Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles Book 2)
Twisted Emotions: Chapter 5

KIARA

Aunt Egidia handled the wedding preparations with Aria’s help. The Falcones didn’t seem to show much interest in the details of the celebration. For them it was business, nothing else. It was decided that the wedding was to take place in my parents’ mansion in the Hamptons—the place where they had been killed. My mother by my father and my father by Luca. It was almost symbolic that this was the place where I would lose my life as well.

On the day of my wedding, I stepped into the foyer of the mansion, a place I hadn’t set foot in for years. It had been mostly deserted since then. My brothers had inherited the place—not me since I was a woman—and they had preferred to stay in Atlanta, away from Luca and away from me. They were much older, so we never had much in common anyway. They were busy making names for themselves, despite our father’s wrongdoings. My marriage to Nino was supposed to wash away the blemish of the past, but my secret could ruin us all.

Over the last few days, cleaners and interior designers had awoken the place from its desolate state. The main party would take place in a massive party tent in the garden. It was late April and planning the party outside without any shelter would have been too risky.

I walked up the stairs slowly, and my eyes found the spot where my mother had died. With a shudder, I quickly scurried into my old bedroom. It, too, had been prepared for the day. Fresh flowers had been set up in vases around the room, probably to cover the musty scent of neglect. My aunt was talking to the stylist, who’d do my hair and makeup, at the vanity. A floor-length mirror had been set up for the occasion. My dress was spread out on the four-post bed.

It was a beautiful dress: white, the color of innocence and purity.

I looked at my aunt and considered telling her what had happened to me six years ago. As always, I didn’t because I’d be less in her eyes. Something broken, something dirty. Not worthy of that perfect white dress.

Giulia slipped into the room, already dressed in a beautiful burgundy dress, and hugged me. “I can’t believe they chose this place for the celebrations,” she muttered.

“It belongs to her closest living relatives, her brothers. It’s what honor dictated.”

Honor dictated so many things in our lives, it hardly left any room for choice.

Giulia rolled her eyes. “So it had nothing to do with the fact that nobody wanted to risk their mansion for the party because the risk of a bloodshed is too high? After all, that’s why this isn’t taking place in a hotel.”

Aunt Egidia pursed her lips at her daughter. “Giulia, really, one would think your marriage to Cassio would have put a stop to your insolence.”

“Cassio likes my insolence,” she said, her cheeks flushing.

Aunt Egidia sighed then narrowed a nervous glance toward the stylist; she was always worried about leaving a bad impression in front of others. “I think we should start now. With your unruly hair, it’ll probably be a while before your bridal hairdo is done.”

My aunt proved to be right. The stylist took forever taming my curls into a braid that traveled down my back. A thin strand of gold leaves and pearls that she wound into it adorned the simple style.

“You are so very beautiful,” Giulia said quietly.

Egidia clasped her hand in front of her stomach, regarding me with more affection than I’d ever seen before. “You are.”

The stylist left the room with a small smile, which I returned even as my facial muscles felt ready to burst from tension.

Egidia smoothed out the veil lining my neckline again before she faced me, touching my shoulders. “As women, we have to fulfill our duty to our husbands …” she began, and I tensed because I knew where she was going with it. “You don’t have to be—” She stopped herself. Don’t have to be scared? Those were the words every mother spoke to her daughter on their wedding day. I knew because Giulia had told me Egidia said the same thing to her on her wedding day. I met Aunt Egidia’s gaze and the guilt I’d seen in her eyes before was back. “Make him treat you like a lady.”

Giulia stepped up to Egidia. “Mother, let me talk to Kiara, okay? I think she will feel more comfortable around me.”

Aunt Egidia nodded, looking relieved. She patted my shoulder then walked out, leaving me alone with my stepsister.

Giulia sighed as she regarded me in the mirror. “I don’t like this, Kiara. You shouldn’t be marrying a Falcone. You are the last person who should.”

“Why? Better than someone innocent.”

Giulia gripped my hand hard. “Stop it. You aren’t dirty or less or whatever you think you are because of what he did to you. And you don’t deserve this.”

“Who deserves this? I don’t wish this fate on any other girl. I will survive.”

Giulia perched on the vanity. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Don’t say anything. There’s nothing you can tell me that will set me at ease,” I told her quickly. I knew what was going to happen tonight, and I had lived through it before. I swallowed. “I won’t fight him. I will do what he wants. Then surely it will be endurable. I’m not thirteen anymore.” My words were hushed, broken vowels strung together.

Giulia breathed deeply. “My God, Kiara. Tell Luca. He can still replace a way out of this for you.”

“Cancelling the wedding today? That would be a slap in Remo Falcone’s face. He isn’t a man who will turn the other cheek. He will seek revenge, no matter the price.” I took a deep breath. “No. I will marry Nino. Did you get the pills I asked you for?”

