Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles Book 6)

We spent the night in Adamo’s tent together. Sleep evaded me. My thoughts revolved around the events of the previous day, the knowledge that there were still videos of me out there. Now that I knew I remembered the camera always pointed at me. It had faded into the darkness of my memories over the years. Other images had been more prominent.

Adamo’s warm scent engulfed me, one of his arms thrown over my waist. His closeness provided the solace I’d never admit I needed. I peered up at the tent ceiling even if it was mostly shrouded in darkness. Only the hint of light drifted over to us, maybe from the fire or one of the cars. The low murmur of voices told me others couldn’t sleep either.

“Can’t sleep?” Adamo’s drowsy voice rang out, making me jump.

“Too many thoughts,” I admitted.

Adamo nodded, his nose brushing my cheek. “Whatever you need, I’m here. I know there’s a reason why you joined the races, why you sought my closeness, and once you’re ready to divulge your reasons, I’m here to listen.”

I swallowed, hearing the hint of suspicion in his voice. If I were in his stead, I would be wary of my motives as well, and they hadn’t been completely innocent. “Sleeping with you, spending so much time with you, that’s not about a plan. I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to get to know a member of the notorious Falcone clan to cast some light on my past, at least into the corners that my father kept purposefully dark. I thought you’d be the best option. Your brothers’ reputations are even less inviting. I never lied to you about my identity. From the start, you knew I was looking for something only a Falcone could give me.”

Adamo chuckled. “I’m the least dangerous option, you mean?”

I let out a small laugh. “Walking into Vegas seemed like a bad idea, even in my head, and you fascinated me from the moment I began to research your family.”

“What fascinated you?”

“The racing, definitely. But more than that, it was the conflict I sometimes saw in your eyes during cage fights. As if a blood-thirsty part battled with your conscience. You reminded me of myself. My father thinks I belong in the light, but I don’t fit in there.”

Adamo propped himself up so his face hovered over mine but it was too dark to make out more than the general outline. “The blood you thirst for, is it in Vegas?”

I didn’t say anything. Over the last couple of months, my goal had shifted. “I’d wanted to find out more about my past, and I knew only Remo could tell me what my father wouldn’t. I didn’t have much hope that he would divulge any information. Maybe if my father and he would still cooperate, but now that their relationship has turned hostile, I knew the chances were slim. But I had to take my chances. Part of me hoped, you’d know what I wanted to know.”

“What do you want now?”

My heart sped up whenever I tried to determine what exactly I wanted. Deep down only one option sounded satisfying. “I need to do what I’d originally planned. Find out everything before I can really decide what I’m going to do next.”

“I have the CDs in my car. Do you want them?”

I quickly shook my head. “Not yet,” I whispered. One day I’d try to watch them, but not now, even if they’d show me the cold, hard truth in every disgusting detail. I wasn’t ready for that confrontation.

Adamo cupped my cheek. “You want me to take you to Vegas? To meet Remo. Right?”

I’d imagined meeting the man who’d saved me from possibly years of abuse countless times over the years. My father had never talked in very favorable words about the Capo. Now I guessed the reason for it was that Remo had kept my mother and not allowed my father to kill her. I wasn’t sure why. It seemed unlikely that Remo Falcone had qualms about ending the life of a woman.

“Yes.” Adamo’s silence filled the darkness between us. “I know you’re loyal to the Camorra and I’m not asking you to betray them. I want to officially meet Remo if he allows it.”

“We can drive to Vegas after the next race.”

“Won’t you have to ask Remo first?” Even if Adamo was the Capo’s brother, there were some rules to be followed, unless the Camorra operated completely different from my father’s organization, which I seriously doubted. All crime organization were based on a strict hierarchical structure.

“During my last trip to Vegas, I mentioned that you might want to see him to talk. He agreed.”

I pushed up. “How did you know? Maybe I’m supposed to assassinate your brother for keeping my mother all these years? You can’t know my true motives. I could be lying.”

“You haven’t revealed your true motives yet, maybe even you don’t know them in their full scope at this point, but Remo can protect himself and he’s the master of games and cunning. Tricking him is difficult, far more difficult than tricking me.”

I huffed. “I think you’re putting yourself down.”

“Nah, I’m very good at reading people, and even at manipulation if I want to be, it’s the Falcone gene, but Remo is the fucking master at it. He might as well have invented it.”

“So Remo wants to see me to determine my motives? He’s going to find out if I pose a risk to him, you or the Camorra.”

Adamo stroked along my arm. “No, I doubt that’s why he wants to meet you. Remo kept your mother and the videos for a reason, but he didn’t divulge everything to me. You and he both hide part of the truth, and by bringing the two of you together, I hope to uncover everything.”

“But you have your suspicions why your brother did what he did?”

“I know Remo. His values haven’t changed over the years. They are as twisted and morally doubtful as they used to be.”

“It’s not like your morals are socially acceptable.”

Adamo laughed. “I’m a Falcone. Twisted morals are in my gene pool.”

