Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles #5)(21)

Nestore was kneeling on the floor, half bent over the corpse of his opponent. Everything was covered in blood. From the looks of it, Nestore had ripped his opponent’s throat out with his teeth. Remo had to stop allowing this psycho to fight in Vegas, even if he had an unexplainable soft spot for the guy. Or at least he’d have to deal with him and not send me out so he could spend the evening with his twins and wife.

I approached Nestore carefully. My white sneakers were ruined after only a few steps. Annoyed, I grasped his shoulder. He jerked up to his feet and tried to punch me. I blocked the assault then got in his face. “Snap out of it, asshole. Or you’ll be the one with the gaping hole in your throat.”

Nestore’s eyes focused on me, finally. That creepy out of sorts expression freaked even me out. He stepped back and walked past me then climbed out of the cage as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

I followed after him. We needed to have a talk, only not in front of hundreds of spectators.

“Who’s going to clean up the mess?” Roger called after me.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t make a fortune tonight. Pay someone to wipe away the shit.”

I stepped into the locker room after Nestore. He was already peeling out of his fighting shorts, still ignoring me. If I didn’t know the guy, I’d have thought it was a show of disrespect.

“This wasn’t a death fight, Nestore. Just like your last fight wasn’t a death fight. You need to get a grip.”

He looked up. “He got into a cage with me. He wanted to die.”

“I don’t give a fuck what he wanted. We didn’t declare it a death fight. That means you won’t kill. We make the rules, Nestore. If you want to rip out people’s throats, fight your battles in L.A., not here. For now, you’re banned from fighting in the Arena.”

“If that’s what my Capo wants,” Nestore said indifferently.

I wasn’t sure if that was what Remo wanted, but someone needed to be the voice of reason here, and as usual, that wasn’t going to be my brother. No one would have allowed a man like Nestore to become Underboss.

I turned on my heel and left Nestore so he could clean up. Outside, Diego was already waiting for me. Judging from the pissed expression, his father had called him.

He barred my way. “Why didn’t you get me when you found Gemma here?”

“Because you were busy disregarding your traditions with Dakota.” Fury flickered across his face. It pissed him off when I reminded him of his hypocrisy, but someone had to.

“My father blames me for it!”

“He’ll get over it. He’s turned a blind eye on all of your nightly activities so far.”

“I can do what I want, but this is about Gemma. I hope you kept your fucking hands to yourself when you took her home.”

I didn’t bother with a reply. Not only because Diego’s interrogation rubbed me the wrong way, but also because I wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t realize that my intentions toward Gemma had shifted.

Mick followed me toward the bar. I slanted him a look.

“You didn’t touch her, right?” His voice held a strange note. I couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or curiosity.

“Why do you care?”

He gave a shrug.

I scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’ve got the hots for her?”

He flushed. “She’s the hottest girl in Vegas.”

That was true. “She’s off limits.”

“So, you’re not going to ask for her hand?”

I choked on my drink, chuckling. “Hell, no. I won’t marry anyone.”





“Dad, please,” I said when it was only him and I at the breakfast table. “I’ve been grounded for two weeks. I only wanted to help Toni.”

Of course, Dad had ground me indefinitely after Savio had dropped me off. Mom hadn’t cried, but her eyes had glistened and that was almost as bad. Nonna was still sending me disappointed looks whenever she thought I was being too perky.

Why had Savio shoved his nose into my business? I’d always dreamed about him showing interest for me, but not in this way. I didn’t need another crazy protector. Diego was bad enough.

I was angry, not just because of Savio ratting me out but also because of his words. He’d made it sound as if the thought of marrying me was too horrid to even consider.

Dad narrowed his eyes. “You worked in Roger’s Arena, Gemma. That’s not a small thing. We don’t need those kinds of rumors about you, especially because I’ve started looking for a husband for you.”

I almost choked on my tea. “You promised to wait until I found someone.”

Dad shook his head. “It’s been one year, angelo mio, and the only one you’re interested in is Savio.”

“He’s a good catch.”

Dad sighed. “He’s a Falcone. He doesn’t share our values. Other men have already inquired about you. He hasn’t.”

“Can’t you mention it to him? Casually, I mean. Maybe he doesn’t realize that he can ask for me.” That was stupid of course. Savio knew about the rules in our world, even if he preferred to ignore them.

“All right. I’ll mention it next time I see him, and I’ll tell Diego to do the same, but that’s all we can do. The man has to ask for your hand. You are too precious to throw yourself at someone.”