Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles Book 5)

by Cora Reilly

  Copyright ©2020 Cora Reilly

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, events and places are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  Cover design by Romantic Book Affairs Designs

  Interior Design/formatting by Champagne Book Design

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Other Books

  About the Author

  Gemma 10, Savio 14

  Some people don’t believe in love at first sight.

  They say it’s only lust.

  The first time I saw Savio Falcone, I fell for him, literally and figuratively, and not in lust either because I didn’t know what lust was. I fell in love with a boy I couldn’t have, not in a way my family would approve.

  Stretched out on my belly on the sofa, the Jonas Brothers blared from my earbuds, gearing up for the chorus. Moving my legs in rhythm to the music, I sang the first line of the chorus at the top of my lungs. A shadow fell over my magazine. Annoyance burst through me. I hated it when Diego spied on me. My head shot up and a little scream shot out of me. A boy leaned over me, his elbows braced on the backrest of the sofa and a smirk on his face.

  Trying to jerk upright, I tumbled right off the sofa and landed in an undignified heap on the floor.

  The boy walked around and stood over me, the grin becoming wider.

  His lips moved, but Nick Jonas was screaming into my ears. The boy bent down and tugged the buds out of my ears, dousing my surroundings in quiet.

  “So, you’re Gemma. Nice singing,” he said.

  I flushed, still unmoving and silent. I had a nice voice, but I hadn’t been trying to sing well. I had screamed the song, trying to let off steam. He wasn’t complimenting me. The mocking twinkle in his eyes made that very clear.

  Despite his rudeness, I couldn’t deliver a sharp comeback. Because this boy was so beautiful it hurt looking at him. He was tall and muscled, with eyes the color of dark chocolate and perfectly styled, charcoal black hair. All sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, and arrogant smiles. Even his clothes looked out of this world. Black leather jacket, low cut dark blue jeans, tight white shirt showing off the outlines of a six-pack, and white sneakers. I’d only seen guys like him in the girls’ magazines I read in secret.

  The same magazine he was picking up from the sofa and reading.

  Mortification filled me.

  One of his eyebrows—and even that was perfect—rose. “If you want to find out in a few years, let me know.”

  The smirk.

  My lips fell open as a flock of butterflies fluttered wildly in my belly. I clenched involuntarily at the unfamiliar sensation. Diego sauntered over to us, looking from me on the floor to the boy and the magazine in his hands.

  Diego’s olive eyes, the same color as mine, flashed with annoyance as he snatched the magazine from the boy. “Gemma, you aren’t supposed to read this shit! Nonna is going to wash your mouth with soap if she finds out.”

  “She only threatens to wash my mouth with soap if I say bad words, not if I read them.”

  “It’s worse. You’ll be grounded for weeks,” Diego muttered. He scanned the article I’d been reading, and his face turned red. Then he ripped the magazine apart. If Mom hadn’t confiscated my phone only a few days ago, I would have taken photos of the pages like I’d done in the past. “Did Antonia give this shit to you again?”

  Of course, Toni had given it to me. She was allowed to read girls’ magazines. Her dad was cool. I jutted my chin out. I wasn’t a snitch. Noticing the boy’s eyes on me, I glanced toward him, feeling my cheeks throb with embarrassment.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked curiously.

  Diego looked embarrassed. Why was he acting strangely? With Mick, he was never that awkward. Who was this boy? “My sister isn’t supposed to read rags.”

  “Nonna doesn’t want you to read them either.”

  The boy frowned. “Why not?”

  Diego actually blushed. Now I really wanted to know who the pretty boy was. “Because Gemma isn’t supposed to know about these things.”

  “These things,” the boy repeated.

  Diego lowered his voice. “Kissing and stuff.”

  The boy burst out laughing. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about the birds and the bees?”

  Despite his mocking, I wanted to smile. How could anyone be this pretty?

  He looked me in the eye before he grinned at Diego. “Do I need to have the talk with you?”

  Diego looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him. I rarely managed to embarrass him. This boy needed to teach me how he did it. “I know how it works, but my sister isn’t supposed to.”

  “You aren’t supposed to either.”

  Diego glowered. “I’m a boy. Dad talked to me.”

  “Oh man,” the boy said, chuckling.

  Suddenly, Diego’s expression darkened. “We honor our traditions. You should too, even if you don’t believe in them.”

  “Was that what you were doing when you were thrusting your tongue down Dakota’s throat? Honoring your traditions?”

  “You kissed a girl?” I blurted.

  Diego sent me a look demanding I shut up.

  “Nonna wants us to wait until marriage!”

  That seemed to be the last straw. The boy keeled over, bracing his hands on his thighs and roared with laughter. “Don’t tell me you’ve never gone further than kissing, Diego?”

  Diego glanced at me, mortified, then gripped the boy’s arm. “Let’s go up to my room. Gemma will keep bugging us if we stay down here.”

