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So, I am curious what he might gain from this fight, and whether the confident disowned heir could keep up.
“Luca, this isn’t funny,” Ara pleads. “I really don’t like violence.”
The only way Dmitri is going to make it out of that ring now will be of his own doing. He wanted to be in there. Who am I to intervene with a man’s pride?
“It’s okay. I told my champion to try his hardest not to kill him.”
She turns a shade of green, but her gaze is locked on the ring.
“Begin!” the announcer says. The two bounce around one another for a moment. My champion toys with him a little, but Dmitri doesn’t fall for his taunts. My champion lunges for him, and with swift movement Dmitri is beside him and side jabs into his ribs then jumps back before he’s punched in the face.
My eyebrows perk up. Interesting, he’s fast. With his speed, he makes up for his lack of size compared to Tony, and that jab was a sharp, intended hit.
I roll my thumb over Ara’s knee. “Breathe, Ara.”
She releases a shaky breath. I hate how invested she is…because of him.
Tony lunges for him again, but this time he does catch Dmitri and slams him against the post. Dmitri blocks his face as Tony pulls him down to knee him in the stomach. Dmitri doubles over momentarily before throwing two punches back, forcing Tony back into the defense. He’s quick to put distance between them.
Adaptable. It’s surprising, but the Bratva cub can fight. He wipes at his brow, heavily breathing, and that’s when I see it. The cold calculation in his gaze but also the deathly sentence in his penetrating stare.
I can’t help but smile. Interesting. So he is a killer after all.
The two exchange a few more blows, but nothing other than toying with one another. Tony charges for him again, but with swift movement Dmitri steps around him and in a split-second kicks into the back of Tony’s knee on a downward angle. The break is audible as it forces him to drop to his knees.
With lightning speed, Dmitri is behind him, his arms around his neck. Tony tries to pry his fingers but grunts in pain as Dmitri kneels on his broken knee and pushes it further out by the calf and twisting it into an awkward angle.
Tony tries to stand but Dmitri toys and plays with his injury, and the chokehold is wearing him out. My eyebrows furrow. This is his win. Few had ever actually beat my champion, and after this he will certainly be demoted.
A few seconds pass, and with absolute conviction, Dmitri takes a step back as Tony falls forward. It’s not my unconscious champion I watch but how Dmitri steps away from the body, the cold predatory gaze in his expression. His thirst not yet quenched as he watches the first row of shocked onlookers trying to find his next prey. Maybe I like him after all.
My gaze shifts to Ara whose nails have dug so deeply into my hand that I’m even more pissed. She cares about his safety. I’m the only one I want her attention on.
“The winner is…the Playboy!” the announcer declares.
Curses erupt from the crowd with only a few cheers in celebration. Money begins to be handed out.
Dmitri is hardly exhausted, and I can tell this fight hasn’t at all quenched his thirst. Maybe that’s the reason why he wants to be here tonight. Because he wants to unleash this part of him. It’s a sentiment I understand well.
“Take a seat, sweetheart,” I say as I pick Ara up and place her where I sat.
She grips my arm, trying to mask her fear. “What are you doing?”
I offer an arrogant smile. “Giving the man what he came for. A real fight.”
Lorenzo watches me as I descend the podium, and others are suddenly aware of my presence as they step to the side. Tony is being dragged off as the announcer seems startled by my approach. I flag him over and whisper into his ear. His eyes go wide.
When I look up at Dmitri, I realize he’s still in the ring. He’s staring at me, and I offer another arrogant smirk; he returns it with a blood-crazy gaze.
“Ladies and gents, it’s time to put your bids in because this is a spectacle to be seen. Our own host, Mr. Armani, will be fighting tonight.”
The room is silent for a moment- shocked even, until a wide cheer explodes throughout the room. How many years had it been since I stopped fighting for sport? When I was in my younger twenties I thrived in this arena. I was always trying to quench my thirst. But now I have other motives to step back into it. I look back at Ara and she’s standing now, her eyes wide.
Male pride rolls through me. Good.
Her eyes are on me now.
I’m about to give her a show.
