Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)(82)

Las Vegas was out of the question, would always be, but Adamo didn’t want to live there either.

Yet…

“Katinka, be reasonable,” Dad said softly. “Some things aren’t meant to be. If you miss racing, we can try to set something up.”

I tore away from his grip, unable to bear his closeness. Without another word, I stormed out of his office. My eyes burned but I didn’t cry. I almost bumped into Dima in the lobby. He must have waited for me and now he’d probably keep an eye on me to make sure I didn’t leave the house. Red-hot fury sizzled in my veins. I charged toward the front door, determined to leave.

I’d take a car, because Dad had probably given orders to all our pilots not to fly me anywhere.

I didn’t get far. Dima grabbed my forearm, jerking me to a stop. I whirled on him, furious and desperate.

I didn’t want to lose Dad, or Dima. I didn’t want to never see my halfbrothers again either. But giving up Adamo? I wasn’t sure I could do it.

“Let me go,” I hissed but Dima didn’t loosen his hold.

“Dinara,” he murmured imploringly, the voice that was usually balm on my anger. “Think before you act. Do you really want Adamo to die? Do you think he’d want to die for you?” I froze.

“Would you want Adamo to insist on being with you if Remo threatened your life because of it? Would you die for a relationship that might not even last years?”

I didn’t even have to think about it. The answer rang loud and clear in my heart. Yes, I would risk my life to be with Adamo because I loved him and because he’d already done so much for me. Dima seemed to see the answer in my face because his expression fell but he still didn’t release me. “Are you sure his answer would be the same? He might have helped you get revenge but that never really posed a threat to his life. But if your Dad puts him on his death list, his days are counted.”

Few people survived for long if Dad wanted them dead. My mother had because of Remo Falcone’s intervention. Adamo had the Camorra at his back, but he was an easy target when he lived in camp, and Dad had made it clear he would risk war with the Camorra this time if necessary. My shoulders sagged. The idea of being separated from Adamo hurt but the fear of him being killed was even greater. Maybe Dad and Dima had a point. Adamo and I hadn’t been together for long, and the majority of the time we’d been too cowardly to even put a name to what we had. I couldn’t decide for Adamo to risk his life. No, I definitely didn’t want him to risk his life.

“I need to end it face to face, Dima. I won’t do it over the phone. That’s a bullshit move after everything he’s done for me.”

“Your father won’t allow you to return to camp. He suspects you might stay.”

“Talk to him. If I do it now, I’ll only make things worse. I’m too angry.

Tell him you’ll make sure I’ll return.”

“I will make sure you return,” Dima said firmly. “Because if you don’t, your father will relieve me of my head. I really don’t want to die so you can traipse about with Falcone. Stay here. Don’t you dare run off.”

I felt empty as I watched Dima set out for my father’s office. Last night, I’d allowed myself to imagine a future with Adamo. It had been blurry, with many variables, but I had been happy and free. If I stayed in Chicago, I’d never be either, not without Adamo, not as the Dinara that Dad wanted me to be.

Dima returned five minutes later. “He agreed, but he made it very clear that he’ll send men after Adamo if you aren’t back home tomorrow for lunch.”

“I’ll be back,” I said.

When Dima and I sat in Dad’s private jet for the second time that day, my stomach sank. Adamo deserved to be told the reason for breaking things off in person, but the idea of actually telling him, of being close to him for one last time, it split my heart in two. What if I couldn’t say goodbye?





Dinara’s message telling me she would be back soon raised my alarm and the moment Dinara showed up in camp early the next morning with Dima, I knew something was up. She looked exhausted and as if she was bracing herself for a battle.

I had barely slept the night. I hurried toward her, eager to clear things up.

Dinara got out of the car but Dima didn’t. He stayed behind the steering wheel, looking stoic as usual. I grabbed Dinara and kissed her. For a moment she tensed but then she threw herself into the kiss, oozing despair and passion.

I cupped the back of her head, pulling her even closer. It felt as if we hadn’t seen each other in forever.

Eventually Dinara jerked away and staggered a step back. Her cheeks were flushed. The dazed look in her eyes quickly morphed into apprehension, then determination. This wasn’t good.

“What’s wrong?” I murmured. We were a good distance away from Dima but the windows of the car were down and I didn’t want to risk him overhearing our conversation in case he was part of the reason for Dinara’s tension.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, but her voice proved her answer wrong.

“I didn’t think you’d be back in time for the race tonight. I worried it would take you days to convince your father you were safe here.”

She looked away briefly and when she met my gaze again, her walls had come up, locking me out of her mind and heart.