Adamo gave my father a knowing smile. “Are you suggesting I could join the Bratva?”
Dad didn’t say anything, only scrutinized Adamo with an unreadable expression.
The Bratva would never accept a former Camorra soldier in their rows. No matter how well Adamo would learn to speak Russian, he’d always be an alien—the enemy.
Before I could voice my thoughts, Adamo said, “I think we both know that I’d never find a home in Chicago and I have absolutely no intention to leave my family or the Camorra. Both are part of my identity, of my very being. Leaving the Camorra would be like leaving myself behind and changing who I am. Your daughter loves the man I am today, not an alternate version of me.”
Adamo’s dark eyes slanted to me and I gave him a nod. I didn’t want him to change. I wanted the man I’d met.
“Then what do you suggest? It seems we’re at an impasse, stuck on different sides of a war. Dinara would be torn between us.”
“I won’t be torn. It’s not like there is an open war between the Bratva in your territory and the Camorra. The Las Vegas Bratva doesn’t have strong ties to your organization.”
“We don’t need a truce. We need an agreement of mutual ignorance. A simple non-aggression pact,” Adamo said.
“The line between a truce that could bring me the wrath of the Outfit and a non-aggression pact seems fleeting.”
Adamo shook his head. “A truce often entails cooperation. We agree on co-existence. We don’t help you against the Outfit. You don’t help us against the Outfit.”
“You can’t come to Chicago as you please in that case. Outside of my home, you won’t be protected from attacks. My men won’t help you if the Outfit tries to kidnap you again.”
Adamo smirked. “The Outfit won’t capture me again. I was a naïve boy when they did. And if they’d ever catch me, the Camorra would come to my help. I wouldn’t need the Bratva for that.”
Dad leaned back in his chair. What Adamo suggested was a shaky arrangement. If something happened to Adamo, I’d move heaven and earth to convince my father to send his men to save him, and Adamo would undoubtedly use his Camorra soldiers to save me if something happened. Lines would get blurry. Even this co-existence pact might compel the Outfit to act if they considered our arrangement a threat to their business.
I didn’t really care about the Bratva beyond the fact that Dad’s life depended on their success.
“Where would you live? How would you be together?” Dad asked, turning his attention back to me. “Live in Las Vegas, with the Camorra clan? That would be hard to explain to my men. Co-existence only goes so far.” Dad’s men admired him. They trusted his judgment, but he had a point. If I got too cozy with the Camorra, that wouldn’t sit well with them. Dad’s only option then would be to officially declare his disapproval and cast me out.
The point was moot anyway. I shook my head forcefully. I didn’t want to live in Las Vegas. The city held too many horrors for me. Little Katinka lingered in too many dark corners, ready to spring her memories on me. I met Adamo’s gaze, wondering if he expected me to move to Vegas with him eventually. His family was very close. His brothers all shared a mansion, and they probably expected Adamo to join their co-living at some point.
Of course, Dad picked up on my uncertainty. He pushed to his feet and smoothed his dark suit. “I’ll give you two a moment to talk. I want answers when I return so I can make a decision.”
Dad walked past us and left the room.
I whirled on Adamo and slapped his chest hard, glaring. “What the hell has gotten into you? Have you lost your mind waltzing into my father’s home? He could have killed you on sight!”
“He didn’t,” Adamo said with a slow smile as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. Didn’t he realize in how much trouble he was?
“He might still do it.”
“No, he won’t.”
“So now you can look into the future?”
Adamo leaned down, his lips pressing against mine. I softened and kissed him back. I’d missed him these last few days. Now that I could touch him again, I wondered how I could have ever considered living without his touch, his smile. Adamo drew back. “Your father wouldn’t have listened to everything I had to say and given us alone time if he had made up his mind to kill me. He trusts me with you, and that’s a big deal considering you are obviously very precious to him.”
“Maybe he wants to give us time to say goodbye,” I said. Yet, I had to agree. Dad didn’t dislike Adamo. It was more than I’d ever dared to hope for.
“So what do you say? Do we want to be together?”
I gave him a condescending look. “Of course. But Dad wants a solution that won’t cause him trouble.”
“He wants your happiness. That’s his top priority even if it shouldn’t be.” I pursed my lips. Adamo laughed. “It’s true. The head of a crime organization should never prioritize his family over business. But Remo’s the same way. Maybe that’s why they grudgingly tolerate each other despite the eternal conflict between Italians and Russians.”
“He won’t accept me going to Las Vegas with you.”
“You don’t want to live in Las Vegas anyway,” Adamo said gently.
I sighed. “You’re right. I won’t ever like that place. Not after what happened. Even if we killed the monsters from my past, that doesn’t eradicate what happened. It’s still in my head.”
“I know. I didn’t experience your horrors but even I still occasionally have nightmares about my kidnapping and the torture.”
“But won’t your family expect you to live with them in the mansion?”
“I think they know that I never really wanted that. Even before I met you, I lived the majority of the year in camp. I prefer the nomad life. Organizing the races is a part of the business I enjoy dealing with.”
“But that was before you discovered your love of torture. I’m sure your brothers can use your newfound talents in better ways.”
Adamo chuckled mirthlessly. “Trust me, my brothers have enough expertise torturing people. They don’t need my help. And it’s not that I discovered my talent for torture through our vengeance trip. It’s been something I’ve been battling with for a long time. It’s a dark craving I’ve been feeling for a long time, and it was why I really consumed drugs. They mellowed out this urge. They turned me into the person I wanted to be but the effect never lasted long.”
“If that’s the case, are you sure you can live without the thrill of blood without resorting to drugs to mellow your urge?”
Adamo thought about it. “Yeah. I feel like the urge has lessened since I allowed myself to live it for a little while. Suppressing it, only increased the craving. I guess I just need to allow my dark craving out to play on occasion to keep it in check. What about your dark craving?”
“It’s there. It’ll always be, I guess, but I won’t give in. Not after I saw how it dictated my mother’s life.”
“Good,” Adamo murmured.
“But we still didn’t make a decision about our future.”
“It’s easy. We live in camp. The races take place nine months of the year, so we’ll have to follow the circuit anyway. I want to keep racing. What about you?”