She held out a small package to me. “One should do the trick, but I really don’t think you should drug yourself to be calm.”

“It’s a light sedative. It won’t knock me out.” Although, I would have preferred that effect, but Nino would not appreciate it if I were unconscious when he claimed me. My stomach pinched sharply, and I pressed my palm against it.

“Kiara—”

“No. I’m doing this. Many choices have been taken from me throughout this life, but I choose to salvage my honor, choose to hold my head high no matter what happens. Let this be my choice.”

Giulia nodded and got up. “Because the Falcones are feared, because they rule without mercy, doesn’t mean Nino won’t treat you with kindness. Some men don’t bring violence home to their wives. Some men can distinguish between the ones they need to protect and those they need to break. I think Nino might be one of them.”

I wondered if she really believed her words or if they were just to console me, but I didn’t have the courage to ask her. I stuffed the pills into the small white purse that matched my dress. “Can you give it to me at the party? I can’t carry it down the aisle.”

Giulia took it and hugged me briefly. “Of course.”

NINO

My brothers and I weren’t religious, so we had refused to marry in church, much to the Famiglia’s disapproval. I wasn’t sure why they clung to their beliefs when they broke every rule established by their religion on a daily basis. Every man would end up in Hell, if what they believed was truth.

I waited at the altar that had been set up in front of the tent in the gardens. Remo stood beside me as my best man, his eyes undressing Kiara’s bridesmaid Giulia in a way that made her husband Cassio scowl. I sent Remo a warning look but he ignored me. He probably would have preferred a bloody wedding, and from the look on Matteo’s face as he sat in the first row, he would too. Adamo and Savio sat a few seats away from the Vitiellos. To my surprise, Luca had allowed Aria to sit beside Leona. They seemed to be getting along well, and even Fabiano exchanged the occasional word with his sister.

Remo rolled his eyes when he followed my gaze. He should have been happy that his insane plan was working. A truce between the Famiglia and Camorra seemed like a valid possibility.

A hush fell over the crowd when the music began to play and Kiara appeared at the end of the aisle. She had chosen an elegant dress with a veil that covered her shoulders. Felix led her toward me, but Kiara never raised her eyes to meet mine, instead keeping them fixed on my chest.

When Felix handed her over to me, her hand shook in mine. I pressed my thumb against her wrist, feeling her pulse raced under my fingertips. I regarded her face. Her expression was neutral, but in her eyes was a look I’d often seen in people’s eyes before I started to torture them.

Given our reputation, her terror was understandable, but it was completely unfounded. She wasn’t my enemy but my wife. I hadn’t given her reason for that kind of reaction.

She never once glanced my way as the pastor gave his long-winded sermon and finally declared us husband and wife.

“You may kiss the bride,” the pastor said.

I turned to Kiara and her pulse sped up even more. Her terrified eyes finally lifted to mine, and she swallowed hard. Holding her gaze, I cupped her cheek, ignoring her trembling, and pressed my lips to hers. They were soft and quivered against mine. When I pulled back, she swallowed again.

We made our way past the guests and stopped beside a table, which had been set up with champagne flutes.

After we’d accepted congratulations from our guests, the buffet was finally opened. Kiara was tense throughout dinner and hardly ate anything. She only relaxed when she got up and walked over to Aria and the other Scuderi sisters to talk.

“Excited about making your wife bleed tonight?” Remo asked the moment she was out of earshot as he leaned back in his chair. I was surprised he’d bothered to wait until she couldn’t hear his words.

Leona’s eyes widened, and she looked up at Fabiano. “He’s referring to the tradition of the bloody sheets that the Famiglia still upholds. It requires the groom to present the sheets he and his bride spent the night on.”

Leona pursed her lips. “You are joking, right?”

“And they call us barbaric,” Remo said with a smirk. “But I have to tell you, I envy you your chance to spill some blood tonight. It’s been too long. I really want to kill someone.”

Fabiano rolled his eyes at Remo.

“When has there ever been a day without blood in our lives?” I asked.

Remo’s eyes tightened with an emotion I could not read. “True,” he said. “Remember, no taking her up against the wall or bent over the desk. Bloody sheets is what the dear Famiglia wants.” He raised his glass and took a sip of wine, but neither of us would get drunk today.

“Don’t worry. I will provide bloody sheets.”

Remo smiled twistedly. “I know you will.”

My eyes found my wife again. She was still talking to the Scuderi sisters but turned her gaze to me when she noticed my attention. She tensed and swallowed, the hand holding her glass shaking slightly.

Fearing me like she did, she’d probably bleed her second and third time as well. I knew how to please women with my hands, tongue, and cock, but even sexual skills had their limits when faced with terror.

