Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles #5)(4)



I almost choked on laughter. Kitty was flirting with me.

“If you got something in your eyes, wash your face, Gemma,” Diego growled.

She tore her gaze away from me. She swallowed. “So, will you fight with me today?”

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked.

She nodded, expression brightening. “Diego’s always holding back. How can I improve with that training?”

Diego gave me an exasperated look over her head, and I smirked. “If you want someone who won’t hold back, you’ll have to fight my brother, Remo. He won’t hold back, trust me. After that, I’ll fight with you.”

Nino and Remo stopped their fighting in the cage, their eyes on me.

Gemma’s eyes grew wide as her gaze slid past me toward my brothers. Remo was a scary fucker. Most men wouldn’t dare face him in the cage, or anywhere else. He had left a bloody trail in his claim for power, but he was the best Capo the Camorra had ever seen.

Diego pointed toward a few chairs next to the boxing ring. “Come on, Gemma, sit down and let me train with Savio.”

Gemma tore her wide-eyed gaze from Remo and looked up at me. “If I fight him, you’ll train with me twice a week for the next year.”

Oh, now we were bartering?

“Three months,” I said with a shake of my head. Even that would mean a seriously deep cut in my free time—meaning less time with girls who actually had something to offer.

“Six months,” she said firmly, lifting her chin. She held my gaze.

I gave her a smirk. “All right.” She’d run away screaming the moment she was in a cage with my brother anyway.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Diego said quickly. He looked worried for his sister. Remo had been on edge lately with his trip approaching to Outfit territory to kidnap a bride, but my brother wouldn’t hurt a girl.

“Hey Remo, can you come over for a sec?”

Remo rubbed his face and chest dry, then dropped the towel and climbed out of the fighting cage. Nino followed after him and both stopped beside me.

“Gemma wants to play with the big boys,” I told Remo. “She wants to fight you.”

“You’re Daniele’s youngest,” Remo said, more statement than question. People were always surprised when Remo knew them, but my brothers and I knew all our soldiers in Las Vegas and the high-ranking Camorrista in our entire territory. You couldn’t establish power without knowing the people you’d have to control.

Gemma flushed. “Yes…” She trailed off, obviously unsure what to call him. I had to stifle laughter. I’d have loved to see her call him Sir or Mr. Falcone.

“Gemma’s only thirteen,” Diego added. A hint of protectiveness rang in his voice.

Remo nodded, but he was looking at Gemma, then at me. I cocked one eyebrow at him.

“Maybe,” Nino drawled. “Gemma should fight me instead.”

Gemma’s eyes darted to Nino. She didn’t look happier about that. His reputation wasn’t much better than Remo’s. Most people were creeped out by the fact that Nino didn’t have emotions.

Remo’s mouth twitched. Of course, he found it funny when Nino tried to prevent a misfortune from happening.

“That wasn’t the deal,” I said.

Remo tilted his head with the fucking twisted smile that made grown men piss their pants. “You want to fight me?”

Gemma swallowed, but she straightened her shoulders. Her eyes darted to the scar marring Remo’s eyebrow and temple. “I do. That was the deal, like Savio said.”

Diego stared from his sister to me, giving me a meaningful look. He wanted me to interfere because he couldn’t with Remo. But I found the whole thing way too entertaining to stop it.

“Then go ahead,” Remo said.

“The cage,” I reminded Gemma.

A hint of anxiety flitted in her eyes and Diego gripped my arm and whispered harshly, “What’s the matter with you? Are you fucking crazy? This is my little sister. She’s not some fucking toy you can play with!”

“Calm down,” I said.

Diego swallowed, turning to Remo. “Can I ask you to wear a shirt when fighting my sister?”

Remo’s dark brows pulled together.

I snorted. “Don’t tell me this is because of your traditional bullshit?”

Diego glared at me and Gemma turned even redder and stared down at her feet.

Remo nodded, surprising me. Nino walked over to the gym bag and took out a black shirt, which he handed Remo, who pulled it over his head. Remo didn’t play by the rules. He made them. But showing respect to his men no matter how ridiculous their traditions was something he paid attention to.

With a last glance at me, Gemma climbed into the cage, followed by Remo who closed the door with a clang, causing Gemma to jump.

I moved closer, so did Nino and a seething Diego. “What’s Remo going to do?” he asked.

Nino replied before I could, “He won’t hurt your sister. At least not more than she can take.”

Diego’s face turned red and he sent me a scowl. “I swear,” he whispered. “If Gemma gets hurt, you can do your shit alone. Then we’re done.”

He was fucking scared for her. I always forgot that only my brothers and I knew Remo. He was a brutal fucker, merciless and psychotic as fuck, but he wasn’t into humiliating or torturing innocents, especially not underage girls. “Just calm the fuck down. He’ll scare her a bit, that’s all.”

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