Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)(95)

After a moment of surprise, I forced myself to relax but she pulled away instantly and gave me an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring my hug on you.”

“Don’t worry. It’s nice to meet you.”

Kiara was a gorgeous, petite woman with the kindest eyes I’d ever seen.

She was someone I’d have imagined as the docile wife of a pastor, not a notorious and undoubtedly sociopathic mobster like Nino Falcone.

“Nino, can you help me carry everything to the table?” Kiara asked before she and her husband disappeared.

“I’ll help you as well,” Gemma said, rushing after them. Maybe this wasn’t as easy for her as Adamo had thought. He looked at his brother Savio but I couldn’t read the look that passed between them.

I greeted Leona and Serafina who welcomed me without reservation.

They too seemed honestly interested in meeting me. After greeting the women of the family, Adamo led me toward Remo and Nino as well as Fabiano and Savio. Fabiano shook my hand with a tight smile. I hadn’t expected a warmer welcome from the Camorra Enforcer, but he wasn’t hostile so I took it as a good sign. My stomach tightened when I finally faced Savio. “Hi,” I said stupidly. I wasn’t sure why I felt uncomfortable. I wasn’t guilty by association.

Savio scanned me from head to toe. I was in my beloved biker boots but instead of ripped jeans or jean shorts, I’d opted for a more festive plaid skirt, black tights, and black leather jacket over a black long-sleeved body. “I should have known my emo kid brother finds himself an emo rocker chick.”

I blinked. “The role of Ken and Barbie in the family are already taken so we had to settle for the emo couple,” I shot back before I could think it through.

Remo cocked an eyebrow with that look of dark amusement always lingering on his face.

Savio actually spluttered with laughter. He clapped Adamo’s shoulder hard. “Now I know why you chose her.”

I stifled a pleased grin. Adamo gave me a shrug but I could see the tension leaving his shoulders. “It wasn’t a choice. Dinara is a force to be reckoned with. I didn’t have a choice but to fall for her.”

My face heated. I sunk my nails into his hand in warning. He wasn’t supposed to embarrass me. Talking emotions in front of people really put me on the spot.

After a couple of minutes, Kiara, Nino, and Gemma returned with casseroles and pans, and we settled around the table. The kids still eyed me with a mix of caution and curiosity. The presents would hopefully sway them toward me tomorrow, but I wasn’t sure how to handle Gemma. She had avoided me so far.

I occasionally cast a glance at her during dinner. Luckily the rest of the Falcone clan chatted animatedly with me about racing. We avoided any mention of Russia or Bratva until Leona asked, “How do you celebrate Christmas in Russia?”

I hesitated, glancing at Gemma and Savio. I didn’t want to open old wounds, but Gemma looked up from her plate and met my gaze. She gave me a small smile. I relaxed and gave her a grateful smile in turn. “We celebrate on January seventh. In my family we cook twelve dishes that represent the disciples of Jesus, but that’s not how everyone in Russia does it. We have a multitude of traditions in our country.”

More questions about Russia soon rained down on me. I was relieved that my heritage wasn’t the pink elephant in the room anymore.

“I’d love to see the Bolchoi ballet one day,” a tiny girl with the same black hair and dark eyes as her twin Nevio piped in. Her name was Greta if I remembered Adamo’s instructions correctly, and she looked like a precious doll with her symmetric facial features, big eyes and porcelain skin.

“I saw them a few times in Saint Petersburg and Moscow. My favorite ballets are the Nutcracker and Swan Lake.”

Greta smiled shyly at me, briefly meeting my eyes before looking away.

“Mine too.”

At once, everyone became even warmer toward me as if this little girl’s verdict held particular significance. Adamo patted my leg then interlaced our fingers under the table.

By the end of the night, I was completely relaxed. I didn’t feel like part of the family yet, but I hadn’t expected that. Yet, I enjoyed the chaotic coziness of the Falcone home.

It was a different kind of Christmas than we celebrated in Chicago and I loved this new experience. I wanted Adamo to be part of our traditions as well, but I worried what Dad would do to him if I brought him home with me. While I was safe in Las Vegas with the Falcone clan, I wasn’t sure if Adamo would be safe in Chicago. Dad could still change his mind any day.

After Christmas dinner, we all moved toward the sofas. The beautifully decorated Christmas tree towered over us and illuminated our surroundings with the gentle glow of the electric candles. Before I could sit down beside Adamo, Gemma approached me.

“I’m sorry that I was rude and didn’t welcome you right away. Christmas is hard for me…” She swallowed. “But I shouldn’t vent my sadness on you.”

“I’m sorry for what happened to your family. I hate that mob business kills so many innocents.”

“Thank you,” Gemma said with a small smile. “I’m glad Adamo found you. I’ve never seen him so happy before.”

Adamo was talking to Fabiano, but I could tell that he was half-listening to my conversation with Gemma.