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I’m next.
“Ara?” Luca is watching me intently. My every movement and breath analyzed.
I push away the fear, pissed by its resurfacing and take hold of the role I have to play tonight.
“They’re so violent,” I say, directing my gaze back to the ring.
The smaller fighter is being pummeled. The bulkier man with scars over his body and face is roaring in premature victory.
Luca guides me to a vacant seat, more like a throne that has central unblocked views of the ring. He takes a seat and doesn’t even hesitate as he pulls me into his lap. The surrounding men and very few women take barely any notice of us because they’re so engrossed by what’s happening in the ring.
I push down the vile reminder of the hand and foot he only sent me days before as he strokes his thumb over my knee, leans in and whispers. “I prefer your natural hair. Role play doesn’t do too much for me, by the way.”
“I have to go to these lengths so my father doesn’t find out about us meeting. Or I really will be married by next week.”
I could easily run away from my father’s expectation and pressures to marry someone of his choosing. However, then I’d lose everything I’d worked so hard for. I need to remain close to my father while he’s still completely unsuspecting I’m using him and his business to remain in New York.
His grip bruises my leg. “He can try. If you’d like I can kill your father? Just ask and it’ll be done.”
My heart skips a beat by the ease in which he says it like a promise. Because I know Luca would do it without a doubt. “Despite all my father’s faults, I don’t want you killing him, Luca.”
He casually shrugs. “You want to keep us a secret, and I’m hellbent on telling the world.”
“Us?” I croak out.
The bigger fighter uppercuts the smaller one who drops to the ground unconscious. The room goes wild and cheers.
“There is no escaping, Ara. I’ve made that very clear from the start.”
I’m surprised. Does he actually think the gifts, stalking, and overzealous behavior is seductive? Granted, I’ve fallen for it numerous times but surely I’m not that far gone or depraved. I remind myself I’m here for a reason, none of which is based on any form of relationship with Luca, despite what he might tell himself.
“Now for the fight you’ve all been waiting for!” an announcer declares. “Our house champion vs. the self-nominated playboy.”
The crowd begins to boo and divide. It’s not until he’s closer to the ring and I recognize the person and my jaw drops. I go to stand but Luca’s firm grip pins me in place in his lap.
“He’s going to die in there,” I desperately say to Luca.
“Would you believe he actually ratted you out, and this was part of his terms. He wanted to fight.”
Goose bumps erupt over my body, and I feel like I’m going to break out into a sweat. Fuck, what did Dmitri tell him? Did he really betray me? Whatever it was, Luca has sat on this information all week, simply waiting until I came and found him myself, which was even more terrifying.
“Dmitri was the one kind enough to tell me about your history and former hits. How do you think I got their names, Ara?” His tone is provoking. “He also told me you tried to hack into his database to gain information about me. Have you found what you’re looking for yet, sweetheart?” I feel the threat and search the room. No one is watching us. Their eyes are glued to the ring as people make their bets.
What else does he know?
“How unusual for you to be so quiet.” He smirks, and in the dark room, his blue eyes glare at me as a cruel reality sinks in. Was he waiting for me to come to him like this so he could finally be done with me? I look back to the men in the masks. A cruel reminder of fate resurfacing.
I steady my heartbeat. Luca hasn’t mentioned the reason why. So maybe Dmitri didn’t tell him? Or maybe he did, and this is yet again another game.
Dmitri steps into the ring, and Luca leans forward, interested. “Now, let’s see what the outcast Bratva prince can do.”
32
LUCA
It was fleeting, but Ara definitely flinched when hearing Dmitri had betrayed her. Still, I hate the way she watches him with concern. I wanted to see his ass handed to him before, but now I want him absolutely brutalized. Another example for my little stalker to understand who she’s dealing with. With a snap of my fingers, every bone in his body could be broken.
Dmitri unbuttons his dress shirt and peels it away from his body. From the intel I’d gathered on his father, the self-proclaimed lion is ruthless. I’ve never personally had dealings with him because my father had mostly run them out of New York, and I’d finished it. They had, however, left a cub behind. Not that Dmitri had anything to do with his father since the age of five when his mother and him were disowned. But, I’ve found blood always had a calling.
