Twisted Loyalties Read Online Cora Reilly (Camorra Chronicles #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Camorra Chronicles Series by Cora Reilly
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
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“No,” he said quietly. “Shortly before I met you. I was on a mission in New York.” He fell silent. He didn’t want to talk about the mission, and I wouldn’t push.

“So she gave it to you so you’d remember her?”

He laughed, a raw sound. “She gave it to me so I would give it someone who would help me remember the brother she used to know.”

“So you haven’t always been like this.” It was a stupid thing to say. Nobody was born a killer. They were turned into one by society and their upbringing. He finally allowed me to lift my face. There was a strange smile on his face. “Like this?”

“You know,” I said quietly, because what else was there to say. He knew what he was.

“I know,” he murmured. “That’s all I’ll ever be. You know that, right?”

Part of me wanted to contradict him because it was what one was supposed to do, but I couldn’t. “I know,” I said, and he smiled wryly. “I gave the bracelet to you because I wanted it gone. It annoyed the crap out of me that my sister was trying to manipulate me somehow. But I think she got it right in the end.”

I wondered what he meant by that, but his phone rang in that moment. We both looked toward the nightstand and my heart skipped a beat when I saw who was calling.

I glanced down at the screen. Remo. I untangled myself from Leona and reached for my mobile.

Leona’s eyes pleaded with me to ignore the call, but I needed to find out if Remo was on our trail. I picked up. “What’s up?”

“I need you to kill Adamo for me,” he muttered.

I sat up, shocked.

Leona threw me a worried look. I shook my head, trying to show her that we weren’t in trouble. Yet.

“What do you mean?” I asked carefully. He couldn’t possibly be serious. Adamo was a pain in the ass, but how could he be any other way. He was only thirteen, had been only five when his father had been killed. Remo and his brothers had to go into hiding after that because their own family was fighting for the position as Capo and wanted them dead. He’d seen too much already.

“Cane told me he got word that Adamo did cocaine. Twice.”

I grimaced. “You sure?”

“Apparently he’s hanging with one of our errand boys. The fucker gave him the stuff.” Remo paused. “Last night he stole my Bugatti and drove it into a building.”

Adamo had managed to steal another car?

“One day he’s going to get himself killed. He doesn’t seem to care for his life.”

I loosened my hold on the steering wheel. Remo was worried. Or as worried as Remo was capable of being. “What do you want me to do?”

“Give him a good scare. One that keeps him from doing shit like this. And kill all the other fuckers. Make him watch. Don’t be lenient to him, hurt him, Fabiano. If he gets addicted to the shit, he’s fucking lost. A bullet to the head will be his end then.”

“Got it. I’ll handle him.”

Leona worried her lower lip. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not but it’s got nothing to with us,” I said with a sigh. It was a good sign that Remo trusted me with Adamo. That meant perhaps I’d live to spend another night with Leona in my arms. “I have to deal with one of Remo’s brothers.”

Surprise filled her face but she didn’t ask for more details.

“Why don’t you stay here and have breakfast? I should still have eggs in the fridge.” I slid out of bed and dressed quickly. With a kiss and last glance at Leona’s worried face, I headed out and went in search of Adamo.

I found the Bugatti on the side of the street, completely trashed. A tow-truck from the company we worked with for the races parked behind it, and Marcos, one of the other organizers of the races, and the driver of the tow-truck were walking around the car. I got out of my own and strode toward them.

Marcos raised his palms. “I don’t know how he managed to sneak into the qualification race. That boy is like fucking David Copperfield.”

“Where is he?” I asked.

He shrugged. “He went off with two guys. That Rodriguez kid and the Pruitt kid, the one that sells snuff around here.”

I asked around until I finally found one of our dealers who knew where Pruitt spent his days. It was an abandoned repair shop. I peered through the half open gate.

Adamo and the two older boys were gathered around the hood of an old red Chevy. Adamo’s long hair was matted to his head with blood, and yet he was laughing at something Pruitt said. The fucker shoved a piece of silver with white powder over to Adamo, who looked fucking eager to get his nose down to business.


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