Twisted Loyalties (The Camorra Chronicles Book 1)
Twisted Loyalties: Chapter 12

“Then what did?”

That question threatened to unravel me. “I don’t know,” I admitted. I looked down at the scars on Fabiano’s chest, at the tattoo on his wrist, appraised the confident way he held himself. Pride and honor. He oozed it. His body was a testament to his convictions, to how far he’d come. And I?

I let out a small, empty laugh. “Hope for the future kept me going. I was a good student and I worked hard. I thought I’d have a bright future after high school. I thought I’d go to college, get a law degree, and become something more than the daughter of a…” I swallowed the word ‘whore’, not able to admit the truth to Fabiano. “…drug addict. But I’m failing.”

Fabiano’s face still showed no pity and I was glad for it. There was something dark and fierce in his eyes. “If you don’t fight for what you want, you won’t get it. People like us don’t get their wishes handed on a platter to them.”

How could he compare us? He was strong and successful, admittedly not in the conventional sense. But he had what he longed for. The Camorra was his passion. “You are a born fighter. I am not.”

“I wasn’t born a fighter. I was formed into one by the shit thrown my way over the years, Leona.”

I wanted to ask him about his past, but he was always so cautious when he mentioned anything related to it. I let out a breath. He leaned over, cupped the back of my head and kissed me. I sunk into the kiss. I needed it now, needed to feel something other than desperation. His tongue danced with mine and his scent engulfed me. I closed my eyes, allowing my body to relax. He pulled back. “I will fight your battles for you now, Leona. I told you I’d protect you.”

And I nodded, as if my approval meant anything. Fabiano’s overwhelming presence, his unrelenting possessiveness, they were something I’d never encountered before. My parents had never displayed any kind of excessive emotion toward me. I had been an afterthought for them. Sometimes useful, sometimes bothersome, never something to waste too much energy on.

Deep down I knew Fabiano’s attention would come with a price. I’d pay for surrendering to him in one way or another. But right in this moment I couldn’t care less.

I got out of the car, my legs shaky. I could feel Fabiano’s gaze on me all the way until I disappeared in the apartment. I leaned back against the door and released a breath. It felt as if he’d laid me bare without touching me, as if he knew my deepest desires, my darkest fears.

That day I functioned on automode. Cheryl didn’t say anything but I could tell that she wanted to.

Fabiano was waiting for me when I got off at two thirty. He didn’t start the car at once as usual. His eyes darted down to the modest black heels I was wearing, then over the blue dress. Both weren’t anything special and had been on sale, but they were new. I’d bought them this afternoon before work to cheer myself up.

“I want to show you where I live,” Fabiano said simply.

The tiredness fell off me. “Okay.”

I wasn’t sure what else to say. This seemed like a very personal thing, like another level in our…what? Relationship? It was difficult to put a label on it. But I had a feeling that Fabiano didn’t take many people to his apartment. He seemed like someone who kept his private space well protected. Like he’d said, he didn’t like to share, and that he wanted to share his apartment with me, if only for a few hours made me happy. At the same time, however, I knew that being alone in his apartment, with a bedroom at our disposal, opened up new possibilities in our physical relationship I wasn’t sure I was ready for mentally. My body was a different matter anyhow.

His blue eyes regarded me for a few heartbeats, perhaps reconsidering his decision.

As we drove, we passed familiar sites like the Venitian and the Bellagio, and I wondered if I’d ever manage to get a job in a place that was even half as good. Maybe Fabiano could have helped me. He knew more than enough people in Las Vegas, and I didn’t even want to know how many good hotels and restaurants were owned or controlled by the Camorra. But I didn’t want to ask him for that kind of favor. I could only imagine how many people tried to gain something from knowing him. I didn’t want to be like that.

Silence filled the space between us. The soft hum of the engine beckoned me to fall asleep and I wondered if agreeing to go to his apartment that late at night would be a mistake. Perhaps Fabiano expected me to spend the night with him.

My thoughts were cut short when we pulled up in front of a sleek skyscraper and drove down into an underground parking garage.

“No villa in the suburbs with a park-like garden for you?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t give away my nerves.

