Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles #5)(25)

I wasn’t allowed to fight Savio, only watch him and Diego spar with each other. But considering that I hadn’t even been allowed to do that the last few months, I was more than happy to work out at the boxing sack.

Diego always hovered close by, not giving me a second alone with Savio. After their fight training, he finally headed for the bathroom. I quickly knotted my baggy shirt so my abs showed while Savio wiped his face with a towel. My eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin that peeked out where his shirt rode up. The hint of black peeked out of his waistband. A tattoo? I hadn’t seen him without a shirt for years.

“You got a new tattoo?” I asked curiously, unable to stop myself. I walked closer like a moth is drawn to the light.

Savio lowered the towel, his dark eyes taking in my exposed stomach, and something in his expression filled my insides with butterflies. “Got it a few years ago.” The way his mouth twitched increased my curiosity. The tattoos on his forearms were always on display—the Camorra knife and eye on one wrist, and a mechanical watch speared by a knife surrounded by glass shards covering the scars on his other, but I wondered where exactly this third tattoo was.

“How big is it?” I asked without thinking. Mortification heated up my face when I realized how that sounded.

Savio chuckled. “Big.”

I had to bite my tongue not to ask what he was talking about and I knew that had been his intention in the first place. “What is it?”

“Telling you would ruin the effect. You have to see it,” he said, his voice lower than usual. Was he flirting? Or was I imagining things driven by despair?

Diego sauntered out of the bathroom, his eyes zooming in on my exposed stomach.

“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Savio said.

“I don’t care. He’s being unreasonable.”

“What’s going on here?”

“We’re talking about my tattoo,” Savio said, pointing toward his crotch.

“You—”

Savio raised a palm. “Calm down. I didn’t reveal anything.”

Diego didn’t look convinced. He searched my face, but I didn’t give anything away. “I should grab my things. We need to get home for dinner.”

“Don’t forget the meeting at eight,” Savio said.

“Meeting?” I echoed.

“Camorra business,” Diego said.

“The Bratva has been giving us trouble,” Savio added, despite my brother’s disapproving expression. Dad and Diego never told me anything.

I gave Savio a smile and he winked at me while Diego was busy stuffing his towel into his bag.

“My parents talk about nothing else but finding a good match for me,” I muttered, trying to sound casual. As far as smooth topic changes went, this was a bad one.

Savio was removing his bandages and didn’t look up. Behind him, I caught Diego rolling his eyes at me.

“The next few weeks will be tight for me. I have to prepare for my upcoming fight, so I can’t work out with you Diego. Remo needs to beat me into shape.”

Had he listened to a word I was saying? I opened my mouth to repeat myself, but Diego gripped my arm and dragged me away. I stumbled after him. “What are you doing?”

“Saving your dignity,” he hissed.

“What—”

“Be silent.”

He pushed me into the locker room then closed the door. “Grab your things. We’re leaving.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Stop ordering me around. You’ve been an asshole to me lately.”

“Because you’re acting like a goddamn idiot.”

My eyes grew wide.

“Savio, Gemma, I’m talking about Savio. Just give it up. You’re embarrassing yourself. The only thing missing is you asking Savio for his hand in marriage. Get it into your stubborn head that Savio’d rather chew on glass than chain himself to a woman.”

I looked away and snatched my gym bag. “People can change. Sometimes it just takes finding the right person.”

“You don’t really believe that’s going to be you, right? You’ve been in front of him for years now, not to mention that you’ve been talking about Dad looking for possible suitors for months on end. Savio doesn’t give a shit. He won’t ask for your hand.”

“But I know how he watches me. He wants me.” The words turned my cheeks hot. It was the first time I admitted it to Diego, or anyone but Toni.

Diego grimaced. “Of course, he does. But he wants you for free and without any ties. That’s not going to happen, so he lost interest. You’re too much work for his taste.” Diego regarded my face then shook his head with a sigh. “Come on, let’s head home.”

He touched my back, but I stepped out of his reach and walked ahead, angry at him even though I knew he was telling the truth. Nothing of this was Diego’s fault. He’d warned me from the get-go. It was my fault for falling for someone like Savio Falcone. And it was Savio’s fault for being such a male slut.

Savio was still unwrapping his hands, immersed in a conversation with Mick and Nino, who must have come in while we’d been in the locker room. I was surprised to see Mick. He rarely trained with Savio. Maybe because he was embarrassed about his lack of skill.

“Keep it together, all right?” Diego muttered. “We were raised to be prideful, so stop throwing yourself at him.”