  The boy shook his head in disbelief. “Whatever.” He followed Diego to the stairs.

  “Our house is nowhere near as splendid as your mansion,” Diego said. Was he embarrassed of our home?

  “So what?” the boy said. “Before we came to Vegas, my brothers and I shared one room.”

  He was perfect. The butterflies in my stomach kept doing their little dance and I liked the sensation—a lot.

  “What’s your name?” I blurted before they went up.

  “Savio Falcone,” he said, giving me a grin.

  Flutter. Flutter. A riot of butterflies.

  “And I meant what I said. If you want to find out in a few years, come to me.”

  It took me a moment to understand what he was talking about: the article.

  Diego looked between his friend and me, frowning. “Come on, man.” They disappeared upstair
s.

  Savio Falcone.

  Diego had told me that he was friends with a Falcone but I thought he was pulling my leg. Not in a million years would I have considered this pretty boy a Falcone. The way people whispered in fear about them, I’d expected someone scary and monstrous in appearance.

  I had really talked to a Falcone… and embarrassed myself.

  My cheeks were still burning thinking of my undignified fall and the article Savio had caught me reading.

  How to tell if your boyfriend is a good kisser?

  I’d never kissed a boy and I wouldn’t. Not until my wedding day and no one but my husband.

  Right then, I promised myself that Savio Falcone would be the one.

  Gemma 13, Savio 17

  Rubbing my eyes, I trudged into the kitchen and straight toward the fridge. I didn’t remember the last time I’d spent a Sunday morning in bed. Nonna always chased us out of bed at sunrise so we could make ourselves presentable for church. I’d faked period cramps this morning because I’d spent half the night texting with Toni and had been too tired to go to church, and worse the potluck afterward. Last time I’d argued for more than an hour with Nonna before she’d let me leave early so I could meet Toni. Mom and Nonna always thought I needed every moment at church functions to cancel out the fact that I was a girl who loved martial arts.

  “Meow,” a deep voice said right behind me.

  I jumped in the air with a screech, then whirled around and threw the milk carton at the intruder.

  Savio ducked and the carton hit the wall, only to burst with a splash. Milk flew everywhere and the soggy carton dropped to the ground.

  “You’ll have to work on that aim, Kitty.” Dark chocolate eyes shone with amusement and that infamous arrogant smile twisted his lips.

  My cheeks flamed as I followed his gaze to my pajamas. A tank top and shorts with Hello Kitty all over them and that wasn’t even the worst. I wasn’t wearing a bra and unlike many of my friends, I already had breasts and needed a bra. I jerked my arms up and crossed them over my chest. Was this the punishment for lying to get out of church? Nonna would certainly say so. It was too harsh of a punishment. I’d light up two more candles next time.

  Savio smirked, but he looked away from my chest. He didn’t look anywhere near my body. Instead, he sauntered over to the burst milk carton. “I always thought it was an urban legend that kitties loved milk. You prove me wrong.”

  I wanted to die on the spot. Of course, while I was in embarrassing pajamas, Savio wore his usual Instagram model-worthy outfit. Ripped black jeans and tight white shirt accentuating his perfect body. “What are you doing here?” My attempt to sound flippant turned into a nervous mutter. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my composure around him. I wasn’t the only one, though. Almost every girl I knew had a crush on Savio. He was tall, muscled, and a beast in the cage, and if rumors were to be believed, in other areas as well. Embarrassment washed through me. That wasn’t something I was supposed to know anything about. If it was up to my family, I’d still believe storks dropped off babies on the porch. Toni was a life saver.

  “Diego and I are watching my last fight.”

  “Oh, really? I hear you beat up your opponent pretty badly,” I said, feeling more at ease talking about this and glad to finally get the chance to do so. I only wished I was allowed to actually watch one of his fights.

  The door swung open and Diego stepped inside, his dark hair styled in that annoying out-of-bed look he’d adopted recently to appear cool. He glanced from Savio to the spilled milk, then to me. Disapproval tightened his mouth. He used to be much cooler when I was younger. Now he was always annoyed with me. “What happened here?”

  I stalked closer to him. “What are you doing home?”

  Diego frowned. “Dad asked me to stay with you. Why are your arms wrapped around your chest as if you’re cold? You can drop the act. I know you’re not sick.”

  I glowered and dropped my arms. “Sorry if it bothers you.” Despite my embarrassment, I allowed Diego to come to his own conclusion.

  His eyes filled with realization and he quickly stepped in front of me, trying to cover me from Savio’s view. Savio rolled his eyes, turned and headed for the door. “I’ll be waiting in the living room until you figure out your shit.”

  The moment he was gone, Diego glared down at me. “Why are you running around half naked in front of Savio?”

  I cuffed him. “Because this is my home, and I didn’t know I wasn’t alone.” I pinched him, but he wasn’t as sensitive to pain as he used to be before he started training with Savio. “Because of you, I made a fool out of myself. What will Savio think of me now?”

