Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)(13)



“For fuck’s sake, why can’t you tell me what the fuck is going on?” I growled, sending a hard jab toward his face which he blocked.

Remo tilted his head with a dark smile. “There’s something going on between you and Dinara.”

I glowered. Remo always knew more than he should and he enjoyed it.

“It’s none of your business but there’s absolutely nothing going on.”

Yet. Not that I hadn’t imagined it…

“Some people might disagree with you. After all, Dinara is part of the Bratva through her family. You’re fraternizing with the enemy.”

“Like I said there’s nothing going on, and don’t play holier than thou.

Fina used to be the enemy too and now she’s your wife.”

Remo’s smile became more dangerous. “You’re right. But I was the one who was pulling the strings when I met her. Make sure you are too.”

“It would help if you could tell me what I’m up against. Is Dinara out for revenge?”

“Once she finds out the truth, definitely.”

I grimaced. “What the fuck did you and Grigory do? I should tell Dinara that her mother is alive.”

“Yes, you should.”

I paused, narrowing my eyes. “What’s your endgame, Remo? I don’t want Dinara to get hurt.”

Remo shook his head. “You have a complicated taste in women.”

“That’s something we have in common.”

Remo chuckled. “Go tell her and see how she reacts.”

“I don’t like this. I don’t want Dinara to become a pawn in your war with Grigory.”

Remo didn’t say anything.

I considered punching his face but he probably anticipated the move.

Instead I gave him a smile in turn. “This fight is over. Let Fabiano have a go at you. I need to return to camp.”

Remo leaned against the corner of the cage, his eyes never leaving me.

“I’m not the villain here, Adamo. My intentions are pure for not telling you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I climbed out and Fabiano took my place in the cage instead. “The word pure and you are at odds.”

Nino came toward me before I could leave the gym. “You should join us at the pool in the afternoon. We’ll have a barbecue and enjoy the good weather.”

I shook my head. “No thanks, I’ve had enough of Remo’s mind games.”

“He’s not the only one at fault. Whenever you’re here, you’re looking for a topic to fight over.”

“I don’t have to look. Remo and I disagree on many things.”

“He and I do too, but you only focus on your disagreements and try to ignore the good. Remo loves you and always does what he thinks is best for you.”

“I really need to return to camp now. The next race is in only a week. I have plenty of things to set up.”

Nino nodded and allowed me to pass. I felt a pang when I left. But it wasn’t only because of Remo. The next race was the start of a number of races in short succession, all of them without a day for rest between them. I had plenty to organize and make sure my car was in top condition.

And I was eager to see Dinara again.





The first trailers and tents came into view in the distance, and I couldn’t help but smile. Living the nomad life wasn’t very comfortable, especially the sanitary options sometimes left a lot to be desired. But we preferred to be among ourselves instead of staying in motels. Of course, some racers opted for the comfort of nearby hotels and only joined us the night before a race, especially those who were sponsored by their rich parents and didn’t do this for the money. Luckily there weren’t many of them. With the upcoming seven races in only one week, everyone would have to camp or sleep in their car.

I parked my car at the edge of camp and got out. Crank’s rustic trailer was in the center with everyone else’s makeshift homes set up around it. He was the go-to guy when I wasn’t there and his trailer was often our business home-base.

It was late in the afternoon and tomorrow was the last day to get everything in order before our sevenday-race, especially drill the rules into the participants. I already knew a few people I’d have additional chats with to make sure they really got the message.

A fire burned in the center in preparation for nightfall and the scent of meat smokers and barbecues filled the air. I set up my tent, a small twoperson thing that I attached to my car. I preferred to keep a close eye on my Corvette.

Sometimes strange accidents occurred.

“How was Vegas?” Dinara asked close behind me, just when I’d zipped the tent up. I turned around to find her standing very close with her arms crossed over a cut-off AC/DC T-shirt, revealing that tantalizing piercing again. It was a tiny red and golden egg. For once Dinara wasn’t in boots but flip-flops, revealing dark-red painted nails.“And what happened to your face?”

My lip was slightly swollen from Remo’s punch. “A friendly grapple with my brother. And Vegas is the same it always is. Loud, flashy and dirty,” I said, tearing my eyes away from her body and meeting her knowing gaze.

Dinara seemed perceptive, but even if she weren’t, she would have noticed me checking her out by now. It was really difficult not to do so. Her confidence alone drew me in.

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