Twisted CravingsCora Reilly (The Camorra Chronicles #6) - Cora Reilly Page 0,75

would have never known they exist. Just pretend you never found out.”

“He wanted me to have them so I can see my abusers and decide over their fate. Your brother is all about Judgment Day, isn’t he?”

I chuckled. “Not in a religious sense, but an eye for an eye is definitely his style. Though he wouldn’t settle for an eye. He’d take the eyes, the tongue and at least one organ before he’d consider it even.”

“What would he do to my abusers?”

Probably the same thing I’d been fantasizing about. It was ironic that I’d spent most of my life trying to be better than Remo. “Torture them until they beg for death, until every part of their body is broken and their mind too. He’d make sure the other abusers would find out what’s happening so they’d piss their pants knowing they were next. He’d work his way up from the least guilty fucker to the number one, keeping the best for last.” My voice rang with eagerness and dark hunger. I raked a hand through my hair, my blood pounding in my veins.

Dinara regarded my face. “Sounds like you gave it plenty of thought.”

I smiled twistedly. “I’m a Falcone. Twisted shit is in my blood.”

She scooted closer and leaned over me, pushing me back. Her hair curtained our faces as she straddled my hips. She became serious. “There’s only one other thing that can help me move on. Not drugs, and definitely not forgiveness.”

“Tell me.” But deep down I knew what she wanted, what she’d ask of me, and with the same certainty I knew I wouldn’t deny her. Fuck, I wanted it to happen. I shouldn’t want it so much.

“Help me kill her, help me kill every single one of them.” She kissed me harshly then reached between us and rubbed me roughly through my pants. Gripping her neck, I returned the kiss with even more force. With a growl, I flipped us over and shoved down her shorts before I unzipped my pants. Sliding her panties to the side, I slammed into her in one hard stroke. She arched up with a moan. We locked gazes and in hers lay trust and an emotion we both couldn’t admit to. Only our pants and moans filled the emptiness as our bodies joined. More than the physical aspect I could feel how this moment brought us closer on an emotional level.

Afterward we lay beside each other, both of us silently watching the starry sky. Dinara took out a cigarette and lighted it then took a long drag before holding it out to me. I’d been trying to stop smoking again, but today wasn’t a good day to begin this quest, and I doubted the next few weeks would be better. I took the butt and inhaled deeply.

“And? Will you help me?”

I blew out a plume of smoke, blacking out the beautiful night sky. “Yes.”

There was no hesitation in my voice, not a flicker of doubt in my mind.

Dinara rested her head on my shoulder and I wrapped my arm around her. “I’ve never killed anyone. Not even really hurt anyone.”

I couldn’t say the same. As a Falcone, it had fallen upon me to become accustomed with violence from an early age. “If you can’t do it, I can do it for you.”

Dinara propped her head up. “No, I don’t want to use you as my assassin. That was never the plan. Fuck, when I came here to find out more about my past, I didn’t think it would end with me making a plan to go on a killing spree with you.”

I searched her face. I couldn’t detect a hint of a lie in her voice. “But you were curious about me and my brothers killing our mother.”

“Of course, I was. If you meet someone who’s stabbed their mother, it’s bound to be the most interesting thing about them, even if your life probably entails many interesting incidents.”

“Your father is Pakhan. Your life certainly hasn’t been boring either.”

Dinara’s mouth pulled into a tight line. “Dad tried to give me the life of a princess, or rather life of a tsarina. My wardrobes are filled with more dresses than I can ever wear and I own jewelry that’s worth many millions. There’s staff for every little demand in our home. I attended balls in Russia and parties in Chicago. I lived a boring life.”

“It sounds like you lived the life of someone else. I can’t imagine you in a ballgown,

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