  Diego’s mouth tightened. “He doesn’t think of you, Gemma. You are an annoying little brat. He couldn’t care less if you run around in your PJs around him.” He stalked toward the door, then before he left, he pointed at the mess on the floor. “Clean that up.”

  Rage boiled up in me and I aimed a kick at his butt, but he quickly grabbed my heel and shoved me back. I landed on my tailbone, letting out a pained gasp as tears shot into my eyes. Concern flickered across Diego’s face. To pay him back, I covered my face with my palms and started sniffling.

  He knelt beside me and touched my shoulder. “Gemma, are you hurt?”

  I quickly dropped my hands and punched his stomach.

  “Fuck, you little brat.”

  I grinned. “See, this is why I need to start training with Savio. You always hold back because you don’t want to hurt me. How am I supposed to improve like that?”

  Diego glowered.

  “And you’re not supposed to say the F-word around me. If Nonna or Mom were home, you’d be in trouble.”

  He got to his feet and shook his head. “You’re lucky you’re allowed to fight at all, stop bothering Savio. He won’t fight with you. It’s a waste of his time. Why would he want to hang out with a little girl?”

  “He hangs out with girls all the time.”

  Diego chuckled darkly. “Yeah, he does. You are a kid, Gemma. Just drop it.”

  He disappeared through the door. I pushed to my feet and rubbed my tailbone. I’d have a bruise tomorrow, but I’ve had bruises before.

  I rushed up to my room and changed into jeans and a cute T-shirt that Toni had given me. I usually changed into those clothes at school because Nonna didn’t approve of jeans. Modest dresses were the only clothes Nonna and Mom allowed me to wear. After I’d brushed my hair and put on my secret stash of makeup, I hurried back downstairs.

  The sound of cheering and yowling rang from the speakers of the TV when I stepped into the living room. Diego and Savio lounged on the sofa, their feet propped up on the coffee table. I walked into their line of vision. It was the first time I wore normal clothes and makeup around Savio so I was nervous about his reaction. Neither Savio nor Diego gave me a fleeting glance though.

  “Get us something to drink, Gemma. A Coke for me.”

  “And one for me,” Savio said, not even looking away from the TV.

  Flushing, I turned around and headed for the kitchen.

  I was invisible to Savio.

  The door to the gym opened as I finished another round of double-unders before I dropped the skipping rope on the ground. “It’s okay,” I called to my older brothers who were sparring in the cage. Neither Nino nor Remo looked my way, too busy fighting.

  Diego turned the corner with Gemma hot on his heels. Her eyes became huge as she took in the old casino that we’d turned into our gym. Especially the chandeliers that always got looks from visitors.

  I raised my eyebrows at Diego. Hadn’t he told me only recently that he wouldn’t give in to Gemma’s begging? He rolled his eyes in response before he gave me an apologetic look. Diego motioned for his sister to stop and she did, but not without pulling a face. She quickly smiled when she noticed my attention. She was in gym clothes, which looked like they might have been Diego’s a long time ago: too big sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt.


  Diego strode toward me. We clapped hands. “Babysitting duties?”

  He groaned. “Worse. Gemma has been whining to Dad for weeks now how much she wants to fight with you that he asked me to take her with me.”

  Gemma had been begging me to fight with her for months. “Your dad’s okay with me fighting your sister?”

  Diego huffed. “Of course not. She’s his precious little princess. The idea that you could hurt a single hair on her angelic little head would drive him insane. He couldn’t bear her begging anymore and wanted me to take her with me so she can watch. As if she’ll be happy with just watching.”

  I glanced behind Diego.

  Gemma was bobbing on her heels, her hands entwined. She was wearing some strange updo with braids. She was lucky she knew how to fight because with that hairdo, she’d otherwise get beaten up in school for sure.

  Gemma was a scrawny kid, but she’d been working out with Diego for a while now. She knew how to throw a punch. “Maybe we can get her off our backs once and for all.”

  Diego frowned. “Gemma is stubborn. Once she’s set her mind on something, it’s close to impossible to dissuade her.”

  I grinned. “Maybe. But I might know of a way.” I glanced toward Remo, who did a high kick toward Nino’s head. He was sweaty, scarred, and the crazy as fuck look in his eyes made grown men shit themselves. I knew how my brothers appeared to strangers, and most people had every reason to be scared as shit of them.

  I motioned for Gemma to come over. She beamed and practically rushed toward us, her face flushed.

  Diego rolled his eyes again.

  “Hi Savio!”

  “Hey Kitty.”

  Her blush deepened and she squirmed. “That’s not my name.”

  “But it’s so very fitting.”

  Diego scoffed. “You should see some of her other pajamas—”

  Gemma punched his arm. “Shut up!” She smiled at me, tilting her head to the side and peering up at me through her lashes. Then she tried batting them.

  I almost choked on laughter. Kitty was flirting with me.

  “If you got something in your eyes, wash your face, Gemma,” Diego growled.