Twisted Bonds (The Camorra Chronicles Book 4)

I’m telling you it’s a fucking mistake.

Remo’s words still rang in my head clear and loud as we pulled up in front of the mental institution. Adamo and Fabiano got out. Nino and I remained in the car.

“Will you come in with us?” I asked Nino.

Originally Fabiano and Adamo were meant to do the visit alone, and then Adamo asked me if I’d join them and so Nino, of course, insisted to come as well.

A muscle in Nino’s jaw flexed and for a long time he only stared ahead before he gave a terse nod. “I don’t want you anywhere near her.”

“Fabiano and Adamo are going to talk to her. I’ll stay back. She can’t hurt me.”

Nino pushed open the car door and I followed. A man with a short gray beard, gray hair and a white coat waited for us on the steps. From the outside it looked like a normal mansion, but upon a closer look I discovered bars in front of many windows and the garden behind the building was separated from the driveway by a tall fence. The doctor walked toward Nino and shook his hand. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m the new head psychiatrist, Dr. Mitchell.”

Nino barely reacted. “Where is the meeting taking place?”

“I thought the gardens would be a good option. The weather is nice and the other inhabitants are in the cafeteria for lunch so you’ll have privacy.”

“Lead the way,” Nino said.

Dr. Mitchell glanced from Nino to us, hesitating, then he turned and led us inside the mansion. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, something more prison-like perhaps, and I was pleasantly surprised.

Inside the floor was sterile stone and the walls were painted in a subdued yellow, probably for its calming qualities. “She’s already waiting outside,” Dr. Mitchell said.

“Alone?” Nino asked sharply.

“With her caregiver.”

Fabiano’s eyebrows rose. He was tense, cautious. Nino and he were armed with guns and knives. Adamo hadn’t been allowed to carry any because Nino worried their mother might get her hands on them.

We arrived in a vast garden and the doctor pointed toward a bench. A woman with short, dark hair sat with a big man in shrubs. Nino’s demeanor changed immediately, a shift in his muscles and expression, something dark and primal awakening that had me worried. Fabiano noticed too and briefly touched Nino’s forearm, causing him to meet his gaze. “Nino, shall Adamo and I go ahead and you wait here?”

Nino nodded and turned to the doctor. “You can leave, so can the caregiver.”

Dr. Mitchell looked like he would disagree then thought better of it and waved for the caregiver to come over.

Adamo and Fabiano slowly headed for the bench. Eventually only Nino and I remained at the beginning of the path, staring down toward the bench. Fabiano stopped right in front of it. Adamo spoke to his mother and then sat down beside her.

Nino walked a few steps closer, his body brimming with tension. We stopped still a good distance away, out of earshot, but close enough to see the burn scars on the woman’s arms. Scars from when she’d tried to kill her boys by cutting their wrists and burning them alive.

She turned around, glancing over her shoulder at us, and my breath lodged itself in my throat. Her eyes were gray like Nino’s.

Nino reached for his gun but I touched his hand. His gaze flew to mine, foreign and hateful, but more than that—haunted.

“Not today,” I whispered. “Let Adamo have this moment.”

Nino nodded and lowered his hand. I linked our fingers, squeezing to show him my support. Mrs. Falcone was still staring toward us, though mainly at me. Her unfaltering attention made me nervous. Something about it was too intense.

Adamo followed her gaze and said something, which made her nod and turn back to him.

I released a shuddery breath. Nino watched everything closely, his eyes burning with hatred I usually only saw in Remo’s face.

Fabiano eventually gave a sign and Nino waved at the caregiver who waited in the door. Mrs. Falcone stared at us again as Adamo and Fabiano made their way back.

I was glad when we were in the car, and so was Nino. He started the car at once and drove us away.

“And?” I asked softly.

“She was nice, a bit confused. She called me Remo a few times,” Adamo said.

Nino jerked and the car briefly swerved.

“Hey,” Fabiano said, leaning forward. “Do you want me to drive?”

Nino ignored him, his fingers around the steering wheel tightening.

“What did you think, Fabiano?” I asked.

He shrugged, his gaze still on the back of Nino’s head. “Something about her was off, and I don’t just mean her being insane.”

Adamo was staring out of the side window with a lost expression.

“Do you want to visit her again?” I asked him.

Nino made a small sound but didn’t comment.

“I don’t think so. It was strange seeing her. I thought I’d feel something, but she is a stranger … The word ‘mother’ is empty for me.”

Despite his words, I could hear the underlying longing in his voice, the wish for more, for a connection that might never be.

I could tell that the encounter still occupied Nino’s thoughts a day later as we lay in bed. He wasn’t his usual calm self and he hadn’t slept at all last night. There was an underlying restlessness that had me worried. Remo had gone off to work in the Sugar Trap when we’d headed out for the visit, and he hadn’t returned to the mansion yet. He, too, had my stomach turning itself with concern. First the thing with Serafina, now this. Remo was always toeing the edge of a dangerous abyss. I had a feeling a small nudge could send him over the edge.

