CHAPTER ELEVEN
Serafina
“Stay close,” Matteo murmured, his hand finding the small of my back. My body quaked with a shiver. I wasn’t sure if it was because of his touch, the cold night air, or the thought of entering The Pit.
As the heavy door swung open, The Pit swallowed me whole the moment I stepped inside. A wall of sound hit me first, hundreds of voices merged into a roaring beast that vibrated through my chest, every muscle shaking with the thunderous sound.
I tried to inhale, but the air felt too thick. Heavy with sweat, blood, death… and something weirdly primal that made my stomach churn with revulsion.
The corridor we entered was dimly lit and then The Pit revealed itself, in all its deadly glory.
It was a cavernous space, what was probably once an abandoned warehouse now transformed into what I could only describe as a gladiator arena. There was a raised platform at the center, surrounded by a metal cage.
“God,” I whispered, the words lost in the relentless cacophony.
They were going to fight in a cage. Like rabid animals.
The crowd surrounded the platform, most of them standing, screaming… drunk on violence and anticipation. All of it… this… looked almost inhumane.
My legs wobbled beneath me as Matteo led me through the warm, sweaty bodies with Giulia following closely behind me. People parted for us, recognition flashing in their eyes as they noticed Matteo and they all followed with nods of acknowledgement. Maybe out of respect or perhaps fear.
The crowd’s energy was feral, faces contorted with bloodlust as they screamed and jeered, waving fistfuls of cash in the air. Men in suits moved through the crowd collecting bets.
My eyes moved around The Pit, trying to take everything in, but it was almost impossible. There were too many people, too much noise, too much happening that I couldn’t understand.
Matteo led me to an elevated section, cordoned off with red velvet ropes, where leather chairs were arranged.
Around the perimeter, bodyguards stood, arms crossed and their expressions carved from stone.
But their eyes… they took everything in, surveying the crowds as if everything and everyone was a danger.
I could only assume this was the VIP section. I nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. Luxury in the midst of savagery.
My steps faltered when I saw my brother, heart thudding in my chest.
He noticed me at the same time, his face contorting with confusion at first as if he couldn’t believe his eyes and then… fury filled them.
He stood up and stalked toward us, expression thunderous. He looked entirely out of place in his tailored suit, yet somehow perfectly at home amid the violence. It was unusual to see my brother in such a place, though I didn’t know why it felt different.
Maybe because I had been used to seeing Damon so composed, a silent rule-follower since I had come back home.
But he was a man, after all. The heir to the Morelli family and the future of the Chicago Outfit. Of course he’d be at home in a savage place like this.
My brother stopped before me, eyes flickering between me and Giulia, before they narrowed dangerously on me. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice barely audible over the crowd’s roar.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Matteo answered for me.
“I invited her,” he said smoothly, letting my hand go before taking a seat. “It seemed appropriate that she understood all aspects of our... business interests.”
Damon’s jaw clenched. “I was speaking to my sister.”
Matteo waved a hand dismissively. “You’re here. She’s here. You’re her chaperone. So it’s not breaking any rules.”
“She’s not supposed to be here, in a place like this. She’s too inno—”
“Innocent?” Matteo chuckled. “Your sister isn’t as fragile as you think she is. I wouldn’t have brought my future wife here if I didn’t think she could handle it.”
“Men either come here to make money or to die. She has never witnessed death before. Why do you think she can handle it?” Damon’s voice rose and I could see he was getting visibly more irritated, his words punctuating with protective rage.
I reached out, gripping Damon’s arm in an effort to calm him down. “It’s okay. I was curious too.”
“Everyone has to witness death at least once in their lifetime and no one is ever prepared,” Matteo drawled as he stretched his legs out in front of him. “Maybe she will stare death in the eyes tonight, who knows.”
He looked at me before motioning toward the seat next to him. “Sit.”
My gaze flickered between my brother and my fiancé. Damon’s chest rumbled with a low growl. “Fine,” he spat out. Except it was anything but fine.
Shit, I really think I’m in trouble.
I let go on Damon’s arm and I sank into the chair gracefully, my legs trembling beneath me. Giulia settled beside me, her face uncharacteristically pale.
Damon sat next to her, arms crossed. He looked straight ahead at the fighting cage, his expression tensed.
