Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3)

by Cora Reilly

  “Tell me, Eden,” I whispered harshly. She held her breath hearing me say her name. I never had before. They thought I didn’t know their names, but I knew every fucker I owned, soldier and whore. “Have you ever considered telling me to go fuck myself?”

  “Of course not, Ma ...”

  “What did you want to call me? Master?” I slammed into her once, making her gasp. “Tell me, Eden, am I your fucking master?”

  She hesitated. She didn’t even know how to answer that fucking question, and it made me furious. “I’m not your fucking master,” I growled.

  “Yes,” she agreed quickly.

  I turned her face so she had to stare into my eyes. “Do you have a sliver of honor in that used up body of yours?” I asked gently.

  She blinked.

  My mouth pulled into a snarl. “No. Not one fucking ounce.” I gripped her neck and started thrusting into her. She winced and it made me raving mad. Still slamming into her, I muttered in her ear, “Do you ever wonder where Dinara is?”

  She tensed under me, but I didn’t let up. “Have you thought of her at all?”

  She let out a sob. She had no right to cry, no fucking right, because she wasn’t crying for her daughter but only for herself. A fucking disgrace of a mother. “Do you ever wonder if I do to your little girl what I do to you now?”

  She didn’t say anything. I straightened and kept fucking her until I finally came. I stepped back, thrust the condom down on the ground, and cleaned myself with a towel that I kept handy before I pulled up my briefs and pants.

  She turned, mascara smudged under her eyes, and I tossed the towel at her. “Clean yourself. And dispose of the fucking condom. It’s dripping my cum all over the floor.” She picked up the towel from the floor and wiped the floor first then cleaned herself. Dirty whore.

  “Get out of my sight before I kill you,” I said.

  She rushed past me, opened the door, and almost bumped into Savio, who stepped back with a disgusted expression. He cocked an eyebrow as he stepped in. “You’re still fucking that bitch? Why don’t you just kill her like she deserves?”

  “She doesn’t deserve death. It would be too kind to kill her.” And I gave Grigory my word that the bitch would suffer.

  Savio nodded. “Maybe. But I thought you’d be up virgin pussy, not this used up piece of trash.”

  “I’m not in the mood for virgin pussy.”

  Savio looked curious. “I imagine it’ll be really tight and kind of hot knowing you’re the first to be in there.”

  “Never been with a fucking virgin, so I can’t fucking tell you. Is there a reason why you’re here disturbing my post-fuck-fury?

  “What’s the difference between that and your pre-fuck-fury? Or your general mood for that matter?”

  “You’re a fucking smart ass like Nino.”

  Savio sauntered in and leaned his hip against the desk. “I thought I’d tell you Simeone went into the basement with a tray of food for your girl and didn’t come back up yet.”

  I shoved past Savio, so fucking furious I had trouble not killing every single person in the fucking bar. I raced down the stairs when I heard Simeone’s cackling and spotted him in the doorway to Serafina’s cell, not inside of it. I slowed, knowing there was no rush. He wasn’t that stupid. Stupid enough, but not so stupid to try touching something that was mine.

  “Get out, you disgusting pervert,” I heard Serafina’s voice.

  “Shut up, whore. You aren’t in Chicago. Here you are nothing. I can’t wait to bury my cock in your cunt once Remo is done breaking you in.”

  “I won’t shower in front of you. Get out!”

  “Then I will call Remo and tell him to punish you.”

  Oh ... so he would call me? Interesting. I stalked closer, not making a sound. Simeone’s back twitched like he was busy jerking off, which was probably the case.

  My mouth pulled into a snarl, but I held back my anger.

  More silence followed and I approached without making a sound. Simeone’s profile appeared in my view, leaning in the doorway with his hand clutching his ugly dick as he rubbed it furiously. I stopped a few steps from him, and there was Serafina in the shower, her back turned to him.

  Simeone was practically salivating on the ground and jerking off, watching Serafina shower. She was a sight to behold, no argument. Her skin was pale like marble. Her ass two white orbs I wanted to sink my teeth into. There wasn’t a blemish on her body, not a single imperfection, so unlike my own. She had been protected all her life, kept safe from the dangers of this world, and here she was at my mercy.

