use it for your bet,” Griffin said, then pointed at my wrist. “Or you could put that down for a bet. I’d give you five hundred.”

“It’s worth much more,” I muttered.

He shrugged. “Then sell it somewhere else.”

I fingered the delicate gold chain. “It’s not for sale.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. For some silly reason I didn’t have the heart to sell Fabiano’s gift.

“Just give me two hundred as a credit.” Indebting myself to the Camorra, what a day. Boulder would have to lose tonight. Then Mom would be free, and Fabiano wouldn’t be able to hold her debt against me anymore.

I had to look a second time, unable to believe my eyes. Leona was handing over money to Griffin, our bookie. I’d only come to Roger’s arena to see if Leona had already returned to work and to watch Boulder’s fight later. I stalked toward them. “What’s going on here?”

Griffin nodded a greeting at me. “Earning money like I’m supposed to.”

Leona gave me an indignant look.

“How much did she bet?”

“Fifty in cash and two hundred in advance against Boulder.”

I shot her a look. Boulder was one of the best. He came directly after me and the Falcone brothers. He wouldn’t lose his fight. “She’s not betting,” I ordered.

Griffin hesitated with his fingers against his iPad, finally looking up to me. A frown drew his grey brows together.

“I am,” Leona interrupted. “My money is as good as anyone’s.”

People around were starting to stare. I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up from the leather booth and away from Griffin.

“Does that mean the bet is still on?” he shouted. That was why Remo liked him. He was always focused on the job at hand, never one to be distracted.

“Yes,” Leona shouted in reply.

I dragged her toward the back and then downstairs into the storage room, seething. Only when the door fell shut behind us, did I let go of her. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“I need money to pay my mother’s debts to you off, remember?” she muttered. I staggered toward her, backing her into the wall. She was driving me insane. “And you think you can do that by making new debts? Boulder is going to win and you’ll lose not only the fifty you handed over but you’ll be indebted with two hundred more. I don’t think you have them, and soon they’ll be twice as much.”

She gave me a ‘so-what’ look. “I know what it means to be indebted to the Camorra.” For the first time, she rolled the ‘r’s the same way I did. “I saw what it means to be indebted to your Capo.”

I pressed my palms against the wall beside her head, glaring down at her. “You have seen what it means to be indebted to Remo, but you have never felt what it means to be indebted to us. There’s a world of a difference between those two scenarios.”

She smiled joylessly. No. So wrong on her freckled face. These smiles were for others. Not for her. “And who’s going to make me feel what it means? Who’s going to remind me of my debts? Who’s Falcone going to send to do his dirty work? Who will he send to break my fingers or take me back to that basement?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Who will be the one to make me bleed and beg, Fabiano? Who?”

She shook her head, looking crushed. “You are his Enforcer. His bloody hand. You are the one I have to fear, right?”

She straightened her spine and reached for the knife in my chest holster. I let her do it. She held my gaze as she pulled it out. “Who’s going to pierce my skin with this knife? Who’s going to draw my blood with this blade?”

She pressed the tip of the knife against my chest. “Who?” The word was a mere whisper.

I leaned closer, even as the blade cut through my shirt and skin. Leona drew it back but I moved even closer. “I hope you’ll never find out,” I murmured. “Because it sure as hell won’t be me, Leona.”

She exhaled and I crashed my lips against hers, my tongue demanding entrance. And she opened up, kissing me back almost angrily. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter as I slipped my hand between us and into her panties until I found her hot center, already wet. I stroked my fingers over her clit, making her gasp into my mouth. I slid my finger into her tight heat. So fucking hot.

She tensed at the foreign intrusion but softened around me as I pressed the heel of my palm against her bundle of nerves. I finger-fucked her slowly, allowing her to grow used to the sensation. “I don’t want to see you placing a bet ever again. You hear me? And no other messed up ways of earning money either. I won’t always be able to protect you.”

She huffed, her eyes glazed over with pleasure as I pumped into her slowly with my finger. “And how am I supposed to pay back my mother’s debt? Or perhaps you don’t want me to so you can blackmail me with it?” Her voice was shaky with desire. The sexiest sound in the world.

I stroked my knuckles over her side up to her breast and brushed her nipple through her shirt, feeling her shiver against my touch. She was getting close. “This is a good start.” I was teasing her.