When it was time for our first dance, I stood and Kiara came over to me, accepting my outstretched hand. I led her toward the center, and our guests gathered around us to watch. She allowed herself to look into my eyes for longer than she ever had. Fear and uncertainty flickered across her face. When she didn’t replace whatever it was she was looking for, she lowered her gaze back to my chest and swallowed hard. It must have been her way to suppress the fear.

I touched her lower back and pulled her against me. She made a small sound in the back of her throat, a strong sound of unease. I regarded her face. She was breathing faster and her cheeks had paled. This was only a mere dance. If this unsettled her, the consummation of our marriage would be particularly unpleasant. She wasn’t the type to fight, too dutiful and raised to please. She would yield to me, but it wouldn’t make things any easier for her.

Maybe words of consolation would have soothed her terror, but I wasn’t a man who comforted others.

The song ended. As was expected, Luca, the Capo who had given her to me, stepped up to take over. Kiara didn’t soften. She was as scared of dancing with him as she was of me. I forced myself to release her. She wasn’t in danger. This was a dance. There was no reason to make it out to be more.

I turned to Aria. Luca narrowed his eyes at me. I ignored his unreasonable reaction and held out my hand to his wife. She took it and gave me a smile. She was a good actress. If it hadn’t been for the slight tension in her fingers and the acceleration of her pulse, I might have believed her expression.

Pulling her against me, we began to dance. She was easy to steer, took my lead, and kept up a pleasant smile.

“You have Fabiano’s eyes.”

Her gaze flew up to mine, and her expression faltered. “He is my brother. Even if you made him believe something else.”

“We didn’t make him believe anything,” I corrected. “We taught him that blood doesn’t define your loyalties.”

“You turned him into—”

“Into what? A killer? A torturer?”

She sighed.

“Every man in this room is a killer, and the boys are on their way to becoming one.” And from what I knew of Luca, he definitely was one of the cruelest men in our circles, but Aria probably had limited knowledge when it came to her husband’s business habits.

“This isn’t wedding talk,” she said. “I hope this wedding will allow us to replace peace, and I hope your brother will allow Fabiano to be close to his blood family.”

“It’s up to Fabiano, but he is with the Camorra now. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t, trust me,” she said sharply. Her eyes followed her husband and my wife as they danced. Kiara was stiff in Luca’s hold.

“Kiara is very tense around men,” I said.

Aria frowned. “Most women are tense on their wedding day.”

“They are?”

She gave me a look, but I couldn’t read it. “Men,” she said under her breath. It had nothing to do with me being male, but I didn’t elaborate. “For a bride, a wedding night holds quite a bit of terror.”

“Fear of the unknown is common, but it is only the joining of two bodies. Nothing to be fearful of.”

Aria blinked up at me. “Perhaps for you, but Kiara might disagree, like any other woman, especially considering who she has to join bodies with.”

“I am more than capable of fulfilling my duties as a husband.”

“I don’t doubt that you can go through with it. The Camorra is notorious after all.” She grimaced. “It’s not my business.”

But her voice made it clear that she wanted it to be her business. “It’s not. You are right,” I drawled. A truce didn’t mean Remo or I would allow the Famiglia to meddle in our business.

When the last notes of the song faded, she rushed to say, “Her father hit her before he was killed. That might explain her problem with men. But I think there might be more …”

“More?”

She stepped back. “Thank you for the dance.” She turned and moved toward Luca, who was waiting for her at the edge of the dance floor. Kiara had already been handed off to Felix.

I moved toward Remo, who stood beside Fabiano close to the buffet. As my oldest brother, it would be his turn to dance with Kiara after her Uncle Felix. I grabbed his arm, and he raised his dark eyebrows.

“Try to scare her as little as possible.”

“I can be pleasant and gentlemanly if I try,” he said.

Fabiano laughed. “Sorry, Remo, but that’s the best joke I heard in a while.”

“What am I supposed to do to set your little wife at ease?” he asked, but his eyes followed a young woman who walked past us. I really hoped he wouldn’t try anything with one of the Famiglia’s women.

I was the wrong person to ask. “I don’t know.”

We glanced at Leona who flushed. “Perhaps smile?”

Remo’s mouth pulled into a smile.

“I have seen hyenas with less unsettling smiles,” Fabiano muttered, and Leona choked on her laughter and buried her face against his arm. The song ended, and Remo pulled free of my grip, heading for Kiara, who looked like a lamb facing off with a butcher.

Giulia surprised me when she asked for a dance. I was fairly sure that wasn’t how things were usually handled, but I led her toward the dance floor and pulled her against me. Her husband watched us from his spot beside Luca at the buffet. They were both tall and muscled and shared a similar disposition for brutal leadership … if rumors were to be believed.

“I don’t know if you are even capable of such a thing, but I ask you to be kind to Kiara.”

I glanced down at Giulia. “You ask me?” I said with raised eyebrows.

