The Camorra Chronicles Boxset (Books 1-3)

by Reilly, Cora

  I shivered, overcome with sensations.

  Remo kissed my cheek. “Can I?”

  I gave a nod and he pulled almost all the way out. I trembled as he pushed back in. He kept working my pussy as he thrust into me slowly.

  “It’ll get better, Angel,” he murmured.

  His movements became faster, and I bit down on my lip. Pain and pleasure mingled, almost becoming one. Remo’s body pressed me into the mattress as his cock and fingers claimed me.

  With a guttural groan, Remo slammed into me one more time, and I felt his release. I shuddered desperately under him. Remo stayed inside of me for a couple of heartbeats, his breath hot on my shoulder, his fingers gentle, almost soothing on my clit.

  He pulled out of me carefully then turned me on my side and pressed up behind me, kissing my shoulder. I couldn’t move, overwhelmed, stunned. Every time I thought Remo had taken everything, he took another part of me.

  “Angel?” he asked in a low voice.

  I turned around in his embrace and nestled close to him, my nose buried in the crook of his neck. Remo tensed and gripped my chin, nudging my face up. I could see a hint of hesitation on his face as he evaluated my expression.

  “You will never surrender to my will because you think I want you to. Was it too painful?”

  I glanced up, swallowing hard. Remo was concerned for me. Cruel, merciless, brutal to the very core, and yet concerned for me. “I wanted to surrender to you, to give myself to you like that. You already own every other part of me.”

  His brows pulled together even further. He traced my face with his finger. “I don’t enjoy hurting you unless it heightens your pleasure.”

  I tilted my head. “You sound surprised.”

  “I enjoy hurting people, but not you, never you.”

  I fell silent, wondering what it meant. Remo pushed up and reached over me and into the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out a small parcel then set it down between us. “For you,” he said.

  My eyebrows rose. He hadn’t given me a present earlier, but I had assumed the gifts for Greta and Nevio had been meant for me as well. It had been difficult enough to get something for Remo. Eventually I’d opted for a guide of running trails of the region as well as a quickly assembled photo book from our twin’s first seven months.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it,” Remo demanded, fingertips tracing my side and hip.

  I lifted the lid and my breath stilled as my eyes registered the necklace with the pendant in the shape of wings. It was a beautiful piece of finely worked gold-smithing. Intricately gorgeous. I took it out carefully.

  “Where did you get it? You didn’t leave the house.”

  “I had it handcrafted by a local goldsmith shortly after I released you.”

  My lips fell open in surprise. Remo helped me put the necklace on, and the cool gold settled in the valley between my breasts. “Ruinously gorgeous,” Remo murmured as he traced my skin.

  I gave him a curious look.

  “You ruined me for all other women.”

  A wave of possessiveness overcame me. Remo was mine.

  REMO

  I watched Serafina as she stroked the heads of our children, patient, loving, even though they both had been crying on and off for hours. She sang to them, whispered words of sweet nothings to them. She had left her family for them so they would be safe, so they would get the life they deserved, the life they were destined for. I had seen the look in her eyes when she’d said goodbye to her twin. Serafina had given up so much for our children.

  Her body was weaker than mine. She wasn’t as harsh or cruel or fearless.

  But God she was strong.

  When Nevio and Greta had finally fallen asleep, she straightened from where she’d been bent over their crib and when she noticed me, she tensed slightly but came toward me. She’d been oddly quiet today, and I knew something was bothering her, but I didn’t talk emotions if I could help it.

  Serafina stopped in the hallway. “I’ve been here for three weeks, but I still don’t know what we are.”

  I braced myself beside her shoulders, peering down at her. “You are an angel, and I’m your ruin.” My lips pulled into a wry smile.

  She shook her head almost angrily. “What am I to you? Your lover? Your girlfriend? A nice change from your usual whores?”

  My own anger spiked. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Nothing,” she said quietly. “I want the truth. I need to know what to expect from you.”