I studied Nino’s colorful tattoos, lingering on the shadowy figure amidst raging flames on his upper arm and Remo’s name making up the glowing ambers. “This will give Adamo peace of mind. Now you can all move on.”

Nino turned toward me, his eyes emotionless. Now that I knew how different they looked when he showed emotions, seeing them like this always cut me deeply. “Neither of us will have peace as long as she’s there.”

“Pretend she isn’t there. She can’t get out of the hospital, so you don’t have to worry about her. She’s the past, Nino.”

“She’s there, always at the back of our minds.”

I sighed. “I know, but it’s because you and Remo keep her lodged there, because you treat her like unfinished business. Make peace with the fact that she’s alive, that you won’t kill her, and then you can move on.”

Nino frowned as if what I suggested was impossible.

I kissed his bearded chin. “Move on from the past so we can move forward into our future. We want a baby, we want a family of our own, don’t allow your mother to ruin that.”

Nino cupped my head and pulled me in for a harsh kiss. Gradually it grew softer until he pulled away. “Aren’t you going to have an ovulation soon?”

I stifled a laugh. Trust Nino to know my cycle better than myself. “I think so.”

Nino kissed me again and his fingers ghosted over my body, alighting it with desire and when we finally made love, it felt different—even if that didn’t make sense. But looking at Nino’s face I could tell he felt the same way because it felt like finally Nino wanted a baby as much as I did.

Nino twisted and turned in his sleep, waking me. He was having a bad dream. I turned on the bedside lamp. The sounds of distress were familiar and when I touched his shoulder, I expected the worst, another episode like the one he’d had before. I braced myself when Nino jerked awake. He stared at me for several moments, his eyes confused and agonized before slowly realization set in and the tension slipped away.

“Sometimes I think I’ve come to accept my emotions, and then this happens and I just want the quiet back,” he murmured.

“I know,” I said softly. “But you’ll be glad for your emotions when you hold your child for the first time.”

“I’m glad for my emotions when I look at you.”

Love flared in my heart and I snuggled up against Nino once more, resting my hand over the tattoo of my name on his forearm. I began to sing quietly and gradually Nino’s pulse slowed under my fingertips. His lips pressed against the top of my head and he extinguished the lights. My voice grew quieter as tiredness dragged me down and eventually, I fell asleep with Nino’s calm pulse beating under my touch.

NINO

As the year passed, things quieted down for us. Adamo’s interest for our mother decreased slowly. He had visited her a couple more times. However, his last visit had been more than two months ago and his mood had improved considerably overall, which was good for him, but also good for Remo.

My older brother finally seemed to have conquered his obsession with Serafina, even if he definitely hadn’t forgotten her. Part of him probably still hoped she’d return to him. The problem with my brother was that if he allowed someone into his heart, he was a loyal fucker and never let them out again.

Kiara was decorating the entire home for our second Christmas together and baking almost all day. Our freezers were already stacked with Christmas cookies.

I regarded her as I worked on my computer on the sofa in the gaming room, finishing up last details for the upcoming grand race. She was rearranging the baubles on the tree for the third time, her forehead puckered.

This was a distraction strategy. We’d been sleeping with each other without protection for eleven months now and she still wasn’t pregnant. In the beginning she’d done a pregnancy test every month, but these last three months she’d stopped, or at least not told me about it.

I wasn’t sure how to lessen her sadness.

Putting the laptop to the side, I stood and headed over to her. I took a bauble from her and returned it to its previous spot on the tree. “It looked good there.”

Kiara sighed and gave me a small smile. “I know.”

I touched her cheek. “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. That’s why it’s not working so far. Try to relax, to forget that you’re not using contraception.”

“I’m trying. I know it takes longer with some people, especially if they’re feeling stress, and I want this so much that I got obsessed. It was ridiculous how disappointed I was when I got my period after we’d been only trying to get pregnant for a few weeks …”

“We’ve got time,” I said.

Steps thundered through the house and Remo stormed inside, looking completely deranged. Savio was a few steps behind him, and his dark expression set off my inner alarm bells. “What’s the matter?”

Remo kicked the punching bag so hard the hook groaned and a bit of plaster fell to the floor.

“Cavallaro sent a fucking assassin to Kansas. He killed Russo,” Savio said.

Kiara was confused.

“Our Underboss in Kansas,” I explained, trying to understand the sensations taking hold of me—until I finally realized it was anger.

“Does Stefano know?” I asked Savio. Remo didn’t appear like he was in the mood to speak.

Savio shook his head, glancing toward Remo cautiously. “No, we just found out ourselves, and Stefano’s off looking for new prey.” He moved toward me. “Should I talk to him?”

“No,” Remo growled. “You and him hate each other’s guts.”

“I couldn’t give any less fucks about Stefano. He’s the one who can’t bear that someone’s prettier, not to mention more successful with the ladies, than him,” Savio said with a smirk.

“I’ll talk to him,” I said. “You both aren’t fit to tell someone they lost their brother.”

Remo nodded. “I’ll fly over to Kansas City right away to show presence. You come with me, Savio.”

“When will you be back?” I asked.