She flinched away, forcing me to pull my finger away. “No,” she hissed like a wounded animal. “I told you no, and that stands. You said it yourself: I’m not worth your time. I’m nothing, remember?”

I shook my head. “You aren’t nothing.” If she were, Remo wouldn’t be breathing down my neck.

“What am I then, Fabiano?”

I leaned down and kissed her slowly, letting her scent and taste engulf my senses, before I drew back. Her cheeks were flushed. “You are mine.”

I stepped back, turned around and left her alone in the storage room.

“You are mine.”

I watched him leave, stunned. For a moment, he’d looked at me like I was inexplicably precious.

Was this about more than him wanting to own me?

Don’t be stupid.

He was a killer. A monster. He was Falcone’s right hand man. He was his Enforcer.

I shuddered at the idea of what he did to people on Falcone’s orders. He wasn’t the cute guy I’d taken him for the first time I’d seen him. How could I have ever taken him for anything other than a killer? Fabiano was many things, but cute or kind weren’t among them. And yet I had fallen for him. What did that say about me?

This city was rotten, corrupt and brutal. The devil had his claws sunk deeply into Vegas’ soil and he wasn’t letting go. If I wanted to survive in this city, I had to play dirty like anyone else. I glanced down at my watch. Three hours until the final match, until Boulder would have to earn me my money back. Fabiano had said it himself: he couldn’t always protect me and I didn’t want him to. I needed to take things into my own hands. Something on the ground caught my eye. Fabiano’s knife. I picked it up.

I quickly rushed back up the stairs, searching the bar for a sign of Fabiano but he was gone. Relieved, I hurried toward Cheryl. “I need to leave for a while. I’ll be back soon.”

“Hey!” she called after me but I was already on my way out.

I returned one hour later with a few of my mother’s pills in my pocket. They were the ones she took when she couldn’t get her hands on meth. They made her dizzy and her heart beating like bush drums in her chest. I hoped they’d do the same to Boulder.

My nerves were frayed as the second to last fight started. I hadn’t seen Boulder yet. And if he didn’t show up early for his fight, I wouldn’t be able to hand him the bottle of water I’d prepared for him.

“What’s the matter with you tonight?” Cheryl took the glass with beer from my hand. The foam head had dwindled. She tossed it into the sink, then drew a new one and gave it to the man at the end of the bar counter.

And then the barrel-chested, bald man known as Boulder finally entered the bar and made his way toward the changing room. I took the bottle from the backpack beneath the bar and another, untouched one for his opponent before I followed slowly. I glanced around myself before I knocked at the door. People were occupied with the fight.

No sound came from inside, but I pushed the handle down and stepped in.

Boulder was sitting on the bench, staring down at the floor in concentration. He looked up and I held the bottle out for him. He didn’t take it, only nodded to the bench beside him. I was about to put it there when I noticed the white substance that had gathered at the bottom of the bottle. I gave it a quick shake, then set it down beside him.

I waited a moment, but he didn’t move to take it. His opponent came out of the toilet and I handed him the other bottle.

I turned and left. I couldn’t stand by. I always brought the fighters water but I didn’t hover to see them drink it. When I slipped out, I released a nervous breath, then quickly went behind the bar before someone noticed something was off.

When Boulder emerged for his fight, he was holding the bottle in his hand. If he didn’t drink it, I’d have dug myself a deeper hole. He climbed into the ring and raised the bottle, then spilled some of the liquid over his head.

I held my breath and only released it, when finally he lifted the bottle to his lips and emptied it.

It took a while for the pills to take effect, and the change was subtle. I hoped subtle enough that no one would suspect anything. It merely looked as if he was lacking concentration and occasionally as if he was dazed, which could be explained by the hits his opponent had landed against his head.

When Boulder went down, and eventually surrendered, I could have died from relief. I waited for the uproar to settle down and most of the guests to leave before I approached Griffin in a moment of quiet. He handed me five thousand dollars, and the feel of the crisp bills soothed my nerves. “This is your lucky day, I suppose,” he said.

I nodded, suddenly terrified that he might get suspicious. I turned and left before someone else saw me with Griffin.

I grabbed my backpack, stuffed the money inside and headed for the backdoor. What if this had been a huge mistake? If someone found out, I’d be doomed.