  “Turn around. I want to see your tits and cunt,” Simeone ordered, his hand moving faster on his cock.

  Simeone was so wrapped up in watching her and wanking off, he didn’t notice me. “If you don’t turn around, I’ll call Remo.”

  “I won’t turn around, you pig!” she hissed. “Then get Remo. I don’t care!”

  “You little whore! I will turn you around myself.”

  Simeone made a move as if to push off the doorway, when Serafina turned around, one arm wrapped protectively over her breasts, the other hand shielding her pussy. The water pouring down her face almost hid her tears. She gave Simeone the most disgusted look I’d ever seen, her head held high ... and then she spotted me.

  “See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Simeone rasped.

  My lip curled. I pulled the knife from my holster, slid my fingers through the knuckle holder, relishing in the feel of the cold metal against my skin. She watched unmoving as I stepped up to Simeone. Her perfect proud lips wouldn’t utter a warning.

  I wrapped my arm around his throat in a crushing grip and pressed my knife against his lower abdomen. He cried out in surprise and let go of his cock. “You were going to call me?” I asked.

  His terror-widened eyes blinked up at me as his face turned red from the pressure of my grip. I loosened my hold so he could speak.

  “Remo, I made sure she wasn’t messing around. It’s not how it looks.”

  “Hmm. Did you know that no man has ever seen what you just saw?”

  He shook his head frantically. I lifted my gaze to Serafina, who was watching with a frozen expression.

  “You see, now you have seen something that I had no intention of sharing,” I explained in a pleasant voice. I slid the knife into his abdomen, only a couple of inches. He cried out, flailing in my grip. I held him fast, my eyes never leaving Serafina. Blood trickled down over my hand. His filthy blood.

  Serafina dropped her arms to her side. I didn’t think she noticed. She stared at me in open horror. For once her prideful mask had slipped and revealed her true nature: a softhearted, breakable woman. And I took in the sight of her firm breasts and the golden curls at the apex of her thighs, perfectly trimmed into a triangle. For her wedding night. What a pity that poor Danilo would never get to see it. She was mine for the taking.

  “Remo,” Simeone spluttered. “I won’t tell anyone what I saw. Please, I beg you.”

  “I believe you,” I said mildly. “But you will remember.” I drove the knife deeper into his flesh, moving slow, letting him savor every inch of the blade. “Did you imagine how it would be to sink your filthy cock into her pussy?”

  He gurgled.

  The knife was buried to the hilt in his abdomen. “Did you imagine to bury yourself to the hilt inside her?” His eyes were bulging, his breathing labored.

  I twisted the knife and he screamed again. Then I pulled it back out as slowly as it had gone in. His legs gave way, and I let him drop to the ground. He clutched his wound, crying like a coward. It would be another ten or fifteen minutes before he died. He’d wish it were less. “Remember what I told you about your eyeballs and tongue? Your cock will join them.”

  I brought the knife down on his cock, and Serafina whirled around with a gasp.

  SERAFINA

  My hands were splayed out against the white tiles of the shower. I couldn’t breathe. Terror clogged my throat.
Nothing in my upbringing had prepared me for this. Nothing could have. I was falling apart fast. Faster than I’d ever thought possible.

  Pride and honor were the pillars of our world, the pillars of my upbringing. I needed to cling to them. He could take everything from me, but not that. Never that.

  Simeone was screaming and I pressed my palms against my ears, trying to shut him out—to no avail.

  Ice Princess no more.

  My eyes were blurry from tears and water. But the image of Remo sinking his knife into a man with that twisted smile on his face was etched into my mind. How was I supposed to stay prideful? How was I supposed to hold my head high and not let him see my fear? Nothing had ever scared me more than Remo Falcone.

  Monsters aren’t real, my mother had told me a long time ago when I was afraid to sleep in the dark and kept crawling into Samuel’s bed. I hadn’t believed her back then, and that was before meeting Remo.

  The screaming stopped.