“I wonder when you’ll decide I’m not worth the trouble?”

“Oh, I have a feeling you’re worth every trouble you might put me through.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond to that. Every day I spent with Adamo, he grew more on me. I missed him when he wasn’t around and I kept thinking about him and how it felt to be with him. I wasn’t sure where my path was taking me but I hoped Adamo would join me on it, at least for a little while longer. I didn’t dare look too far into the future.

“Dima can’t come with us to Vegas. That wouldn’t go over well with Remo,” Adamo said.

Dima and I didn’t talk much but he’d returned to camp with me after my last trip to Chicago. I wasn’t sure if it was on my father’s orders or if his own protective streak had come through. “Then we’ll have to sneak away. I doubt he’ll listen to me if I tell him to stay behind. If my father gave him orders to guard me, he won’t let anything stop him.”

“Then we’ll sneak away after the next race. He rarely stays long for the afterparty. And maybe you can slip a couple of sleeping pills into his drink. I can give you something strong.”

I shook my head. While I trusted Adamo with myself, I wasn’t sure if I should trust him with Dima’s life. He was a Bratva soldier after all, and definitely the first one Adamo would kill. “I’ll handle it.”

Adamo chuckled. “All right. But you don’t have to worry. If I wanted to get rid of Dima, I wouldn’t do it the cowardly way. I’d beat him in a fight to the death.”

“That’s a consolation,” I said dryly.

Adamo brought our faces even closer and kissed me. The kiss was sweet with a hint of possessiveness. He nipped at my lip before he pulled away. “Why Dima?”

“You mean why I dated him?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You and him were together for a few years, right?”

“Three years.”

“So why him? At first, I thought he was jealous of us but now I’m not so sure anymore. He definitely disapproves but I’m not sure it’s because he wants you for himself or if there’s another reason. But you definitely look at him as if he might just as well be your brother and not your ex.”

“Are you jealous? I haven’t been with him in over a year, and not with anyone else either.”

“Just curious. I still think he acts more like a protective brother than a former lover. It’s odd.”

“More odd than a Falcone and a Mikhailov getting it on?” I asked, trailing my fingers down Adamo’s muscled chest and abs.

Adamo chuckled. “Nice try.”

I sighed. I’d known Dima almost all my life. He’d been friends even before my mother had taken me away and afterward, he’d been the one whose company I sought as well. Unlike the adults, he didn’t look at me with pity and horror. He didn’t really know what had happened. That would change later and so would the way he treated me, but he’d always been by my side.

I reached for the cigarette package on the ground beside me and lit a smoke up, then took a deep drag from it. Usually this was a topic that felt too personal, but Adamo and I had reached a point in our…relationship where I wanted to share more of myself. It was a surprising and terrifying realization.

I let out a plume of smoke before I twisted my head around to Adamo “I wanted to be in control, wanted to experience sexuality on my own terms. In the past…” My voice died. I squinted at the glowing tip of my cigarette for a couple of breaths before I could speak again. “The things that were done to me…everything was out of my control. I had to endure the pain, the fear and humiliation. But with Dima, even when it was painful, that was my choice. He let it be my choice. Dima was a safe option. As my bodyguard, he was meant to protect me. Father would have killed him if he’d hurt me. He is my father’s man through and through. I knew he’d never do anything I didn’t want. With him I could do what I wanted, get the power back that was taken from me as a child.”

Sex with Dima had been…freeing in a way because it had been on my terms. It hadn’t been forced upon me. Everything was my choice. But it had never felt…right. I’d never really let go of my control so fully until Adamo. Dima and I had been a bond of convenience. Dima had probably hoped it would give him an advantage in the long-term because as an orphan raised by the Bratva his options would have been limited. But he’d also wanted to help me. And for me, it had meant breaking through part of my shackles while also getting my father off my back. Seeing me in a relationship with Dima had given Dad hope that I’d overcome the past and could live a normal life. If I hadn’t lived through what I had, I doubt he would have been as thrilled about me dating one of his men.

Adamo nodded, and even though I couldn’t see his expression, I warned. “No pity.” The timbre of my voice was almost feral.

“No pity. We Falcones don’t do pity,” he said firmly, snatching the smoke out of my hand and taking a drag himself.

“I almost forgot,” I said sarcastically. Adamo kissed me again, his hand sliding over my bare belly, leaving goose bumps in his way. He began to play distractingly with my nipple piercing again. The glow of the cigarette threw shadows onto his face, reflecting in his dark eyes.

“What you said makes sense. I hope I’m not another safe option.”

I swallowed a moan as Adamo tugged a bit harder. “Sex with you has nothing to do with a safe option, it’s a wild ride that completely rips any semblance of control from me.”

Adamo kissed the corner of my lip and squashed the cigarette. “So this is only about sex and dirty orgasms?”

It wasn’t. Not anymore. Even if my body constantly yearned for his touch. I raked my fingernails over his chest and abs. “What else would it be about? I really enjoy all the dirty orgasms. You never complained.”

