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?”
“Oh yes,” I said with a grin. I missed the thrill of racing. I even missed the chaotic atmosphere in camp.
“We could buy a motorhome to have more room. That would allow us to create a home for us without settling down in a place. We could visit Las Vegas on occasion and if your father ever doesn’t want to kill me, we could visit Chicago as well. Otherwise we’ll just have to split up for our family visits.”
“You think your brothers will agree to that?”
“Once Gemma and Savio start popping out babies, my brothers can use the additional space. And Remo’s twins probably won’t ever move out, so they need rooms as well. If I only require one room for visits, that gives my brothers the chance to create living space for their kids. It’s a win-win situation if you ask me.”
It sounded like the perfect solution. I still wasn’t convinced his brothers would agree, but maybe we could convince Dad as a first step and get Adamo out of Chicago in one piece.
“Can you imagine living in a motorhome with me, or is such a living arrangement not fit for a Bratva princess?” Adamo asked in a low voice, pulling me even closer and cupping my ass.
I cocked an eyebrow. “I prefer freedom and being with you to a palace. What about you, Camorra prince?”
Adamo grinned. “I’ve been living the nomad life in a tent and car for a couple of years now. I don’t need much.”
He lowered his mouth to mine once more, his tongue teasing my lips apart. His hand on my ass moved even lower until his fingers stroked over my crotch. I moaned into his mouth and stood on my tiptoes to give him better access. Of course, Dad chose that moment to return.
I quickly stepped back from Adamo, my cheeks heating. Being caught by my Dad was something that made even me blush. Adamo smiled as if he hadn’t just fingered me through my jean shorts.
I was glad for Dad’s poker face because he didn’t give any indication that he’d noticed us getting it on.
“And?” he asked neutrally.
Adamo explained our planned living arrangements to my father, making everything sound perfectly reasonable. When he was done, Dad nodded. “That could work. But who guarantees Dinara’s safety?”
“Nothing will ever happen to Dinara. When we killed her abusers, I was her protector. Neither Dima nor you were there but Dinara was always safe.”
I gritted my teeth, hating how they discussed me as if I weren’t present. “I don’t need constant protection. I’m capable of staying away from danger and if necessary, to defend myself. I can kill someone.”
Both Adamo and Dad ignored my protest. “If I entrust you with my daughter’s safety, you better make sure you don’t disappoint me, because if something happens to her, I’ll find you and torture you to death with my own hands, and believe me they are very capable.”
“Dad,” I muttered.
“If something happens to Dinara, which it won’t, I deserve everything you have planned for me and gladly accept my fate,” Adamo said.
I shook my head. “You two are impossible.”
Dad gave Adamo a curt nod, which was the extent of approval he was probably capable of. “I won’t kill you today. Right now, I’m willing to give your relationship with my daughter the green light. Don’t make me change my mind.”
“I won’t,” Adamo promised.
“Does that mean Adamo and I can return to camp tomorrow?”
Dad nodded, but I could tell he still had trouble letting me go. I released Adamo’s hand and went over to Dad to hug him tightly. “Thank you,” I whispered. His decision was a risk. If anyone but me would have started something with an Italian, or worse a Camorrista, he would have killed them on the spot, but for me, he was willing to accept even that.
“Everything for you, Katinka,” he said in a low voice before he kissed my temple.
“I suppose we’ll have to live in sin forever,” I said with a relieved laugh as we headed out of my father’s office. Considering how conservative great parts of the Italian mob were, being together without being married would cause a scandal, but our relationship was scandalous on so many levels anyway.