She frowned. “If you have a heart, please don’t hurt her.”

“I was told there’s no way around hurting a woman in her first night.”

Her eyes filled with tears but her expression looked angry. “You know what I mean!”

“Kiara is my wife, a grown woman, and from this day on she’s part of the Camorra. She isn’t your concern,” I said in a warning tone.

Giulia tensed but didn’t say anymore. The second the music was over I released her, and she returned to her husband while I went back to my brothers and Fabiano.

KIARA

Remo Falcone headed my way, and it took considerable effort not to run. His eyes were almost black like his hair. There was something in his face that spoke of unbridled violence, and that wasn’t because of the scar trailing from his brow down his temple to his cheekbone. He held out his hand with a twisted pull of his mouth. It was reminiscent of how a lion regarded a gazelle.

His palm and fingers were littered with scars and burns.

“You are supposed to take my hand so we can dance,” he said in what I assumed was annoyance.

Suppressing a shudder, I slipped my hand into his. I didn’t look up into his face. It would have been my undoing. His fingers closed around my hand with less pressure than I had expected, and his other hand gently touched my back and pulled me against him. My body clenched, my breathing caught in my throat. I had to hold in a gasp. He led me along to the music, but my trembling didn’t make it easy for him. He tightened his hold on me, bringing us closer, and I exhaled sharply at the feel of his hard body against mine.

My fingers on his bicep began slipping as I fought against the impending panic attack.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

I couldn’t.

“Look at me.” A low murmur full of command, and I finally met his gaze. His expression wasn’t angry, more assessing, as if he was sizing me up. “This is dancing. Don’t make it into something more than that because you let your imagination run free.”

I was momentarily startled. He sounded a lot like Nino; maybe he hid his intelligence behind his layers of violence.

“Now pretend you are a happy bride. This is a day of celebration,” he said, and his own lips formed a scary smile.

I tried my best to relax in his hold, to make my face look pleasant, but I wasn’t sure if I succeeded. I counted the seconds till the end of the song, but when it finally ended, Uncle Durant appeared at our side and terror from the past took hold of me. I dug my nails into Remo, clinging to him, undoubtedly leaving marks with my fingernails.

“I would like to dance with my niece now,” Uncle Durant said to Remo, but his eyes were on me, full of knowledge and triumph as always.

He hadn’t touched me since those nights. I clutched Remo tightly, looking up at him. His dark eyes regarded me, narrowing ever so slightly. Please don’t let me dance with him. The words didn’t leave my mouth. Durant reached for me, but Remo angled us so he was between my uncle and me.

Remo turned his gaze to my uncle, but he didn’t let go of me. “I can’t allow that unfortunately. My brother wants her back at his side.”

“It’s tradition in the Famiglia,” Uncle Durant said. “Maybe you don’t care about traditions over in Vegas, but here we do.”

Remo’s lips pulled wider, and I realized then that his smiles for me had been genuine; he was being nice. This smile had a sinister feel to it. “We honor our traditions as well. In Vegas, it’s tradition that I cut out the tongues of people who annoy the fuck out of me. If you insist on your traditions, I will have to insist on mine. And your tongue will look good in my collection.”

Uncle Durant’s face turned red. His angry gaze settled on me briefly, and I pressed into Remo, but then my uncle moved away.

“You can release me now,” Remo muttered.

I unfastened my hold and stepped back, ashamed. Remo held onto my hand, not allowing me to go. His thumb pressed against my wrist in a similar way like Nino had.

“What was that?” Remo asked in a low, dangerous voice.

“Nothing. I don’t like him.”

“That was not dislike, Kiara,” he said, still in that terrifying voice. His fingers pressed harder into my wrist. I risked a peek at him. His eyes were narrowed at me, as if he could see into the deepest, darkest corners of my soul. “Dislike wouldn’t have made you seek protection in my arms, trust me.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me. I am your Capo now.”

Nothing would make me reveal my secret, not even Remo’s terrifying scowl. “I didn’t ask for your protection,” I whispered.

He stepped closer, and I cringed. “You begged me for protection. Unlike Nino, I have no trouble reading your emotions.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant.

“You didn’t have to protect me. I’m not your responsibility.”

“You are a Falcone now. My brother’s wife. You fall under my rule. That makes you mine to protect.”

He tightened his grip on my wrist, ignoring my flinching, and dragged me off the dance floor toward Nino, who raised his eyebrows at his brother. Remo practically shoved me into Nino’s arm. Despite my tension, Nino wrapped an arm around my waist and left it there. “That was her last dance with anyone but us,” Remo ordered. “I don’t give a fuck about their traditions. She is under our rule now.”

Nino narrowed his eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Remo said. “But her family is starting to piss me off.”

Nino glanced between his brother and me but didn’t say anymore. After that, I didn’t have to dance again.