He grimaced. “I prefer to live in the center of life. The suburbs are for families.”

We got out of his car. The clean, new smell of the parking garage with dozens of luxury cars already made me feel out of place. Even new clothes couldn’t change that. My heels clicked on the white marble of the elevator as we got in. Fabiano’s hand on my lower back was already oddly familiar. He pressed the button for the top floor and the elevator began its silent ascend. Fabiano didn’t say anything. Perhaps he was having second thoughts about bringing me to his home.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors glided open soundlessly. A long corridor with a plush beige carpet and cream-colored walls with golden ornaments stretched before us. Fabiano led me toward a dark wooden door at the end of it, which seemed to be the only door on this floor except for an emergency exit.

My stomach fluttered with nerves when he opened the door wide for me. I stepped past him into his apartment and the moment the light came on, I froze.

I’d never seen luxury like that before. We stood in the entrance area, which was on a higher level than the living area, the high ceilings were supported by marble columns. I stepped down the three steps, my heels loud on the smooth marble. I wished I’d worn the shoes Fabiano had bought for me, and not the one’s I’d gotten for half-price at Target today.

The marbled floor was held in black and white, and laid out in geometrical design. Four white couches surrounded an enormous low black marble table. And above the seating area, a huge lamp that looked like a ginormous silver ball of wool hung down from the two story high ceiling. To the left there was a dining table that could seat at least sixteen people. Like the floor it was made from black marble. Further to the left there was the open kitchen with its white fronts. But my eyes were drawn back to the living area and the floor to ceiling windows. A huge terrace with white columns was outside, and overlooked the Strip with its illuminated skyscrapers and flashing lights.

I hesitated, not sure if I was allowed to wander around.

Fabiano made an inviting gesture and I walked toward the windows and looked out. Now I could see that the white columns surrounded a long square pool that glowed in turquoise light in the dark.

Fabiano opened the terrace door for me and I stepped out. Walking past the pool, I stopped at the balustrade. Down below, I could see the Strip with the Eiffel Tower. I breathed in deeply, stunned by the sight and the apartment. I didn’t dare ask what it had cost. Crime paid off, if done right. My parents had never figured the right way to do it, though.

Fabiano came up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. He kissed my shoulder, then upwards to my ear. The familiar tingling filled my body as I leaned into him. I didn’t want to push him back, didn’t want to consider how it might make me look being alone in an apartment with him at night. I just wanted to be, wanted to relish in the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.

“This is incredible,” I whispered. I could imagine living here, could easily imagine enjoying it. I’d never considered myself a girl who longed for these kinds of things, but I’d never before been surrounded by them.

He hummed his approval, then nudged my hair away from my throat. He kissed the skin over my pulse point, then gently bit down. I shivered at the possessive gesture. His mouth moved lower and he licked over my collarbone. His hands moved from my waist up to my ribcage, the pressure light and yet almost overwhelming. His presence, our surroundings, the possibilities of what might happen next were a tidal wave toying me around. “Fabiano,” I said uncertainly, but my voice died away when his hands cupped my breasts through the fabric of my dress. Only once had a guy groped at my breast, and it had been painful and disgusting, and I had pushed him off and thrown up afterward.

Fabiano’s touch was soft and yet it sent spikes of sensation through the rest of my body. I could feel my nipples harden, and I knew he would feel it against his palms. Embarrassment fought with need in my body. I’d never wanted to be intimate with someone. Physical closeness had always been associated with bad things for me. Watching my mother sell her body had made me wary of allowing a man to get close. I’d dreamed of falling in love and eventually making love. But Fabiano didn’t believe in love, and I wasn’t sure if I did anymore either. Perhaps I’d have to settle for less. It wasn’t the first time in my life. Being with Fabiano made me feel seen and protected. That was more than I’d had in a long time. God, and it scared me, because I knew how easily it could be taken from me.

His palms slid up to my shoulders and he began pushing my dress down. My stomach tightened with anticipation and fear when the fabric gave in and pooled around my waist. The cool breeze touched my skin and my thin bra didn’t protect me – neither from the night’s cold, nor from Fabiano’s hungry gaze. No one had ever looked at me like that. I closed my eyes.