  “I love death. I love spilling blood and causing pain. I love to see terror in people’s eyes, and that won’t ever change,” I whispered harshly because it was true.

  She looked up at me. “You are the cruelest man I know. You took everything from me.”

  I nodded because that was true as well. “Few women can bear the darkness. I can’t ... I won’t force you to be with me. You are free.”

  “Free to do as I please,” she murmured, warm and soft against me. Tantalizing. “Even take another man into my bed?”

  A burst of rage filled me. I wanted her for myself, wanted to remain the only man who’d ever tasted those perfect lips, who’d ever claimed her, but more than that I wanted her to want it too. I swallowed my fury. “Even that,” I said then continued in a harsh whisper, “I won’t stop you. I won’t punish you for it.”

  She smiled a knowing smile. “But you will kill anyone who touches me.”

  I brought our lips close. “Not just kill them, obliterate them in the cruelest way possible for touching something they are unworthy of.”

  Challenge flickered in her eyes. “Are you worthy?”

  I claimed her mouth, hard and desperate, before pulling back. “Oh no, Angel. From the day I saw you, I knew I was the least worthy of them all.” I should have never laid a hand on her, but I was a fucking bastard and had taken everything she was willing to give.

  She tilted her head up, regarding me. She opened my shirt slowly, one button after the other, and it gave way under those elegant fingers. She rested her palm against my chest, over my heart. “Is there something in there capable of love?”

  My fucking chest constricted. “Whatever’s in there, it’s yours. Whatever love I’m capable of, it’s yours too.”

  She cupped my face, her eyes fierce, almost brutal in their intensity. “You are beyond redemption, Remo,” she whispered, and I smiled bitterly because I knew it.

  She shook her head. “But so am I because even free to do as I please, I choose you. I’m no angel. An angel wouldn’t love a man like you, but I do. I love you.” And she kissed me harshly, brutally, all rage and love, and I kissed her back with the same love, the same rage.

  This woman had stolen my black heart. From the first moment I saw her, I wanted to own her. At first to destroy the Outfit and Dante then later because it became an irresistible need, a voracious longing. And in the end, Serafina was the one who owned me, black heart, condemned soul, scarred body.

  Every fucking part of me was hers, and if she’d let me, I’d be hers till my last day.

  SERAFINA

  My heart burned with emotions. Fiercely. Remo had declared his love for me. Something I’d never considered a possibility.

  This cruel man owned my heart, and I didn’t want it any other way.

  Remo’s kiss was violent, harsh. Then he pulled back. “Marry me.”

  I froze. It had been an order. Remo wasn’t a man who asked for anything. I leaned back against the wall slowly, searching his eyes.

  He didn’t let me retreat. He kissed me again but gentler. “Marry me, Angel.”

  It still wasn’t a question, but his voice wasn’t dominant anymore. It was soft, compelling, raw. “Become a Falcone?” I murmured against his lips.

  “Become a Falcone. Become mine.”

  I smiled. “I have been yours for a long time.”

  “Is that a yes?” he asked, his hand sliding over my outer thigh, stroking, distracting me.

  “Yes,
” I whispered.

  “Serafina Falcone,” he murmured. “I like the sound of it.”

  I smiled because this name sounded right, more right than Mancini ever had.

  Was this love? Was this madness? I didn’t care. It was perfection either way.

  CHAPTER 31

  SERAFINA

  I was inexplicably nervous when Remo told me he wanted to announce our wedding to his brothers and Kiara the next day. We’d all gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Nevio on Kiara’s lap and Greta on mine.

  “You have a new wedding to look forward to,” Remo said without warning.

  Every pair of eyes darted from him then to me. My cheeks flushed. I wasn’t sure what Savio and Nino thought of the situation. Adamo and Kiara liked me, but the other two ...

  “Will we be allowed to kidnap someone? Or at least spill some blood? Since you sampled the goods before, bloody sheets won’t happen after all,” Savio drawled, grinning.

  Remo reached over the table and hit him over the head. Savio only chuckled.

  “Be careful I don’t spill your blood.”