Fabiano would be waiting for me in the parking lot and I didn’t want to face him now, not until I was sure I could convincingly lie about today.

I stepped through the backdoor and breathed in the cold night air, trying to stifle my panic. I shouldn’t have done it.

“Funny coincidence,” said someone behind me.

I whirled around to find Soto a few steps behind me.

“You won quite a bit of money today.”

My hand on the backpack tightened. I still had Fabiano knife buried inside somewhere, but I remembered how little it had helped me against Fabiano. Soto wasn’t Fabiano. I had never seen him fight, but I suspected he had more practice handling knives than I did.

He moved closer. “Makes me wonder how you got so lucky. I’m sure Remo will wonder about it too if I tell him.”

I reached inside my backpack, then drew the knife.

He laughed. “Ever since the basement, I couldn’t stop imagining how it would be to bury my cock in your pussy. It’s a pity that Fabiano got the honor of handling you.”

“Don’t come closer, or I’m going to—”

“Kill me?” He leered.

“Soto.” Fabiano’s voice sliced through the dim light of the back street. I turned slowly. Fabiano was stalking toward us. His tall form blended in with the darkness, dressed in a black shirt and black slacks.

Soto had his hand on the gun in the holster around his waist, his narrowed eyes on Fabiano. “I saw her bring Boulder water before the fight, and he loses.”

“She’s a waitress, Soto. She serves everyone drinks. She served me water before my fights too,” Fabiano said condescendingly as he positioned himself between Soto and me.

“She served you more than that from what I hear. She bet money against him and he lost. Remo won’t believe it a coincidence. Remo will love that. Apparently you didn’t do a good job in the basement fucking some sense into her. This time I’ll make sure Remo let’s me handle it. And he will after your fuck up.”

“You are probably right,” Fabiano said slowly, eyes on me. I couldn’t look away. His eyes were burning with emotion. “He will let you handle her.” He held his gun in his hand, but Soto couldn’t see it.

I didn’t say anything.

He put a silencer on the barrel with practiced ease.

Heaven help me. I’d let him kill a man for me. Again. But this time I could have stopped him.

Fabiano held my gaze as if he waited for me to protest. I didn’t.

Then he whirled around and pulled the trigger. Soto’s head was shoved backwards by the force, and then he tumbled to the ground. I stared at his unmoving form. I didn’t feel anything. No regret. No relief. No triumph either. Nothing.

Fabiano dismantled the silencer from the gun and returned both to the holster around his chest, then he walked up to me, took the knife from my shaking hands before he touched a palm to my cheek. I looked up at him. “You killed him.”

He killed one of Remo’s men. Another Camorrista. For me.

“I promised I’d protect you and I will honor my promise no matter the price.”

The words hung between us.

“Leave. Go to my apartment and wait there for me. Take a taxi.”

He held out his keys. I took them without a word of protest. He released me and I moved back slowly. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll handle this,” he said, frowning down at the dead body.

I swallowed, then turned on my heel and hurried toward the main road to catch a cab. I had to trust in Fabiano to handle this, to get us out of the mess I’d caused.

It felt strange entering his apartment without him. My body was shaking with adrenaline as I walked up the stairs to the bedroom. Fabiano had killed for me. And I had let him. I could have warned Soto. A word of warning, that’s all it would have taken. I had remained silent. But there was no guilt.

Why wasn’t there any guilt?

You’re finally playing by their rules, Leona. That’s why.

I took a long hot shower to calm my frayed nerves. When I returned into the bedroom dressed in one of Fabiano’s crisp white shirts, almost one hour had passed. I’d hoped Fabiano would be here by now.

Worry twisted my stomach. What if something had gone wrong? What if someone had seen us and alerted Remo?

I felt dizzy with anxiety as I sank down on the bed. My eyes stayed on the clock on the nightstand, watching one minute after the other pass, and wondering why I needed Fabiano to return safely to me.

Betrayal.

I broke Omertà by killing a fellow Camorrista.

For Leona.

I considered my options as I stared down at Soto’s body. I could, of course, make him disappear. Nobody would miss him, least of all his cowering wife. But Remo might be reluctant to believe that Soto deserted. After all, the man had been loyal.

“Damn it,” I muttered. Loyalty.