Fabiano

Goose bumps flashed across Leona’s smooth skin and the outline of her erect nipples strained against the thin fabric of her bra. My cock hardened at the tantalizing sight. Fuck. I wanted her, wanted to posses her. I ran my fingers over her ribcage, then up to the edge of her bra. It wasn’t spectacular, nothing pricy made from lace or silk, and yet she made it seem like the sexiest garment in the world. Her body tensed under my touch, not with eagerness. I regarded her face, her closed eyes, the way she was biting down on her lower lip and her lashes were fluttering. She was nervous and scared. I wondered what had her feeling that way. I definitely hadn’t given her reason to be scared of me, which was surprising in itself. I leaned down to her ear. “Have you ever been with a man?”

I knew the answer. I was too good at reading body language and people in general not to know, but I wanted to hear it. I was fucking eager to have her admit it.

She shuddered, and gave a small shake of her head.

“Say it,” I ordered.

Her eyelashes fluttered open. “No. I haven’t been with a man.”

I kissed her throat. “So I will be your first.” My cock twitched in eagerness.

“I won’t sleep with you tonight, Fabiano,” she whispered.

I straightened, stunned by the words. Her expression showed mostly resolve but there was a flicker of uncertainty as well. “I’m not used to waiting. For anything.”

She didn’t move away from me, her back still pressed against my chest, my fingers still on her ribcage. It heaved under my touch. One deep breath and her spine straightened. “Some things are worth waiting for.”

“And you are one of them?” I asked.

She looked away, out toward the city lights. Her lashes fluttered again, but this time to keep the tears contained in her eyes. “I don’t know.”

The words were so quiet, the wind almost carried them off before they reached my ears.

For a moment I felt like smashing the world, like burning down everything. I wanted to go after her father and see the life drain from his veins slowly. I wanted to replace her mother, and cut her throat, see her sputter on her own blood. These emotions were foreign, not because of their brutality or fierceness, but because they were on behalf of a woman. I’d had bouts of protectiveness when I was younger, toward my sisters; before they’d left me and before I’d become the man I was today.

I traced my fingers down her ribs, then slid my arms around her stomach. She shivered. “Let’s go inside, you are cold.”

Her eyes searched mine, curiously, hopefully. When she didn’t replace what she was looking for, she nodded slowly and let me lead her inside. The wonder returned to her expression as she took in the living area. I’d spent most of my life in luxury, had taken it for granted most of the time, until it had been ripped from me. But she had never had anything close to it. I pulled her against me, her nipples pressed up against my ribs. “Stay with me tonight.”

Her eyes widened, then she gave one frantic shake of her head. “I told you, I won’t sleep with you.”

Not tonight, but soon. Leona might still believe she could evade me, but she was mine. “I know,” I said in a low voice, then slid my hands over her back.

She relaxed, then tensed as if remembering herself. “Then why? Why have me spend the night if there’s nothing in it for you?”

Fuck, if I knew.

“Stay,” I said again, an order this time. She looked up at me, fearful for all the wrong reasons.

“Okay,” she breathed, resigned and tired. She’d had a long day. Working at Roger’s Arena couldn’t be easy. I lifted her into my arms. She didn’t protest, as if she’d realized it was a losing battle. I carried her toward the stairs. She leaned her cheek against my chest, whispering. “Please don’t hurt me. I don’t think I can handle it.”

I paused with my foot on the first step, glancing down at her crown of amber curls. It wasn’t meant the way people usually begged me not to hurt them, I could tell. It would have been easier if it were. I wasn’t sure I could not hurt her. I was dragging her into a world where the things she longed for where even less attainable than in the hopeless life she was used to.

Her breathing had flattened. Had she fallen asleep?

