14. Grey
GREY
W rapping up my workout, I tore the tape off my hands, kicked the trembling soldier out, and turned off the stereo. We did need to find a stronger crop for sparring partners. Or grow one.
There was barely any blood during today’s session. I looked over at the bare gray mats. Tomorrow I’d get one of my brothers in here with me. I grinned. That was exactly what I needed to work off some steam. I’d grab Parker.
Every time I thought about how Amorette was almost killed because of him, my knuckles itched. He argued that she had been perfectly safe with Matías, but we hadn’t known that. And it was pure luck that Vicente wanted to fuck with us enough by giving her to the legitimate son. The heir.
Like, we gave a fuck about that.
We’d always been perfectly happy in our own world, away from the devious plays of the mansion. It was fun to rile Vicente when I felt like it, but I enjoyed my place in the Institution too much.
Matías was a puppet and a slave. He knew it and couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Vicente had always pulled him into meetings and made him attend events that we were excluded from. He probably thought that hurt our feelings, but none of us wanted to spend any more time with him than we had to.
The door to the hallway slammed against the wall, and footsteps padded toward the gym. Lafe appeared in a muscle tee and gym shorts. I snorted. He never worked out unless I forced him to.
“Why are you here?”
He glared and walked over to a treadmill. “A run. I have too much energy, and I slept like shit last night. If I wear myself out, I’ll be able to sleep better.” He grumbled the last bit, like he was trying to force himself to believe it.
I grabbed the tape off the metal chair and tossed it back in the bin. “What’s up your ass? When I saw you the other day, you were sleeping like a baby.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Lafe tensed, then slowly glanced over his shoulder. “When did you see me?”
“In the movie room after your trip.” Some of the blood fled his face. “What the hell is your deal? You're suspicious and creepy on the best days, but right now, you’re extra paranoid. You sniff today?”
I leaned my ass against the wall and crossed my arms.
“Nah.” He left it at that as he went through the program options.
Walking over, I gripped the side of the treadmill and took a good, long look at him. Lafe was a little sweaty, but otherwise, he had good color in his face. His hands weren’t shaky. He was telling the truth. “You’re following your rules?”
He flicked an irritated gaze at me. “Yes. Why the sudden interest?” He hit the start button, starting a slow walk, then quickly picking up into a jog.
I narrowed my eyes at him. This seemed like an avoidance tactic. But I couldn’t fault his question. Why did I care? We didn’t have this type of relationship. We didn’t shoot the shit for fun. We didn’t even have fun together.
Everything was a means to an end.
“Just checking. I’d hate to see you die from your own stupidity.”
He scoffed and faced forward. At least the view outside was nice and sunny today.
I turned away, but he stopped me with a comment.
“I’m going to start teaching Amorette how to read and speak Spanish.” His voice was normal, except for the slight pant between a few words.
“Okay…” Why the fuck did I care about that? I didn’t have the patience for it. I’d try to fuck her the minute she pursed her plush pink lips. It was better she worked with someone else, although Parker would have been my first choice if he wasn’t such as asshole.
“I’ll be spending time with her,” he threw down like a challenge, his chin tipping up.
Canting my head, I slowly walked back to the treadmill, bracing my arms against the front so we were face to face. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
He studied me for a long minute but didn’t say anything.
Eventually, he let out a long breath and shook his head.
“You’ve never had a woman in your bed like this.
How territorial are you going to be?” He pressed the speed button a few times and slowed down to a more manageable level to have a conversation.
I quirked an eyebrow. “Do I need to worry about you fucking her?” I asked drily.
“If it were going to happen, it would have before I ever caught sight of her. You had her to yourself for a week, and she hated you. Then you had another shot when she was in your apartment, and you fucking blew that too. Why should I worry about you?”
He snarled, cursing a blue streak, and I laughed.
“Turn the lights off when you leave!” I yelled over my shoulder as I left.
It was more of a Parker move to point out his shortcomings like that, but they were the truth.
If it were going to happen with them, it would have already.
Lafe was the one to blame. He let his fears and past get in the way of taking what he wanted.
One day he’d learn. It just wouldn’t be today.
Or tomorrow.
I’d just made it to my door when my phone rang. Enrique. My manager at the Venezuela hotel.
“Enrique.”
“Mr. Morozov, there’s a problem,” Enrique said.
I sighed. Fighting was the one business where there were hardly any issues. Men, and sometimes women showed up. They fought, and money was paid out. I didn’t even run the books. Not directly. I liked the low angst of the business.
“What’s wrong?”
