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Sas grumbled, his lip curling into a snarl. He approached, and I kept my eyes on his waist, gauging his movement.
He said, “Maybe we should sign one of my brothers up to marry the Mafia bitch?”
I flinched at what he called Adelina.
Sas took the opportunity to move into my space. “You might be better at the business deals, but at least in the MC, we don’t pay off other clubs with our children and women.”
“You could’ve fooled me with how you’ve treated Adelina,” I said, working my jaw.
He rolled his eyes. “She’s a big girl. She can handle herself. You know who couldn’t... All the victims of la Famiglia’s human trafficking. From what I know, the Parisis served the Gambinos for how long? Decades?”
“The Parisi family would never,” I spat.
“Oh, but Massimo was one of the capos, no? That means you all stood by and let it happen,” he challenged, light glinting in his eyes.
I narrowed my eyes at him, reading his diversion “Are you really so insecure you can’t admit to having a problem with women?”
“Just your niece.”
“Doubtful.”
A bell rang, and Sas ran toward me, swinging his fist. I ducked, and he tried an upper cut, but I was already spinning away. Sas turned red in the face.
So much for the stoic front he’d been putting on. How easily he lost it when I managed to wiggle under his skin. Now I would make him squirm.
He rushed at me again, fists flying.
I dodged his blow, though his glove managed to brush my side. I needed to be faster.
It had been years since I’d fought like this. In the Marines, we used bare fists. I thought the MC would have too, but maybe they didn’t want to screw up their mugs any more than nature already had.
Sas moved quickly. I had to give him that much. He spun around, aiming for where I just was with his next blow. He was thinking with his heart. His moves weren’t calculated and sorely lacked the strategy he needed to best an enemy.
Fucking hell, Adelina would eat his ass alive with how strategic she was.
Each punch Sas tried to throw was too weak, and he grew more frustrated when his blows didn’t land correctly. I flexed, keeping my muscles taut to take each blow he gave.
When I burst free, I threw a series of punches. A hit to the ribs, then to the gut. Sas curled forward just as I’d planned. My glove connected with his face, sending him backward a few steps with his back arched and arms flailing.
The men watching let out deep groans, turning their faces away. Fuck, I hoped they weren’t squeamish. Or had they thought Sas would kick my ass?
Perhaps I should’ve challenged more than just Sas. This was too freaking easy.
Before Sas could clear his bleary eyes, I was on him again. I landed another punch to his gut, and he doubled over. He heaved. Beer splatted onto the floor and spittle drooled from his lips. He tried to raise his hands to block the next blow, but I punched him straight in the face. He dropped to the floor, sprawling flat on his back. Before he could attempt to jump to his feet, I dropped a knee into his chest.
He wheezed and struggled to get up.
“Stay the fuck down,” I muttered for only his ears.
“Never.” He tried to push up, but I pressed my weight down harder.
“You better get used to me on top of you,” I growled, and he narrowed his eyes into slits. “We’re family now.”
“We’re not?—”
I moved my knee into his solar plexus, and he harrumphed. His body flopped like a fish on a dock.
“Family’s family. Right or wrong, we stand by each other,” I said. “We protect what’s ours. I expect you would understand that, being part of the club, but now I know you can’t see past the end of your own nose. Massimo warned me about you, and I have my eyes peeled now,Tate. Everything you do, I will fucking be there. Your waking nightmare.”