  I shuddered and lowered my hands slowly. Something red caught my eyes. I looked down at the shower floor where red water was pooling around my feet. I blinked. And then it clicked. Floor-level shower. Remo bringing down the knife on the man’s ... My feet looked even paler against the red. My vision shifted and something broke apart in me. I was standing in someone’s blood.

  I heard myself screaming and tried to get out of the blood but the ground was slippery. I twisted around, holding onto the shower walls. And then I saw the rest of the cell. The entire floor was covered in blood, and amidst it all stood Remo, tall and dark, knife still gleaming in his hand. His chest and arms were smeared with blood. Red. Red. Red. Everywhere.

  I was still screaming and screaming until I couldn’t scream anymore because there was no air left in my lungs. And I could not breathe.

  Remo sheathed his knife and stalked toward me.

  I flailed, trying to get away from him, from the blood, from the sight of the dead man behind Remo.

  My feet slipped on the floor, and I was falling. My knees sank into the blood, my hands followed.

  Remo pulled me up, my body pressed against his, and the smell of blood filled my nose. I clutched at his shoulders for balance. And then I pulled one hand back and it came away red. And one glance down. Red. My skin. Red. Everything red.

  My eyes found Remo’s blood covered body. Red. Red. Red.

  I started struggling against his hold. I fought with all I had. “Please,” I gasped out. Remo lifted me in his arms, and I had no fight left in me. He carried me barefoot through the cell, stepping over the dead man. When had he got rid of his shoes?

  A hysteric laugh bubbled up my throat, but it turned into a sob. This was too much.

  Remo walked into another cell and set me down on the floor of the shower. I sank down, curling up on my side, unable to remain in a sitting position. My chest was heaving, but I wasn’t breathing. Through my foggy vision, I watched Remo getting out of his bloody clothes and coming toward me. Naked. I didn’t register more than that.

  I closed my eyes.

  He moved his arms under my knees and back and lifted me once more. Then cold water splashed down on me, and I sucked in a deep breath, my eyes shooting open. Remo shifted with me in his arms, leaning forward, his forehead pressed against the tiles as he looked down at me. His body shielded me from the cold water raining down on us, and his dark eyes held mine.

  “It takes a while before the water gets warm down here,” he said calmly.

  So calm. My eyes searched his face. Eerily calm. No sign that he had just killed a man in a barbaric way. I shuddered, my teeth chattering. Even when the water turned warm, my teeth kept clanking together, and they didn’t stop even when Remo stepped back out of the shower with me still in his arms.

  Remo walked out of the cell and carried me through the corridor. Panic tore at my chest.

  “Fuck,” someone said. A man.

  “Get me a fucking blanket, Savio,” Remo growled.

  He tightened his hold as he carried me upstairs. I closed my eyes, too shaken to put up a fight. Something soft and warm covered me, and then I was put down on warm leather.

  “You can’t drive through the city naked. And there’s still blood on your body.”

  “You can drive,” Remo said, and then his body eased in beside me.

  “Where the fuck are we taking her?”

  “Home.”

  “Nino won’t like that one fucking bit. You know how protective he is of Kiara.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. Now shut up and drive.”

  I focused on breathing, focused on remembering what made me happy. Samuel. Mom. Dad. Sofia.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The minutes seemed to blur together, when Remo picked me up again and eventually put me down on something soft. My eyes peeled open, heavy-lidded and burning from crying.

  The first thing I registered was the bed I was lying on. Soft satin sheets, blood-red. A majestic canopy bed made from black wood, the posts twisting as if two branches had wound around another to form each. Heavy blood-red drapes hung from the canopy, blocking the bright sunlight streaming into the bedroom. I put my trembling hand flat against the smooth sheet, white against red, like in the shower. I shuddered and started hyperventilating again.

  Remo appeared beside the bed and sank down, causing the mattress to dip under his weight. He was naked except for a knife holster, which was strapped to his chest. Muscles and scars and barely restrained strength.

  I averted my eyes, my teeth beginning to chatter again. Remo reached over me. “Don’t,” I said weakly. Then firmer, “Don’t touch me.”