I slowly looked around, taking in our “more” private surroundings. The entire VIP section was conspicuously empty despite the packed venue. It was clearly reserved for us.
Scantily clad women carrying trays of drinks approached us but Matteo waved them away. “No need for tonight,” he said casually.
I watched them saunter away, their lips curving with a devilish grin and for a moment I almost felt… inadequate. These were tall, beautiful women and they knew how to seduce, how to serve, how to carry themselves with confidence I didn’t possess.
If Matteo was surrounded by women like them, how was I going to capture his attention?
“Look over there,” he said, fingers grazing my bare arm. Goosebumps scattered over my skin and my spine quivered with an involuntary shudder.
We were to be married soon and I still couldn’t find myself comfortable with his touches.
Yet…
The image of Adrian’s lips on mine flashed through my mind.
My heart catapulted to my throat and I blinked, forcing the thought away. I looked at where Matteo was pointing.
From where I was sitting, I had the perfect view of the cage.
Two men were being dragged out—one unconscious, the other barely standing, blood streaming from a gash above his eye. It was obvious who won.
God, this place was barbaric. Medieval.
I inhaled and the stench of sweat and blood grew stronger making my stomach churn. I pressed my fingers to my lips, trying to steady my breathing as the cage cleared.
A voice boomed through hidden speakers and it was impossible to pinpoint where it was coming from with how dark The Pit was. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat tonight.”
My heart thudded.
The crowd’s roar intensified, a deafening sound that vibrated through my bones. I flinched, my hands almost coming up to cover my ears before I caught myself in time. My fingers gripped my dress tightly instead.
“The Reaper returns!”
The familiar name sent a shiver down my spine, almost like a zap of electricity sliding through my body.
“The Reaper versus Stone! Let’s see if The Reaper still has what it takes!”
The crowd erupted into a frenzy, their screams and chants merging into one primal sound. Money exchanged hands frantically, bets being placed at a feverish pace.
My heart hammered against my ribs as the cage door opened.
Thud.
A hush fell over The Pit as a figure emerged from the shadows of the tunnel entrance.
And then, there he was…
Thud. Thud.
The Reaper.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Adrian prowled into the center of the ring.
The crowd roared.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He wore the same black shirt and pants he had on when I had seen him at the stable, sleeves rolled up to reveal those intricate tattoos curling around his muscular forearms. His dark hair fell across his forehead, slightly damp with sweat already.
With the way he was dressed, he looked entirely out of place amid the bloodthirsty crowd—too refined, too controlled. Yet somehow, he commanded the space as if it were his own personal kingdom.
He walked around, his movements fluid and predatory. Confident and deliberate. He belonged here.
I couldn’t look away.
Matteo leaned closer to whisper, “Adrian has quite the reputation here. They call him The Reaper because he never loses.”
They chanted his name and every chant echoed through my bones. “Reaper! Reaper! Reaper!”
He didn’t acknowledge anyone. Not the screaming fans and not even his opponent who was being announced. I swallowed hard, watching him as he circled the cage, stretching his neck from side to side.
Then Adrian stopped. Right in the middle of the cage.
His head turned slowly, deliberately… and his eyes, those stormy blue eyes locked directly onto mine, with unerring precision.
The world seemed to narrow to just that moment, one single second—an illicit, undeniable connection. The noise, the crowd, everyone and everything faded into insignificance.
For a single existing moment, it was just me and Adrian.
Thud.
His gaze held mine, intense and unwavering. There was something in his expression, something dark… something primitive. A brazen challenge or a menacing promise, I didn’t know.
I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to, even if I had been forced to.
And then…
The corner of his mouth lifted in that infuriating half-smirk that made my heart stutter and my stomach flutter.
Goddamn it.
It was Adrian that broke the spell, snatching his gaze from mine as another massive man joined him in the cage.
Stone, presumably.
He was enormous, taller and much bigger than Adrian. He was shirtless, his monstrous muscles bulging beneath his skin. It almost looked unreal. Not human. His face was a mask of rage and anticipation. He bounced on his toes, shaking out his massive arms like an untamed warrior.
My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, uneasiness filling my veins.
How was Adrian going to fight a man like this and walk out alive?
I turned toward Matteo, an inexplicable fear slithering under my skin. But he didn’t seem the least bit concerned that his brother was about to fight such a man.