Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)(85)
“And you expect me to give you the okay for this suicidal bullshit?” Remo growled.
“You would do the same if our roles were reversed. You never cared about your life when the people you love were involved. You allowed Cavallaro to torture you for me and Serafina. A painful death was as good as certain, but you didn’t care. Now it’s my turn to follow in your manic footsteps.”
“You are becoming too much like me, Adamo,” Remo said.
“I thought you’d be happy.”
“You were supposed to be the good Falcone.”
I scoffed. “We both know that would have never worked.” “You might have to kill Grigory,” Remo said.
“If I kill him, Dinara won’t ever forgive me. I’ll have to convince him —”
“Or die.”
“That’s not the outcome I’m hoping for.”
“It’s not an outcome I can allow, you realize that.”
“I want your promise that you won’t go on a killing spree if things don’t work out. I’m the one who’s intruding on Grigory’s territory. If he decides to kill me, he’s got every right to do so.”
“And as your brother, I have every right to seek revenge.”
“Remo,” I gritted out. “I don’t want you to avenge me. If her father got killed as well, that would break Dinara.”
“If she really loves you, she won’t allow her father to kill you, and if she can’t stop him, she should be happy if I kill him.”
For Remo, many things were black and white, especially where loyalty was concerned. Deep down, I hoped Dinara wouldn’t allow her father to kill me, but above all, I wanted to convince him of my feelings for his daughter.
“If Greta fell in love with an enemy, could he stop you from killing him if his love for her was true and if he tried to prove it to you by risking his life?”
“No,” Remo said without hesitation.
“Even if that meant Greta would never forgive you?”
“Greta can’t be separated from Nevio, nor should she be separated from her family. We are her safe haven. I’d never allow anyone to take that from her, not even for love.”
“Okay, maybe Greta wasn’t the best example, but Dinara doesn’t have trouble adapting to new surroundings. She loved living in camp with me.”
“But being with you still means you’re taking her away from Grigory. He lost her once before and he hasn’t forgiven himself for it yet. Allowing her to be with you means putting her at risk in enemy territory, away from his power.”
“I’ll have to give it a try,” I said imploringly.
“Do what you must, you are an adult. But tell Grigory that I’ll destroy everything he holds dear if he touches you.”
“Will do,” I said, even if I had absolutely no intention to follow through.
After my conversation with Remo, I was determined to go through with my plan. This was insanity but if that was what it took to convince Dinara and her father that we had to be together, then I’d do it.
I rented a private jet instead of taking one of the Camorra’s. If I showed up with a Camorra jet, Grigory might consider it a threatening gesture, but I wasn’t here as a Camorrista. I was here as Adamo.
A taxi took me to the Mikhailov palace. The moment I walked toward the gate and told the guard my name, he rang the alarm. Within a minute, several Bratva guards and Dima rushed down the driveway.
Dima shook his head, an incredulous expression twisting his features. The gates swung open and the guard shoved me toward Dima. I didn’t resist.
Dima grabbed my arm in a crushing grip, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “What the fuck, Falcone? Are you crazy? You must realize that even your name can’t protect you in Chicago. This isn’t Camorra land. Grigory will be pissed and kill you.”
“That’s what you’ve been waiting for, right? So this’ll be a good day for you.”
Dima shook his head, muttering something in Russian under his breath.
“You are an idiot. Dinara will be devastated if something happens to you.”
My heart skipped a beat hearing her name. “Dinara and I love each other.”
Dima nodded. “I know, but Grigory won’t care. He wants Dinara in Chicago, he wants her safe. Sending her off with a Falcone isn’t something he can accept.” Dima patted me down and removed my knives and guns, and handed them over to the other guards who trained their guns on me.
“Are you alone?” Dima asked.
“Yes.”
“Usually I’d say you’re lying because it’s absolutely idiotic to come here without a backup, but I believe you. You’ve got more guts than I thought.”
Dima dragged me along the driveway toward a magnificent palace and then inside the building. It was something straight out of Russia, a palace so full of splendor that even I was awed despite having grown up in a huge mansion. The States and even the Camorra seemed light years away in this place.
“Maybe you can put in a good word for me, if you want Dinara to be happy,” I joked.
Dima gave me an amused look. “If Dinara hasn’t convinced him yet, then I definitely can’t do it. And if you think that Grigory will listen to you, then you’re the biggest fool I know.”
Cora Reilly's Books
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