Loyalty to the Camorra and to Remo, that’s what I’d sworn. An oath that meant everything to me, but protecting Leona made keeping my oath impossible.

Remo didn’t give a fuck about Soto or that I’d killed him, but he would care about me going around killing Made Men without his direct orders.

And then there was Boulder’s miserable fight tonight. It was a big possibility that Remo got suspicious about that as well. God, Leona. Why did she have to bet money? Why did she have to meddle with things she had no clue about?

Because I’d backed her in a corner and cornered dogs tried to bite. Fuck!

I could try to blame Boulder’s failure on Soto. Tell Remo he had drugged the man and that I had killed him because of it. But Soto had no interest in changing the outcome of the fight. He hadn’t placed a bet, no Camorrista ever did if they knew what was good for them. But Leona had, and Griffin would tell Remo if he asked. I grabbed Soto and dragged him toward my car. The parking lot was deserted but if I wasted more time standing around and looking for a solution to the mess I was in, that might eventually change. I put Soto’s body in my trunk, and drove off, out of the city and into the desert. I had a shovel in my trunk, next to the spare tire.

When I found a promising spot, I parked the car, took the shovel from the trunk and shoved it violently into the dry ground. It would take me hours to dig deep enough to hide the body. And all the hard work might be for nothing in the end.

I was covered in dirt and sweat when I finally unlocked my apartment with my second key. It was quiet inside. I closed the door and headed for the liquor cabinet. I didn’t bother with a glass, instead I took a long swig of whiskey from the bottle. The burn of the alcohol cleared the fog of exhaustion.

Leona appeared at the top of the stairs, backlit by the soft glow from the bedroom. She was dressed in one of my shirts. She looked small in it. Vulnerable.

“Fabiano? Is that you?” she asked hesitantly. I took another swig.

I set the bottle down on the counter and moved toward the stairs, then took them one after the other. Leona’s eyes took in my rumpled appearance. “I was worried,” she said as I stopped two steps below her, bringing us on eye-level.

“It takes a while to bury a body in dry desert soil,” I said, my voice raspy from the whisky.

She nodded as if she knew what I was talking about. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” I ground out.

Her mouth parted. “You are?”

“For making you think you had no choice but to do something that foolish, for making you think you couldn’t come to me to ask for help. Not for killing your father. I would do it again if it meant protecting you.”

She averted her gaze, chest heaving. “You look like you could use a shower.”

I smiled wryly. “I could use a lot of things right now.”

She tilted her head toward me, searched my eyes, but didn’t say anything. I walked past her into the bedroom and continued into the bathroom. I got out of my clothes. They were covered in dust and Soto’s blood. I’d have to burn them tomorrow. Not that it would matter. I stepped into the shower. Leona stood in the doorway, watching me. I kept my eyes on her as hot water rained down on me. I liked the sight of her in my shirt. I would have preferred her naked.

Tonight everything had changed. I had made a choice, and I had chosen Leona. Over the Camorra, over Remo.

What had happened in the basement – that was something Remo had been able to overlook, but today, me killing one of his men to protect a woman?

No. That was something he’d never forgive, nor comprehend. He wasn’t the forgiving type. I wouldn’t forgive me if I were him.

I shut the water off. Leona picked up a towel and handed it to me. Her eyes moved down my body, then back up to my face. I wanted her. I wanted, I needed some small sign that I had chosen right. Fuck.

I dried myself half-heartedly, then thrust the towel onto the ground.

Leona didn’t move as I advanced on her, gripped her hips and lowered my mouth to hers for a hard kiss. My fingers on her waist tightened when she kissed me back.

I began guiding her backwards, out of the bathroom and toward my bed. She didn’t resist. Her legs hit the bedframe and she fell backwards. My shirt rode up her thighs, revealing that she wasn’t wearing panties. I breathed out harshly. My cock was already hard. I wanted to finally be in her.

She must have seen it too but there was only need in her eyes, not fear. I climbed on the bed and moved between her legs, then pushed them apart and lowered my body on top of hers.

She sucked in a tense breath but didn’t push me away, or protest. I kissed her again, my tongue tasting her mouth. My cock was pressed up against her inner thigh. A small shift of my hips and I’d be buried in her tight heat.

She brought a hand up, the one with the bracelet, and raked it through my wet hair, which was dripping water down on our faces.