  Adamo smiled at me then rolled his eyes at Savio.

  Kiara got up, handing Nevio to Remo so she could hug me. “I’m so happy.”

  Savio and Nino definitely didn’t look unhappy, but their reaction wasn’t as enthusiastic as Kiara’s or Adamo’s, not that I had expected it to be.

  When Savio got up to take a call, I followed after him but waited until he was done before I approached him. He eyed me curiously when he noticed me. He didn’t look like a teenager anymore, especially now that he was sporting stubble.

  “Are we good?” I asked.

  “If you’re talking about the soup incident, that’s forgotten. Trust me, most people want to do worse to me, especially women, so I’ve learned not to hold grudges.” He shrugged. “And we were the ones who held you captive, so you have more reason to be pissed.”

  “True. But my family kidnapped your younger brother and almost killed your oldest, so I guess we’re even?”

  Savio’s expression tightened briefly at the mention of my family and my own stomach churned painfully. “You are part of our family now. I don’t give a fuck about the past. Just make sure you don’t break Remo’s fucking heart.”

  “Do you think that’s a possibility?” I teased.

  His dark brows drew together. “Before you, I’d have bet my balls against it. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if Remo had something resembling a heart.”

  “He loves you.”

  Savio looked away, obviously uncomfortable. “We are brothers. We’ll die for each other.”

  I smiled.

  “We should return,” Savio muttered. “I don’t want Remo to think we’re getting it on behind his back.”

  I snorted. “Sorry, Savio, nothing against you, but you don’t stand a chance.”

  Savio gave me an arrogant smile. “You like what you see, admit it.” He sauntered back into the kitchen before I could shoot something back. But for some reason his insufferable ego was almost endearing. It reminded me a bit of Samuel, which was consoling and painful at the same time.

  After my conversation with Savio, I felt better. Now I only needed to straighten out things with Nino. He and I had never really warmed up to each other, and I wasn’t sure if it was because Nino didn’t like me or if it was because of his nature.

  Remo leaned in when I sat down beside him. “Did he behave?”

  Savio rolled his eyes at his brother.

  “He tried,” I said.

  “That’s all I can hope for. Maybe they’ll try your patience as they do mine.”

  “Raising twins will teach you the patience of a saint. I doubt your brothers can test me.”

  “We’ll see,” Savio said with a chuckle. “And don’t hold your breath. Remo won’t reach sainthood anytime soon.”

  “I don’t want him to be a saint,” I said, looking at Nevio and Remo, both watching me with those impossibly dark eyes.

  After breakfast, I asked Nino if we could talk. We headed into the garden despite Remo’s suspicious expression.

  “Do you disapprove of our wedding?”

  Nino assessed me without a flicker of emotion. “No. I never considered marriage an option for Remo, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s a good thing. It was for me despite my own reluctance in regards to marriage.”

  I nodded. “You never seemed to like me much.”

  “It was never a matter of dislike, Serafina. You were our captive, the enemy, and I didn’t want Remo to lose himself in his game. I thought it wouldn’t work. But I was wrong. You saved him.”

  “I couldn’t let my family kill him.”

  Nino shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

  I waited, watching Nino’s profile as he stared off into the distance.

  “Remo and I, we are messed up in ways that can’t be fixed, not really. For someone to accept us despite what we are, it takes a lot of forgiveness and love. Our past ... it broke certain parts of us.”

  “Remo never talks about the past.”

  Nino nodded. “He’ll tell you eventually. Give him time.”

  “We have all our lives.”

  REMO

  I held Serafina in my arms after sex, my chest pressed up to her back, my nose buried in her soft hair, relishing in her sweet scent. She traced the scars on my palm. She did it often. In the beginning it had bothered me because it was a part of me I didn’t share with anyone except for Nino.

  “I was ten,” I began then stopped because even with Nino I’d never discussed what had happened. Words had always seemed lacking to convey our shared horrors. The smell of blood filled my nose as it always did when I remembered that day. Soon the stench of burning fabric and skin joined the metallic tang.

