Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
We stood in the center of the room for a few minutes, Dmitry and Nikolai speaking in Russian, and Amara and Claudia having a quiet conversation between the two of them in Italian.
And then a door on the wall to my left, behind a row of lockers, opened and closed, and it was Gio who strode around them, freezing when he saw all of us standing there. Clearly, this was a surprise.
He still wore his skull mask, sweat dripping down his temples, with blood splattered on his chest—unrecognizable if we didn’t already know who he was. But I noticed he was tense. His hands were clenched tightly, and he paced back and forth.
Then Gio stopped moving, his gaze darting between Dmitry and Nikolai, this low sound of warning leaving him. When he ripped off the skull mask and gripped the material fiercely in his fist, I could see how pissed he was.
I looked at Claudia and Amara, and by their lack of shock over the fact that the fighter was Gio, it confirmed to him they already knew of his identity before he yanked off the disguise.
“You,” he said and pointed to Nikolai. “And fucking you,” Gio hissed under his breath and stabbed his finger toward Dmitry. “Both of you bastards actually brought my sisters down here? I thought for sure you’d realize how fucked up it would be to bring them after that conversation the other night. What the fuck is wrong with you assholes?”
Dmitry was tense, his hand still wrapped around Claudia’s waist as he kept her back to his chest. Nikolai chuckled deeply, placing himself in front of Amara, as if he thought her brother might hurt her.
Gio flared his nostrils and ran a hand over his face. “Plus, taking them to a fight is one thing. But bringing them to the backrooms—where you clearly wanted them to see me and have my identity revealed—is another.” He snarled as he looked at me, then back at them. “And bringing your little sister here? Bunch of motherfuckers. The both of you, Russian assholes. You knew they'd find out it was me in that ring.” He took a step toward my brothers, and they moved the women back and behind them.
“I would’ve found out eventually,” Claudia said, and all eyes were trained on her now. “I found paperwork last night with your signature on it, D'yavol. I recognized your penmanship. I figured it out that way. But if I hadn’t, I would’ve known the second I saw your tattoos.”
“Which was how I knew it was you,” Amara inserted.
Gio’s nostrils flared once again, and I saw his face become red. With a disgruntled sound, he turned from us, running a hand over his short black hair.
“Your husband just had to cross that line—”
“Watch it, motherfucker,” Nikolai was the one to snarl now, not liking his wife being spoken to in any way other than submissive respect.
Everyone stayed silent, as if they were waiting for one of these three men to lose their shit.
“I made a deal with Dmitry and Nikolai in order to fight in the underground circuit. They keep the winnings, and in return, they let me fight as often as I want.” And then he spun around, fire blazing in his eyes while they shot gasoline-soaked arrows at my brothers, as he forced his next words out through gritted teeth. Loudly. “And. They. Keep. Their. Fucking. Mouths. Shut.”
It was clear all truths were coming out tonight.
“If the Cosa Nostra found out what I was doing behind their backs, making deals with the Bratva without speaking to the Head of Italy first, chaos would ensue.”
And, of course, Nikolai had to open his mouth. “Get a fucking grip, man.” Amara hissed something unintelligible at him, which had him snorting like he found this shit funny. “Your brother is over here throwing a hissy fit. From where I’m standing, watching a six-foot-five, three-hundred-pound man act all pissy that his little sisters found out he is participating in illegal fights is hilarious to me.”
“Jesus Christ, brat,” Dmitry muttered in annoyance. “Shut the hell up.”
Nikolai cast him a narrow-eyed glance.
At that moment, Gio quickly rounded on Nikolai, and my brother pushed Amara back even farther, barking out orders in Russian to me. I reached for Amara, even though I knew Gio would rather die than have either of his sisters get hurt. Or me, for that matter.
Gio faced off with Nikolai, his eyes going cold, the aggression pouring off him tangible enough I had no doubt everyone felt it.
I could see Nikolai grin before he moved his head back and forth on his neck to crack it, took off his suit jacket, and then rolled his shoulders.
And then, faster than I could’ve expected, Gio clocked Nikolai, right in the side of the mouth. My brother’s head whipped to the side, and I could see his lip split and blood ooze out of the fresh wound.