I pulled back a couple of inches. “Why didn’t you pawn it for your bet?”

She followed my gaze. “I couldn’t do it. Because you gave it to me.”

Fuck. The look in her eyes. “I thought you hated me. That’s what you said.”

“I was trying to. But…” she trailed off. “You saved me again. You are the only one who cares enough to risk anything at all for me. It’s pathetic, but there’s only you.”

I couldn’t say anything to her emotional words. Nothing that would have done them justice. “I want you,” I rasped into her ear, then added in an even lower voice. “I need you.”

Her eyes searched mine. She couldn’t stop looking for something, even after everything that had happened.

She lifted her hips slightly, making the tip of my cock slide over her slick folds. I hissed in response to the silent invitation. It was too enticing. To take her right now, no more waiting. But she was worth the wait.

I sat back on my hunches and unbuttoned her shirt, then helped her pull it off, allowed my eyes to take in her flawless skin. I was tired and still riled up. My control was at its limits but I forced myself to lower my mouth to her pussy. Surprise flashed across her face and then her lips parted in a soft moan as I dipped my tongue between her folds. After a few strokes along her heated flesh, I closed my lips around her clit. I was too impatient for the slow approach.

She rewarded me with a gasp and opened her legs even wider. My mouth on her bundle of nerves quickly had her panting and slick with arousal. I pushed a finger into her, fucking loving the way her walls clamped around me. I couldn’t wait for them to do that to my cock. She bucked her hips, crying out and I pushed a second finger into her. She shuddered, as I guided her through her orgasm with slow strokes of my fingers and tongue. But my own need was too urgent now. My cock was close to exploding.

I straightened and reached for the drawer. I took a condom from it before I covered my cock with it. Leona watched me with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. I stretched out above her and guided my cock to her entrance. For a moment, I considered saying something, words she wanted to hear, loving words, gentle words, but I couldn’t. I was filled with so much darkness and despair because I knew this was the only night we’d ever have. I felt it deep down.

I held her gaze as I pushed forward. My tip slid in, tightly gripped by her heat. She tensed, breath stilling in her throat. Her eyes were soft, and fucking emotional. I could not hold back. I didn’t want to. I captured her mouth, eyes boring down into hers, as I claimed her fully. Her resistance fell under the pressure and she gasped against my lips, body taut under me.

“I betrayed for you, I killed for you,” I said roughly, pulling out of her slowly until only my tip remained inside her. “I’ll bleed and I’ll die for you.” I thrust back into her, trying to hold back.

Her eyes widened. From my words and pain. She clung to me, those fucking cornflower blue eyes never leaving my face.

I’ll bleed and I’ll die for you.

It wasn’t a promise, not a sappy declaration of my feelings. It was a prediction.

I pushed deeper and harder with every thrust and she held onto me, eyes boring into mine. And I claimed her with every thrust, trying to convince myself that this was worth it, that Leona was worth the trouble I was willing to take on for her. That she was worth dying for.

Because Remo would kill me.

She sucked in her breath a few times. I knew I needed to be more careful, to go slower but I couldn’t stop. It felt like our time was running through our fingers and I needed to make every moment count. She made me betray Remo, something I’d never considered before, she made me break my oath of putting the Camorra first.

Was she worth it?

As our sweat covered bodies moved against each other, as her tightness squeezed down on me, as her eyes hung onto mine with trust and something stronger and more dangerous, I decided she was worth it. I wasn’t sure how it had come to this. How could I have let it come so far? How could she still look at me with those fucking caring eyes after everything? She was messed up, and so was I.

I held her tightly as I came inside her. She gasped again, her breathing labored, cheeks flushed. She blinked at me slowly as if she was dazed and only just waking from a dream. Her lips brushed mine softly, and I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was about to say words I couldn’t say back. Words she shouldn’t even consider saying, not after what I’d done, not after what she knew about me, not when I was a dead man walking. No words would change that. Nothing could. “Don’t say anything,” I whispered harshly, and she listened. I rolled us over and pulled her against me. She winced but then pressed up against me. Her body against mine felt like it was supposed to be like that. But I knew it might be the only time I could hold her like that.

I woke to Fabiano’s fingers tracing my spine. The touch was gentle, almost reverent.

