Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)(50)

“You don’t have to spend the night in a hotel with me instead of with your family. I know they don’t trust me.”

“It’s such a burden to spend the night in a five-star hotel with a gorgeous redhead instead of having my family shove their noses in my business and ask me a million questions about you.”

My eyebrows shot up. “What kind of questions?”

“My sisters-in-law want to know all about you. A secret girl in my life has them all dying from curiosity.”

“Secret girl in Adamo Falcone’s life. I like that title.”

Before I could think about it, I reached for his hand and before I could pull away again, Adamo linked our fingers. He gave me a knowing smile and silence fell over us. Sometimes I lost myself in the warmth of his eyes. They made me feel as if I could entrust him with every dark secret I harbored.

My pulse spiked at the flood of emotion this realization brought on and looked away. I peered out of the window, trying to recall what I remembered of Remo and Nino Falcone, and Las Vegas. I hadn’t understood who they were back then, except the men who’d freed me from my daily hell and given me back to my Dad. For a while, they’d seemed like heroes. But eventually Dad had made it clear that whatever they had done was for business reasons, to create a shaky truce with the Bratva. Dad had lied about mother’s death, so I wasn’t sure how much of his tales were false too. Yet, the Camorra wasn’t really known for their altruistic agendas.

When Las Vegas appeared on the horizon, my belly flipped and my mouth became dry. Over a decade. The girl who’d left this city long ago didn’t exist anymore—or so I hoped.

“How long?” I asked, my voice hushed.

Adamo squeezed my hand but even his touch didn’t calm me now. “Ten minutes.”

Not enough time to brace myself for what lay ahead. Now that I got closer to my goal inner calm seemed impossible to reach.

Ten minutes later we pulled up in front of the Sugar Trap. I pushed open the door, tearing away from Adamo’s grip. I drew in a deep breath, fighting against the tightness in my chest. The mere sight of the neon sign brought back memories from the past, from the days and weeks prior to Remo giving me back to my father. Las Vegas was filled with horrible memories for me.

It wasn’t the only city though. Even before Mother and I had moved here, she had allowed the men who gave us shelter to abuse me.

“Dinara?” Adamo asked carefully, walking up beside me.

“I’m fine,” I pressed out before he could ask. “Lead the way.”

Adamo took my hand and I let him as he led me toward the shabby black door leading into the Sugar Trap. It was a whorehouse, the first establishment of the sort I set foot inside since that fateful day many years ago, and the place that would determine my future.





Adamo opened the door and held it open for me. I stepped into the dimly lit ante-room with its cloakroom and a huge black bouncer sitting at a table. His eyes briefly narrowed on me before they moved on to Adamo and he gave a curt nod.

Adamo didn’t say anything, only gave the man a tense smile, before he led me along. My legs felt leaden as I followed him into the bar area of the Sugar Trap where johns could check out the selection of whores and chat with them until they went into one of the backrooms for the actual deed. Now the area was mostly deserted except for a dark-skinned man behind the bar counter, taking stock of the liquor cabinet. It was still too early for customers.

My eyes took in the red leather booths, black lacquer décor and the dance platforms with silver poles. The color scheme hadn’t changed nor had the general vibe of the establishment. But it seemed smaller now, and less daunting. For the small, distraught girl from the past everything had seemed so much bigger. Now it was a dingy bar like any other, not so different from the ones Dad had in Chicago. I wasn’t allowed to set foot in them but I’d seen photos. I handled all the online presences of the clubs and bars on the internet as well as Darknet for Dad’s section of the Bratva. I had a penchant for computer sciences, so it was a way to feel useful and justify the endless amount of money at my disposal.

My pulse didn’t slow as we crossed the bar, even if I didn’t catch a hint of danger. Adamo threw me another worried look because I’d slowed even more. “We don’t have to meet my brothers. We can return to camp.”

“No,” I said sharply. “I have to talk to Remo.”

Some parts of my life, of my past, had remained out of my control, and I needed to yank control back. I needed to talk to someone who’d been there.

Adamo nodded but I could tell he wasn’t convinced. He couldn’t understand. I wasn’t sure if anyone really could. He’d gone through some messed up shit, especially with his mother, but what he’d done, attacking her, had been a spur of the moment thing when it was his brothers’ lives or hers.

My deepest desires went so much further.

“Let me talk to my brothers before I take you to them, all right?” he said.

“Why don’t you grab something to drink? I’m sure Jerry will gladly give you whatever you want.”

Jerry looked up behind the bar and gave me a quick smile, all white teeth in his dark complexion.

I released Adamo’s hand and he disappeared through the backdoor. I headed for the bar but didn’t sit down. “Do you have vodka?”