Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)(66)

Adamo looked up and rose from the bed before he approached me. He cupped my cheeks in his warm palms, his eyes searching mine without saying a word for what felt like forever. I let him, found inner peace as I lost myself in his gaze. The brutal events of the day hadn’t left a trace in his eyes either.

“You okay?”

I searched inside myself for a feeling of unease, of a deep unsettling sensation, but I was calm. I shook my head and pressed myself against Adamo. “I’m fine.”

“That’s good. The crew got rid of the body and cleaned every inch of the store. Nobody will suspect anything. It’ll take a while before anyone will notice he’s gone and hopefully the police will just think he moved away to avoid the rumors.”

I nodded, but my mind had already moved on from the man I’d killed to the next name on the list.

Adamo pulled back. “Let me take a shower, then we can talk some more.”

He headed into the bathroom but unlike me he didn’t close the door.

I stretched out on the bed and turned my phone on. I’d turned it off since yesterday to avoid calls from Dima and my father. As expected, my mailbox was overflowing with messages from both of them. As if Dad could sense my phone being turned on, he called again. Taking a deep breath, I picked up.

“Dinara, where the hell are you? Are you all right? Do you need help?”

The words were fired at me rapidly, making it difficult to understand them. “I’m fine. I don’t need help. I’m dealing with matters.”

“What kind of matters?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Dad. Honestly. I’ll be back in Chicago soon. Just give me some time and space.”

The more time I spent with Adamo the less I wanted to return to Chicago.

I felt out of place there, now more than ever, and while I missed Dima, he and I had moved apart over the last year.

“I have been giving you plenty of time and space recently. Few men in my position would allow their daughters to walk around in enemy territory.

That’s where you still are, right?”

“Yes, but you know I’m not in danger.”

“Do I? You’re hunting the past and that’s never a good thing.”

“Nobody holds grudges better than you do, Dad, and nobody clings more stubbornly to the past. I get that from you.”

He made a displeased sound. “Dima should be at your side. You aren’t meant to be alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I said.

Dad scoffed. “You think a Falcone is going to protect you? Don’t make the mistake of becoming too friendly with them, Dinara. It’s a slippery slope.”

“What did Dima tell you?”

“I saw a video of you and the youngest Falcone dancing and kissing.”

The last was said with blatant contempt.

Once I’d made sure the shower was still running, I said, “You don’t have to worry. There’s nothing between us. He’s a means to an end. Not more. He helps me get what I want.”

Guilt settled in the pit of my stomach for lying to my father like that, and for talking about Adamo as if he didn’t mean anything, when every day we were together, he captured more of my heart. I was glad that he couldn’t hear me talk like that. Even though, Adamo couldn’t talk Russian, I didn’t want him to be present when I spewed such hurtful lies.

“And what is that?”

“To kill the past.”

“Don’t let this man drag you into the dark.”

If anything, I was dragging Adamo into the dark. But even that didn’t ring quite true. It felt as if we were going this path as equals, hand in hand, driven by our demons. “Promise not to send Dima to get me, or I’ll dispose of my phone and you won’t be able to talk to me until I’m done.”

“I want daily messages telling me you’re okay, and I’ll track your whereabouts. If you don’t message me a day, I’ll send men over, even if it means war with the Camorra.”

I sighed. I knew that tone and that it was futile to discuss the matter further with him. “All right.”

The shower was turned off in the bathroom. Luckily, I could hear a knock in the background on Dad’s end. Dad was silent for a moment, as if he was listening to someone. “I have to go, Katinka. Be careful.”

“Always.” He hung up and I lowered the phone with a deep sigh.

“Bad news?” Adamo asked carefully, leaning in the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his hip.

“My father worries about me.”

“Will he send men?”

“No, as long as I give him daily updates that I’m alive, he won’t act. He trusts me.”

“But definitely not me,” Adamo said, walking toward me. “And he won’t ever do it.”

He was right. My father wasn’t a man who trusted easily, and certainly not a member of the Camorra. “It doesn’t matter. As long as I trust you,” I said.

Adamo sank down beside me. “And do you trust me?”

“Would I be here with you if I didn’t?”

Adamo shrugged. “Maybe I’m your only option.”

I shook my head. “I could do this on my own. I know the addresses of every person on our list and after today we know that I can go through with killing them, so if it was really just about convenience, I wouldn’t need you beyond this point.”