I peered over my shoulder. He was propped up on his arm and followed the movement of his hand on my back. Hands that could kill without remorse, hands that were inexplicably gentle to me. His gaze found me and I rolled over. Neither of us said anything. I kissed him.

I was sore from last night but I wouldn’t let that stop me, not only because he looked like he needed this more than air but also because I needed him. Last night, Fabiano, above me, in me, I’d felt like things had fallen into place. I’d never had a place to call home, but with him I felt anchored.

Things were complicated between us, they couldn’t be anything else, given our pasts and lives, but I knew no matter what he was, nobody would ever make me feel more cared for than he did. We were twisted and broken and fucked up. Both of us. Why had I ever thought I could be with someone straight-laced, someone with a normal past? That kind of man would never get me, not the same way Fabiano did. Reaching for his neck, I pulled him toward me. He didn’t resist. Our lips glided over each other as he reached between us, found my opening to test my readiness. He shifted and his tip pressed against me. My fingers on his neck tightened as he claimed me with a slow push. My walls quivered in a mix of pain and pleasure. I exhaled sharply. He moved slowly, gently. Last night had been despair and possessiveness, and perhaps even fear and anger. This was different. It felt like…lovemaking. In a twisted way. Perhaps twisted was all I’d ever get.

His mouth found mine as his chest rubbed over my breasts. I moaned as he hit a spot deep within, lifted my butt, needing more. His fingers slipped between my legs, finding my bundle of nerves and began their soft play. I gasped against his lips, and his tongue slipped in, meeting mine for a slow dance. My toes curled and my fingers scratched over the linen as he sped up. Sparks of pleasure traveled from my core into every nerve ending.

I cried out, my hips bucking, and Fabiano pushed hard into me as he too lost control. We gasped, shook against each other. Too many sensations, too many feelings. For a moment he didn’t move, his hot mouth against my throat, then he rolled over and pulled me with him so my cheek rested against his chest. As if he was trying to hide his face from me.

Our breathing was ragged.

“My sister gave it to me,” he said. His words dragged me back to reality.

I followed his gaze toward the bracelet dangling around my wrist. I twisted my head to catch a glimpse at his expression but he tightened his hold.

“Your sister?”

“Aria, my oldest sister. Last time I saw her, she gave it to me.”

That his sister had given it to him made it somehow even more precious. “When you were younger?”

“No,” he said quietly. “Shortly before I met you. I was on a mission in New York.” He fell silent. He didn’t want to talk about the mission, and I wouldn’t push.

“So she gave it to you so you’d remember her?”

He laughed, a raw sound. “She gave it to me so I would give it someone who would help me remember the brother she used to know.”

“So you haven’t always been like this.” It was a stupid thing to say. Nobody was born a killer. They were turned into one by society and their upbringing. He finally allowed me to lift my face. There was a strange smile on his face. “Like this?”

“You know,” I said quietly, because what else was there to say. He knew what he was.

“I know,” he murmured. “That’s all I’ll ever be. You know that, right?”

Part of me wanted to contradict him because it was what one was supposed to do, but I couldn’t. “I know,” I said, and he smiled wryly. “I gave the bracelet to you because I wanted it gone. It annoyed the crap out of me that my sister was trying to manipulate me somehow. But I think she got it right in the end.”

I wondered what he meant by that, but his phone rang in that moment. We both looked toward the nightstand and my heart skipped a beat when I saw who was calling.

I glanced down at the screen. Remo. I untangled myself from Leona and reached for my mobile.

Leona’s eyes pleaded with me to ignore the call, but I needed to find out if Remo was on our trail. I picked up. “What’s up?”

“I need you to kill Adamo for me,” he muttered.

I sat up, shocked.

Leona threw me a worried look. I shook my head, trying to show her that we weren’t in trouble. Yet.

“What do you mean?” I asked carefully. He couldn’t possibly be serious. Adamo was a pain in the ass, but how could he be any other way. He was only thirteen, had been only five when his father had been killed. Remo and his brothers had to go into hiding after that because their own family was fighting for the position as Capo and wanted them dead. He’d seen too much already.

“Cane told me he got word that Adamo did cocaine. Twice.”

I grimaced. “You sure?”

“Apparently he’s hanging with one of our errand boys. The fucker gave him the stuff.” Remo paused. “Last night he stole my Bugatti and drove it into a building.”