She shouldn’t have, not in the arms of a man like me. Her trust was foolish and completely unfounded. I ascended the stairs and entered my bedroom. I never brought anyone here. I put Leona down on my bed and she didn’t wake. I allowed myself to regard her. Her narrow hips, her round breasts barely hidden from view by the sheer fabric of her bra, the outline of her pussy under her panties. I raked a hand through my hair. Women were supposed to be entertainment and pleasant distraction. So far Leona was neither of those things, but I couldn’t allow her to be anything else. My life was dedicated to the Camorra, my loyalties belonged only to them. It couldn’t be any other way. I got out of my clothes and stretched out beside Leona in my briefs. I watched her as she slept beside me peacefully. Never had a woman slept in my bed. I’d never seen the appeal. And I still could think of many more entertaining things to do with Leona than sleep but watching her peaceful expression gave me a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in a long time, perhaps ever.

I curled my arm over her hip protectively and allowed myself to close my eyes. As I listened to her rhythmic breathing, I began to drift off.

I woke with Leona’s body curled into me, one of her legs intertwined with mine, her breathing fluttering against my bare chest. I’d never woken up beside a woman, never not minded that kind of physical closeness. Closeness was reserved for sex, and then it was a very different kind of closeness.

I carefully untangled myself from her, and she turned on her back, the blankets pooling at her hips. Her face was relaxed, no sign that she was going to wake.

She was supposed to be fun.

That was all Remo would ever allow.

Fun.

I brushed my thumb over the small nub straining against her bra. It grew under my touch. Leona’s lips parted but she didn’t wake. I wasn’t a good man, nothing close to it, and it was time I stopped acting like I was, like I could be. The bracelet Aria had given me was stuffed inside my sock drawer, and it would stay there.

I trapped her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and began moving it back and forth slowly, feeling it harden even more. Leona shifted her legs. Was she feeling it between her perfect thighs? I tugged, and she let out a low moan. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened sleepily and found me. Surprise and shock flashed across her face. I tugged at her nipple once more and her lips fell open with a gasp. My eyes on her face, daring her to stop me, I lowered my mouth to her breast and cupped her nipple with my lips, and sucked it lightly through the fabric. That stopped any protest she might have had in mind. I watched her hooded eyes as I sucked harder.

I slid a finger over the edge of her bra and tugged it down, revealing the pink nub. “Fabiano,” she said hesitantly but I didn’t allow her time for more words. I swirled my tongue around her nipple, then pulled back to watch Leona press her legs together. She tasted amazing, like clean sweat and something sweeter. I lowered my mouth again, traced the tip of my tongue around the edge of her nipple, then slid to the center and nudged, then licked her nub with languid strokes of my tongue. I sucked the small pink nipple into my mouth, relishing in the taste and Leona’s shivers. She moaned again.

If playing with her tits made her come undone, I couldn’t wait to dip my tongue between her silky folds.

I took my time with her nipple, wanting her to beg me for release. She ground her hips into the mattress in obvious need but didn’t say the words I wanted to hear. My erection was rubbing painfully against the fabric of my briefs, driving me almost insane.

Done with being patient, I brushed my palm up her inner thigh. Her muscles tensed under my touch but she didn’t stop me. I held her gaze as my fingers brushed the crook between her thigh and pussy. Still no sign of protest. Instead she opened her legs a bit wider, trust in her eyes.

Damn it, Leona.

I claimed her mouth for a fierce kiss and slipped my fingers under her panties, and over her soft folds. She was so fucking aroused, so fucking ready to have me take her. Her body was practically begging for it, but that fucking trusting look in her eyes ruined it all. I ran my thumb up slowly until I brushed her clit. She bit her lip, hips rising up from the bed. I kept my eyes on her face, relishing in the twitches of pleasure, the wonder at how I could make her feel with the simple touch of my thumb. The trust in her eyes anchored me, and I needed it to, because my body wanted more than she was willing to give, and the darkest parts of me knew nothing would stop me. And these parts were almost all that was left of me. It had been years since that part of me hadn’t run the show. My thumb moved in slow circles over her wet flesh, and her gasps and moans became less controlled. She clutched my arm, and I kissed her hard, swallowing her cry as she tumbled over the edge. Her eyes fell shut as she shuddered, and for the briefest moment, I considered breaking my promise and breaking whatever dangerous tie was building between us. Then she looked up at me, shy and embarrassed and guilty, and I knew it was too fucking late for that.