Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles #5)(113)

“That’s no fun,” he growled, and I gave in. After a quickie on the ground, I scanned the floor again. “What if I lost it?”

“That would break my heart,” Savio said with fake severity.

I sighed, feeling bad. “I left it on the nightstand last night, I’m sure.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll turn up when you least expect it.”

“Or it’ll end in the vacuum and be forever lost.”

“Admit it, you wouldn’t be sad to see it gone.”

“It’s my engagement ring.”

Savio shrugged, his head propped up on his crossed arms like he owned the world.




I’d searched the rest of our wing, the kitchen and the common area by the next day, but the ring remained gone. After a week, I actually considered asking Savio if he could ask the goldsmith to recreate the expensive atrocity.

When I came down into our living room that evening for our weekly night of watching fights, I froze on the last step. Savio had dressed up in a black tuxedo that accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow hips, white dress shirt and bowtie. I was in my usual evening attire, low cut sweats, and a tight T-shirt. “Did I miss something important?” I asked worriedly. What if we were invited to some sort of Camorra gala and I had forgotten? Savio probably found it funny to give me a heart attack like that.

“Do you know what today is?”

I blinked, trying to remember. It wasn’t our wedding anniversary, and not the anniversary of our engagement either. No birthday either.

Savio’s cocky smile widened. “Nothing?” He came closer slowly. “Tomorrow we’ll be married for six weeks. That’s not what I mean, of course.”

I rolled my eyes, still trying to figure this out.

“Eight years ago…”

My brows snapped together.

“A little girl fell for me.”

“How do you know—?”

“That I met you exactly eight years ago? Or that you fell for me?”

He stopped in front of me. With me on the first step we were almost at eye level. “I remember because that was the first time I felt like I’d really arrived in Las Vegas. It felt like a permanent home, not like something that could be ripped from our hands at any given time, which was why I really tried to become friends with Diego.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, still not sure what this had to do with him wearing a tux.

“And I knew you fell for me because it was written all over your face that day, and ever since.”

“All right, Mr. Vanity, if you’re dressed up like that to celebrate your own awesomeness, I’ll go back upstairs and soak in the tub for a bit. You’re—” Savio pulled out a satin box from his back pocket and sank down on his knee. He opened the box, revealing my engagement ring—only not quite. Instead of the obnoxious SF initials that marked me as Savio’s possession, now the letters S and G hugged the huge diamond in the middle. Savio and Gemma. “Seeing you search the house for the ring was a wonderful show, but you couldn’t find it because I had it all along.”

My throat tightened already and the familiar prickling at the back of my eyes announced an ugly crying session.

“I took it because I wanted to alter it so it reflected what it meant to me. That we belong together and are a great team.” The first tear slid out.

Savio became serious. “Today, I’m doing what I should have done two years ago. Gemma Bazzoli, will you become my wife?”

I let out a small choked sound. “I am your wife.”

He waited. “But I never asked for your hand like a girl like yourself deserves. So Gemma, tell me, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes,” I pressed out, my vision becoming blurry. Savio stood and slid the ring on my finger. Wrapping an arm around me, he pulled me against him. “I love you, Gemma Falcone.”

I swallowed, trying to form words.

Savio kissed my wet cheek. “Now you have to say I know.”

I slapped his shoulder, laughing through my tears. He grinned, but a hint of vulnerability showed in his eyes. I grabbed his head and gave him a sloppy, wet kiss. “I love you so much.”

Savio tightened his arms around me and lifted me off the step.

“I hope you didn’t book a surprise dinner in an expensive restaurant. It’ll take hours to make myself presentable.”

Savio shook his head. “You look perfect just the way you are, and neither of us enjoys a stuck-up dinner. I thought popcorn, chips, and cage fights were the right way to celebrate this day.”

“Perfect,” I agreed. Then glanced at his clothes. “A tux seems like a strange choice for a comfy evening on the couch.”

Savio’s answering smirk set me aflame. He put me down on the couch then took a few steps back. Reclining against the cushions, I watched him warily.

He shrugged off his jacket, showing off the white dress shirt hugging his muscled chest. After a moment of letting me appreciate the sight, he grabbed the sides of the dress pants and ripped them off with a devilish grin. My eyes widened as he proceeded to do the same to his shirt until he was left in boxers.

“You wouldn’t believe what kind of treasures can be found in strip clubs.”

I burst into laughter. Savio would earn a ton of money as a stripper. Not that he needed it. “Only you would choose a stripper tux to propose!”