Adamo had managed to steal another car?

“One day he’s going to get himself killed. He doesn’t seem to care for his life.”

I loosened my hold on the steering wheel. Remo was worried. Or as worried as Remo was capable of being. “What do you want me to do?”

“Give him a good scare. One that keeps him from doing shit like this. And kill all the other fuckers. Make him watch. Don’t be lenient to him, hurt him, Fabiano. If he gets addicted to the shit, he’s fucking lost. A bullet to the head will be his end then.”

“Got it. I’ll handle him.”

Leona worried her lower lip. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not but it’s got nothing to with us,” I said with a sigh. It was a good sign that Remo trusted me with Adamo. That meant perhaps I’d live to spend another night with Leona in my arms. “I have to deal with one of Remo’s brothers.”

Surprise filled her face but she didn’t ask for more details.

“Why don’t you stay here and have breakfast? I should still have eggs in the fridge.” I slid out of bed and dressed quickly. With a kiss and last glance at Leona’s worried face, I headed out and went in search of Adamo.

I found the Bugatti on the side of the street, completely trashed. A tow-truck from the company we worked with for the races parked behind it, and Marcos, one of the other organizers of the races, and the driver of the tow-truck were walking around the car. I got out of my own and strode toward them.

Marcos raised his palms. “I don’t know how he managed to sneak into the qualification race. That boy is like fucking David Copperfield.”

“Where is he?” I asked.

He shrugged. “He went off with two guys. That Rodriguez kid and the Pruitt kid, the one that sells snuff around here.”

I asked around until I finally found one of our dealers who knew where Pruitt spent his days. It was an abandoned repair shop. I peered through the half open gate.

Adamo and the two older boys were gathered around the hood of an old red Chevy. Adamo’s long hair was matted to his head with blood, and yet he was laughing at something Pruitt said. The fucker shoved a piece of silver with white powder over to Adamo, who looked fucking eager to get his nose down to business.

“Best nose candy, I tell ya,” Pruitt said as he leaned down to sniff his own stuff.

I slid in. Adamo was the first to see me, and he opened his mouth for a warning. I gripped the back of Pruitt’s head and shoved it down hard, smashing his face into the hood. “Enjoy your nose candy,” I growled, then ripped his head back. Blood was shooting out of his nose and his face was covered in it and cocaine. His widened, dazed eyes settled on my face. I gave him a cold smile, but released him when Rodriguez leaped toward me with an iron bar. Pruitt crumbled to my feet and Rodriguez swept the bar at my head. I dropped to my knees. The bar crashed down on the hood. I pulled my knife and slashed it upwards, cutting him open. He dropped the iron bar, then sank to his knees across from me, clutching his stomach. I rose to my feet, then turned to Adamo. His shock was replaced by defiance when he met my eyes. He lifted his chin in challenge.

Oh, Kiddo.

He took a step back from the hood and lifted his balled hands, one of them was clutching a knife the way I’d taught him. “You think you are tough, don’t you? That’s what I thought when I was your age.”

I approached, and pointed toward the cocaine on the hood. “So that’s how you want to end your life?”

“It doesn’t matter. Remo sent you to kill me anyway!” he shouted. He glared, but there were tears in his eyes. “I crashed his favorite car. And I know Cane told him about the snuff.”

“If you plan on using that knife any time soon, do it.”

He ran toward me and slashed the knife sideways as if he intended to cut my throat, but the attempt was half-hearted and his aim way too low. He wasn’t into it. I grabbed his shoulder, thrust him down on the hood, then brought my elbow down on his wrist. He dropped the knife with a cry of pain. I released him and stepped back. He cradled his wrist, tears finally falling as he sank to the dirty floor. Still only a boy. Remo liked to forget. Since Remo had become Capo, Adamo had been alone too often. “Don’t raise a knife against me again unless it’s for training or you really mean to kill,” I told him.

“Just do it,” he muttered, but there was fear in his voice.

I crouched in front of him. “Do what?”

“Kill me.”

“Remo doesn’t want you dead, Adamo. And I think you know that. And you know I won’t kill you. If all this shit is your way to get his attention, it’s not working the way you want it to. You’re only pissing him off.”

“He’s always pissed off since he’s become Capo,” Adamo said quietly. “Perhaps he needs to get laid more often.”

