Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles #5) - Cora Reilly Page 0,76

her your dick.”

I had to resist the urge to beat the shit out of him. His tone really pissed me off. Instead, I smirked. “I showed her my tattoo. Besides, I already own your sister, Diego. The ring says it and everyone knows it. She’ll see me naked for the rest of her life. So what does it matter?”

He shook with rage. “It matters. She’s honorable, and you should treat her with respect. I’ll say this again, don’t you dare try to touch her before she’s officially yours.”

“Or what?” I challenged.

“I’ll kill you.”

I gave him a dark smile. “You won’t succeed, Diego. You know I’m the better fighter. I’ve killed and tortured so many more than you.”

“Then I’ll die trying. I don’t care,” he said fiercely, and I could tell he meant it. Diego was my friend, and while I didn’t trust him like I did my brothers, I did trust him to some degree.

“Calm the fuck down, all right? Why don’t you allow Gemma to decide what she wants to do before our wedding?”

“She wants to wait until her wedding. It’s what we believe in!”

“Oh, is that so? Are you magically going to re-virginize yourself before your wedding night?”

As usual, Diego avoided my eyes when I mentioned his goddamn hypocrisy. “That’s not even a word.”

“Nice comeback,” I deadpanned.

He glared. “You’re pretty good at hypocrisy yourself.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Come on, you keep sleeping around as if there’s no tomorrow but mark my sister as yours so nobody as much as looks at her.”

“It’s your tradition that forces me to wait for her. If it was up to me, I’d have fucked her already. Maybe you don’t want to see it, but she wants it too.”

Diego returned to his car and drove off without another word.

I went into the gym at four the next day. Gemma’s usual workout time.

Gemma was pummeling the boxing bag when I entered. She was alone, but Diego couldn’t be far. Her eyes darted to me then she quickly looked away. She was flushed, and I wondered if it was still because she’d seen my dick or from exertion. She ignored me as I approached her. Eventually, she gripped the sides of the bag, breathing harshly.

“Your brother wants to kill me.”

She didn’t say anything, only glared ahead. I moved closer and finally, her eyes met mine.

“He thinks he can tell me what to do.” I took another step toward her so we were almost touching. She raised her head to meet my gaze.

“I think it’s between us what we do before and after our wedding.”

Gemma laughed bitterly. “You don’t get it.”

“Oh, I get that you’ve been hot for me for years and I don’t see why we can’t have fun before we’re married.”

Gemma shoved the bag away, turned on her heel and stormed off. I jogged after her and finally caught up with her in the next room. I backed her into the wall, peering down at her cleavage in the sports bra. She looked up at me. “I’m not one of your other girls, Savio. I’ve been brought up traditionally by my family. My mother raised me with strict values. I believe in the sacred bond of marriage. I believe in giving myself to my husband, and no one else. Nothing will change that. And even a Falcone can’t.”

Surprise washed over me at the vehemence in her voice and the fierceness in her eyes. She meant it. There was not a hint of doubt in her expression. Her crush had led me to believe that she might be open to a bit of playing outside of the rules. Now I realized I might have misjudged her.

“I’ll be your husband soon, and then everything is mine.”

“But you aren’t yet,” she said firmly. “And until then I won’t give you anything. My family will seek retribution if you take something. They won’t care that you are a Falcone. They will protect my honor.”

Diego’s words from last night flashed in my head, and my anger spiked once more. “They would die.”

She swallowed. “Maybe.”

I leaned down, regarding her olive eyes, resolute and anxious. “They won’t have to seek retribution, Gem. If you want to wait until marriage, I won’t push you.”

Suspicion filled her face. “You won’t? That’s not your usual style.”

My smile widened. She was right. I loved to push her buttons, and it would be difficult not to keep doing so, but this was different. While my brothers and I weren’t Traditionalists, we respected our men and their families,

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