Adamo bent over my nipple. “No complaints whatsoever. Every dirty orgasm your skillful mouth and pussy milk out of my cock are very appreciated.” He flicked my nipple with his tongue. Then moved lower, his warm breath ghosting over my belly. He buried his face in my pussy, licking up my lust for him. “I don’t hear your pussy complain either.”

“Shut up,” I gasped, and he did while his mouth and tongue played my pussy like an instrument. Losing control had never felt better.

During the race the next day, I had a hard time focusing. One reason was lack of sleep because Adamo and I had kept each other busy until the early morning hours. The other were thoughts of my upcoming meeting with Remo distracting me. I’d be closer to my mother than I’d been in over a decade. The only time I’d ever really seen her had been in nightmares. Would reality be worse?

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see her. When I’d thought she was dead, I’d always wished for a chance to confront her, but now that the option was real and in my reach, my chest constricted at the mere thought. Even if the past still haunted me on occasion, I had it under control most days. What if seeing her would rip open wounds I couldn’t close again?

I finished the race in fifteenth place. My worst result so far, but despite my ambition, even that barely registered. All I could think about was that we’d head out to Vegas early in the morning.

Dima didn’t join the party after the race and instead hid in his tent right away. I went after him. I wanted to check on him, and I still needed to give him the sleeping pills so he wouldn’t get in the way of our plan to head to Vegas. I really didn’t need an escort of my father’s men at my side. That wouldn’t make Remo give up any of his knowledge. He’d kick us out with blazing guns.

“Dima?” I called. I couldn’t really knock at his tent. A form shifted inside and eventually the flap opened and Dima poked his head out. He was only in his boxers, a sight I’d seen countless times before, but it felt awkward now. The tattoo of the crossed Kalashnikovs branded his chest—the sign of the Bratva. “What do you need?”

I held up the two cups with vodka. “We didn’t share a drink after the race.”

“No reason to celebrate, right? We both didn’t do well today.”

Dima had never much cared about succeeding in the races. He’d stayed for me. “Vodka is right in any situation. To commemorate, to celebrate and just because.”

The flicker of a smile ghosted across Dima’s face before it disappeared.

I handed him one of the cups and he accepted it as he stepped out of the tent. The dose wasn’t too high. It would make sure he fell asleep soon and would sleep until the morning. His light slumber would otherwise prove tricky.

We bumped cups before we emptied the vodka in one gulp followed by a hiss. I grinned. It was a homemade vodka from Dad’s cook and stronger than the stuff you could buy in stores, especially in the States. Widow maker was one of its nicknames among Dad’s men.

Dima scanned my face. “I’m worried about you, Dinara. Since you found out about your mother, you pulled away from me. I feel like you don’t trust me with your plans anymore.”

I scoffed, even if he’d hit the nail on the head. “You pulled away because you don’t like me with Adamo. I gave you room.”

“Don’t make the mistake of trusting him. A wolf is still a wolf even covered in sheep fur.”

“You aren’t a sheep either. I don’t have any sheep in my life. And don’t forget, I’m a wolf myself.”Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

Dima laughed. “You are.”

My gaze drifted back to the party. People were dancing around the fire, already drunk on whatever concoction they’d brewed today. Adamo talked to Crank but he kept throwing glances my way.

“You better return,” Dima said coldly. “He’s waiting.”

I sent him an exasperated look but he slipped inside the tent and closed it. The moment I reached the party, someone grabbed my hand and pulled me into a dance circle around the fire. I was too stunned to tell them off. Instead I allowed my body to sway to the music.

Adamo grinned as he watched me. As we passed him by, I grabbed his shirt and tugged him along. For seconds at a time, I forgot what lay ahead and lived only in the moment, existed in the beat. My boots stirred up the dry earth as I danced to the music.

The afterparty was still in full swing when Adamo and I snuck off toward his tent. Nobody got suspicious since we’d done it before. By now our affair wasn’t a secret anymore. Luckily, people didn’t stick their noses in our business. Most of them had secrets of their own they wanted to cover up. The only one who commented on it at all was Dima. I wondered if he’d mentioned anything to my father, but I doubted it. Dad would have asked me about it if he knew.

It was four in the morning when Adamo and I dismantled the tent and got into his car. Adamo hardly touched the gas and instead let the car roll away from camp slowly. When we were a good distance away, he sped up and we hit the street toward Vegas.

My gaze followed the monotone landscape, only occasionally broken up by Joshua trees or stone formations.

“How long will it take?”

“The ride takes about three hours. Maybe four depending on traffic once we reach Vegas.”

“And Remo knows we’re coming?”

“I sent him a message. He and Nino will wait for us in the Sugar Trap.”

The Sugar Trap…the name rang a bell and eventually the image of a neon sign with spread legs formed in my mind as if dragged out of murky waters. With the memory came a tight sensation in my belly. “Will we ride back right away?”

Adamo slanted me a cautious look. “Maybe you’ll need more than just a couple of hours. I booked a hotel for us at the strip. Camorra owned.”

“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.