I laughed because he was too young to pull it off. “The one who needs to get laid is you. But if you keep this shit up, you’ll die a virgin.”

He flushed and looked away.

“I’m sure Remo can ask a few pretty girls to take care of it for you.”

“No,” he said fiercely. “I don’t like those girls.”

I straightened and held out my hand for him to take. “Easy tiger.” He took my hand after a moment of hesitation and I pulled him to his feet. He moaned in pain and cradled his wrist again. “I’ll take you to Nino. He’ll set it for you.” Nino, being the fucking genius that he was, knew more about medicine than most doctors.

“Come on,” I told Adamo. He swayed slightly. From the wound on his head from the car crash or because of the pain in his wrist, I couldn’t say. I gripped his arm and steadied him. He only reached my shoulders, so it was no trouble keeping him upright. Pruitt was crawling away, off to another door. I pulled my gun out of my holster, and put a bullet through his head.

Adamo winced beside me. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You are right. I could have taken him to Remo.” We both knew how that would have ended.

Adamo didn’t say anymore as I led him toward my car and helped him into the passenger seat. “They were my friends,” he muttered when I started the car.

“Friends wouldn’t have given you cocaine.”

“We are selling the stuff. Every junkie in Vegas is a customer of the Camorra.”

“Yes. And because we know what it does to people, we don’t take the shit.”

Adamo rolled his eyes before he leaned his head against the window, smearing it with blood. “What’s with you and that girl?”

I jerked. “What are you talking about?”

“The one with the freckles.”

I narrowed my eyes in warning.

Adamo gave me a triumphant smile. “You like her.”

“Careful,” I warned.

He shrugged. “I won’t tell Remo. At least she has her own free will. The girls Remo always brings home kiss the ground he walks on because they fear him. It’s disgusting.”

“Adamo, you are a kid but you need to grow up and learn when to keep your fucking mouth shut. Remo is your brother, but he is still…Remo.”

Adamo did keep his mouth shut when we walked into the Falcone mansion. Remo, Savio and Nino were sitting on the couches in the living room. Savio got up with a grin and punched his brother’s shoulder. “You are screwed.” Then he sauntered off. Sixteen and almost as intolerable as Adamo most days. Nino on the other hand, he looked almost bored, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to recite every fucking word tomorrow.

Remo gave me a nod. Perhaps Remo hadn’t lost his trust in me. Perhaps things would turn out okay after all. Remo turned to his brother. “Broken wrist?”

Adamo glared at the ground. I let go of him and took a step back. That was between Remo and him. Remo pushed off the couch and came toward Adamo. “You won’t take drugs again. No cocaine, heroine, grass, crack, you name it. Next time, I won’t send Fabiano. Next time I will deal with you.” If anyone ever killed one of his brothers, then it would be Remo.

Adamo raised his head, the same fucking challenge back in his eyes.

I wanted to slap him.

“Like you dealt with our mother?”

Remo’s face became still.

Nino slowly rose from the couch. “You shouldn’t speak of things, you don’t understand.”

“Because nobody explains them to me,” Adamo hissed. “I’m sick of you treating me like a stupid child.”

Nino positioned himself between Adamo and Remo, who still hadn’t said anything. “Then stop acting like one.” He gripped Adamo’s arm and pulled him along. “Let me treat your wounds.”

Remo hadn’t moved yet. His eyes were like black hell fire.

Great. And I was left to deal with him like that.

“Set up a fight for me, tonight. Someone who can hold his own against me.”

The only people who could hold their own against him were Nino and I. Savio was on his way to getting there.

Remo’s eyes settled on me and for a moment I was certain he’d ask me to fight him. We hadn’t ever fought in an official match. For good reason, there were no ties in the fighting cage. One of us would have to give up.

“Or better two. Alert Griffin. He should hurry with the bets.”

I sighed, but it was no use arguing with Remo when he was in a mood like that. Perhaps this would distract him for a while. The longer it took for him to notice that Soto had disappeared the better. I turned to set everything up, when Remo’s voice made me stop.

“And Fabiano, have you seen Soto recently? I can’t contact him and nobody seems to know where he is.”

I forced my expression into one of mild curiosity. “Perhaps one of his clients gave him trouble today?”

“Perhaps,” he said quietly, but his eyes said something else.