“Tomorrow. I don’t want to leave Las Vegas for long at the moment, not when Cavallaro’s discovered his fucking balls.”

I turned to Kiara. “I’ll have Fabiano come over to watch you.” Adamo wouldn’t come home from school for another three hours and Kiara needed protection. I sent Fabiano a quick text and as usual he arrived five minutes later.

“I’m starting to like these new living arrangements,” Fabiano said with a grin as he walked in, but sobered upon seeing our expressions. “What?”

“Cavallaro killed our Kansas Underboss.”

“Fuck,” Fabiano snarled. “That asshole. You want to strike back?” His eyes found Remo’s, because if anyone went on a crazy revenge mission then it would be my brother.

Remo bared his teeth. “Not yet, but we will, trust me. We will strike back.”

“Can you guard Kiara while I search for Stefano?”

Fabiano nodded. “How about you come over to my house? I want to catch a workout in my gym.”

Kiara nodded. “Of course. When will Leona be home?”

“In about two hours. She doesn’t have many courses today.”

Kiara and Leona had grown even closer since Fabiano had bought the villa beside ours and was our new neighbor. The previous owners had sold the house after some convincing from Remo. I kissed Kiara briefly then headed out to find Stefano. It wouldn’t be good if he found out from someone else. Word about what happened would already be spreading like wildfire among our men and it was only a matter of time before the Captains from Kansas called Stefano to give him their condolences and get in his good graces.

I took my new Tesla sports car and drove over to Stefano’s apartment at the Strip. I rarely headed this way. The tourists and advertisements for cheap buffets and booze weren’t to my taste.

I got out of my car and dropped my key off with the bell boy then headed inside and past the concierge.

“Sir? Sir, you can’t come in here without registering with me first.”

I stopped in front of the elevator and pressed the button, then turned toward the overweight concierge stumbling toward me, his face turning red and the alarm button in his hand. I’d been here only once before and there had been another concierge.

“I need to ask you to follow me to my desk and register with me,” he said, trying to sound authoritarian and failing miserably. His other hand moved to the pepper spray attached to his belt.

“If you pull that, I’ll break every single one of your fingers and empty that entire bottle in your face,” I said calmly. “My name is Nino Falcone. Now return to your desk and get back to work.”

The man took a step back. I stepped inside the elevator and rode up to the top floor. Arriving at Stefano’s door, I hammered my fist against the frame.

Steps rang out then stopped. He opened the door, dressed in only boxer shorts and holding a Glock. Surprise crossed his face. “Nino? What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

Stefano shoved his gun into his waistband and opened the door fully. I walked into his open living area. A girl scurried out of the room, clutching her clothes to her body.

“Looks young. Is she of age?”

Stefano frowned. “Of course. I always make sure they are. It’s rule number one.” He studied me with suspicious, dark eyes. “Usually a visit at home from one of you means nothing good. I didn’t break any rules, so I hope my Persian rugs stay clean.”

I nodded. “Cavallaro attacked Kansas City and killed your brother.”

Stefano stared at me as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right then walked over to the sofa and sank down. Slowly his hands curled to fists. I gave him a moment and found the girl in the bedroom. She had dressed.

“Leave, and don’t come back.”

She blinked. “What—”

“Leave. He only fucked you for his job,” I said. She grabbed her purse and ran past me without a word. Stefano didn’t even look up.

“Remo and Savio are heading over there now, dealing with the aftermath, but you’ll have to join them.”

Stefano looked around. “I guess I’ll have to move to Kansas City now.”

“Yes,” I said. “You are the next in line. Kansas City needs a new Underboss.”

“Dante will try to have me killed as well now that he’s tasted blood.”

“Dante will try, yes.”

Stefano chuckled and stood. “My father’s men won’t accept me easily. There’s a reason why I worked for you as Romancer. It’s what I’m good at.”

“Your father’s men accepted your brother.”

“Barely. I’m younger and not very popular over there for what I’ve done.”

“It doesn’t matter. The Camorra isn’t a democracy. If Remo declares you Underboss, his Captains and soldiers will accept it, and if they don’t they’ll pay the consequences. You only need to worry about making one man happy and that is Remo, and so far, you have done a good job.”

“Doing a good job of fucking girls and making them fall in love with you is a different thing than leading men.”

“It is, and you’ll excel at the latter because you don’t want to disappoint us.”

Stefano grimaced. “I’ll fly over to Kansas today.”

I gave a nod and left. This assassination would cause trouble. My brothers and I would have to keep it contained, show our Underbosses that this was a one-time thing. Most of them were loyal to the bone, to Remo at least, but our territory was vast and it was impossible to control everything absolutely, even if Remo wanted to. There were people amongst our men who might join a mutiny, men that had lain low when Remo had conquered our territory without mercy, who were scared to speak up back then. Maybe they’d get more daring now. It would give me the chance to weed them out.

Anyone who thought he could take our territory from us would be met with the full cruelty of our natures. The Camorra was ours. We were the Camorra. We were Las Vegas. We were even the West, and it would always remain that way.