  Remo’s dark eyes held mine with intent. He bent low until his face filled my vision. “After what you saw me do today, you still defy me? Don’t you think submitting to me will make things less painful for you?” His voice was soft, low, almost curious.

  “Yes,” I whispered, and something shifted in his eyes ... was that disappointment? “But I’d rather take pain than submit to your will, Remo.”

  He smiled darkly and reached over me again. Before I could react, he pulled a blanket over my body, covering my nakedness. My eyes widened.

  “How can you know what you prefer if you’ve never experienced either? Neither pain...” he brushed his lips lightly across my mouth, not a kiss but a threat “...nor pleasure.”

  A shiver traveled down my spine. My throat was dry, my limbs heavy.

  “I want to show you both, Angel.” He paused, his dark eyes burning into me. “But I fear you’d rather kill yourself than give yourself to me.” He pulled his knife out and put it down beside me. “You should end your life, take the easy way out, because nobody will come to save you, and I won’t stop until I’ve broken you, body and soul.”

  I believed him. How could I not with the intense determination and coldness in his dark eyes? I reached for the knife then pushed into a sitting position and pressed the blade against Remo’s throat. He didn’t flinch, only regarded me with unsettling eyes.

  “I won’t ever kill myself. I won’t do that to my family. But you will never break me. I won’t let you.”

  Remo tilted his head, again with a hint of curiosity. “If you want to kill me, do it now because you won’t get another chance, Angel.” My hand holding the knife shook. Remo didn’t take his eyes off me as he shifted closer to me, climbing up on one knee then the other until he leaned over me. I pressed harder and blood welled to the surface. My eyes focused on the red coating the blade against Remo’s skin.

  Remo moved over me and drove the knife harder into his flesh. I yielded, fixated on the blood trickling down his throat, on its smell, its bright color.

  Remo lowered himself on top of me, the knife between our throats, his body covering mine with only the blanket between us. He regarded me, dark eyes peeling away layer over layer of protective walls that I tried to put up.

  Hysteria swirled in my chest, the memories of the basement clawing at the fringes of my mind. Remo curled his hand around m
ine and the handle then slowly pried my hands off it and took the knife from me. He dropped it to the bed beside us.

  I could feel every inch of his strong, muscled body against mine, but my eyes couldn’t focus on anything but the blood on his skin, dripping from the cut I had inflicted. He pressed two fingers to my throat, feeling my erratic pulse. “Still in the grasp of panic, hmm?”

  I swallowed. He pulled away and stood. Then he bent over me. “You are safe in your weakest moments, Angel. I don’t enjoy breaking the weak. I will break you when you are strong.”

  He grabbed the knife and turned around, presenting his back to me. My eyes traced the tattoo of the kneeling fallen angel. Was that how Remo saw himself? A fallen angel with broken wings? A dark angel risen from Hell?

  And what was I?

  Before he left the room, he glanced over his shoulder at me. “Don’t try to run, Angel. There are more men like Simeone waiting to get their hands on you. I’d hate having to send them after you and hurt you.”

  As if anyone could hurt me worse than Remo would.

  I forced a smile. “We both know you’re lying. You won’t let anyone hurt me.”

  Remo cocked one dark eyebrow. “I won’t?”

  “You won’t because you want to be the one to break me, to make me scream.”

  Remo’s mouth pulled into a smile that raised the little hairs on my skin.

  A smile that would haunt me forever.

  “Oh, I will make you scream, Angel. That I swear.”

  Suppressing a shudder, I dug my nails into my palms and forced more words from my tight throat. “Don’t waste your time. Kill me now.”

  “We all have to let part of ourselves die to rise up stronger. Now sleep tight. I’ll return later for a proper video message for your family.”

  “Why did you even save me from Simeone? Why not let him start the torture you have in mind for me? Why bring me here to your mansion?”

  Remo regarded me as if he, too, was wondering the same thing, and his silence told me that my guess had been right; this was indeed the Falcone mansion. It surprised me that he would risk bringing me into his family’s home.