  Serafina’s fingers on my palm had stilled. “I love you no matter what. I’ve heard of every horror you committed, and I’m still here.”

  She was. I could imagine what kinds of stories were whispered in the Outfit and they were all true. And Serafina had experienced a small part of our nature when I’d captured her, when I’d cut her. Looking at the faded white scar, I still felt a fucking twinge in my chest. I brushed aside her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. That she found it in her heart to love me despite it all, that she trusted me with our children, it seemed impossible.

  “I know what I am. But my father, he was monstrous in a different way. He enjoyed torturing the people he was meant to protect, just as much as he did his enemies, maybe even more. My mother loved and feared him equally, and she allowed him to humiliate and torture her because of it. Allowed him to do the same to us. Love made her weak.”

  Serafina gave a small shake of her head. “Real love doesn’t make you weak. Love how it’s meant to be makes you stronger. But there’s no room for fear where there’s love.”

  I tightened my hold around her. “Don’t you fear me?”

  “I used to, but not anymore and never again.”

  I rested my forehead against her hair. Very few people didn’t fear me. My brothers and maybe Kiara, and that was what I wanted, what I worked for. “Eventually she hated my father more than she loved him, and she decided to punish him in the only way she thought she could.”

  I closed my eyes, remembering that day.

  Mother came into my bedroom in her long nightgown, which was straining over her belly. She never brought us to bed or said goodnight, so I tensed when I saw her in the doorway. I’d gotten me and my brothers ready for bed while she lay on the sofa, staring at nothing.

  “Remo, my boy, can you come with me?”

  I narrowed my eyes. She sounded too caring, too loving. My boy? She sounded like a mother. She smiled and I took a hesitant step forward, more hopeful than suspicious.

  “Nino and Savio are already in my room.”

  That convinced me. I followed her toward her bedroom. For a second I considered slipping my hand in hers, but she had never held my hand like that and I
was too old now. The moment I stepped inside the bedroom, she threw the door shut and closed us in. My eyes registered Nino kneeling on the floor, cradling his arm. Everything was red. Rivulets of red trailed down his arms, his wrists gaping open. His eyes locked on mine. He wasn’t making a sound, only crying as he bled. Blood. Everywhere. It clogged my nose.

  I frantically looked for Savio and found him motionless on the bed. A cry wedged itself into my throat until I noticed the rise and fall of his chest. Not gone.

  Mother stepped in front of me and grabbed my arm. Silver flashed before my eyes and I jerked. My hands and face burned as the blade cut me. I hit and clawed and roared, fighting her off. And then she stopped and the smell of smoke filled the room. The curtains were burning. We’d burn. We’d all burn. Nino began to hum, rocking back and forth, pale and sweaty.

  I rushed toward the window. Outside I heard the shouts of my father’s men. I ripped at the curtains and flames licked at my palms and neck and arms, snatching hungrily at my skin. I screamed as I broke the window. I helped Nino out then grabbed Savio and jumped out of the window with him in my arms. Bones broke and I burned all over. Agony, pure and overwhelming. Staring up at the window, I saw our mother’s crying desperate face amidst the smoke and flame. Crying because I’d taken her revenge from her, because I hadn’t died with my brothers as we were supposed to. I wanted her to burn, wanted her gone from our life. I wanted her dead.

  Serafina was quiet when I finished. She swallowed. “How can a mother do that to their children? I’d die for Greta and Nevio. I’d never hurt them. And if you ever hurt them, Remo, I’ll kill you. That’s a promise.”

  “I hope you will because if I hurt them, I deserve nothing less than a knife to the fucking heart.”

  Serafina turned around in my arms, her blue eyes fierce and trusting. “But you won’t ever hurt them. I know you won’t and you protect the people you love.”

  I nodded. “I won’t and nobody else will either.” I’d fucking destroy anyone who tried.

  She traced the scar over my eyebrow. “I know it’s wrong but I wish I could have killed your mother for what she did to you.”