“The Nogueira team is threatening to pull out. I spoke to the booker. There’s more than five hundred mil on this fight tonight, not including the openers. If they pull out, someone will die.” And it wouldn’t be Nogueira is what he’d meant.
Scratching the back of my head, I let myself into the apartment with my other hand, then brought the phone back up to my ear. “What about the Olesteens? They’re good?”
“They’re good. Hungover from a night at the strip club, but they’re good.” Then they were solid. Enrique wasn’t one to split hairs.
“What’s the issue with Nogueira?” I headed to the bedroom to get showered and dressed. I’d have to be on-site to fix this. These arrogant assholes never changed their minds over a phone call. They’d need an in-person reminder of why you didn’t fuck with Grey Morozov.
“Not sure. They came in fine, but over the last hour, they became belligerent.”
“Fine, I’ll be there in a few hours. Keep them in their suite if they can’t mind their fucking manners.” I ended the call and did a quick rinse.
Amorette wasn’t here, and I had no fucking clue where she was. I understood why Andre wouldn’t give her a phone, but being unable to pin her down was a nightmare now that we’d given her freedom to roam the compound.
I paused—we could always put a tracking device on her. That would solve so many of our problems. If Vicente ever took her again, we’d have her back before Vicente even got home.
Grinning at my reflection in the mirror, I chuckled. I’d mention it to Andre. He’d go for it. Maybe even Parker too.
* * *
The club was already open for business as I walked through the main floor.
Music blared from the speakers and sweaty gyrating bodies moved on the floor.
The bar was five people deep on all sides, and the fight girls down by the ring were emptying their trays before they even took a handful of steps.
A good night for business. The fun in sin was never slow. There were always assholes willing to party and women willing to fuck to find their next target. The fights and bets were just icing on the cake.
And the club revenue? Outside the books for the fights, the club and hotel were all mine.
One glass-eyed woman appeared in my path, pulling her top down with a finger and sending a sultry smile. I looked right past her and bumped her shoulder when I walked by. She was lucky she moved, because I would have fucking bowled her over. I moved for no one in my fucking club.
“ Cabrón !” she screeched behind me.
“Boss,” Enrique drawled from my left.
I glanced at him and grinned. The bastard was amused, he just didn’t want to show it.
“You give these thirsty bitches an inch, and they take a mile. She’s new, or she’d know better than to approach me.
Hopefully, that little display will be enough to discourage other women from trying something similar. ”
He nodded like he was pacifying me. “I’m sure someone will set her straight that you’d do much worse if she offended you.”
I grunted. “You say that like I like to hurt women.”
Shaking his head, his lips twitched. “You don’t seek to hurt women, and the only thing you have ever hurt on a woman is her pride.
But to these bitches,” he shook his head again and lowered his voice as we entered the hallway away from the bumping club music, “stomping on their pride is the worst offense there is. They’d just as soon have you kill their sister and fuck their mother than have you disrespect them in public like that. ”
Enrique was on point like he always was, the clever bastard. But he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know.
The rest of the walk to the suite Nogueira’s team occupied was silent.
I smoothed my hand down my dress shirt and adjusted the tie.
I hated these fucking suits. They choked the hell out of me, but I’d found when dealing with belligerent assholes like this, money talked.
Well, pain spoke, and flashing more cash than he’d ever hoped to make just firmly solidified me as superior in their heads.
I didn’t knock. I didn’t use a keycard. No, I kicked that motherfucker in.
We had a maintenance team on hand to fix it before we’d need it again, and I wanted to set the record straight. Palacio de Hielo was my fucking domain, and I owned everything in it while it was in the building. That included their sniffling little asses.
And it helped to send the message, I’ll damage my own property. What will I do to you?
Nogueira, a built man in his thirties with a full head of dark hair and skin glistening as if his team had already oiled him up, jumped to his feet.
“What the fuck! You can’t barge in here.” His face turned red and spit flew from his mouth. His manager and two of his crew surrounded his back. Nogueira was the only one of the bunch that was maybe a threat. The others were aging, balding and pudgy, living the high life off his earnings.
I gripped his neck and shoved him back until Nogueira had his manager pinned between him and the wall, then I pressed my body up against him and grinned. Neither man was going anywhere unless I allowed it.
Squeezing my thumb and fingers into his windpipe, I grinned wider when he started to gasp.
“This is my club. My hotel. My fucking kingdom. You don’t want to fight? That’s fine, but you’re going to pay the penalty. Enrique? Tell this asswipe the penalty for backing out hours before the fight.”
Enrique kept his voice smooth as he scared the shit out of Nogueira and his team.
“First, we take a finger from each member of the team. Including the fighter. Then if we’re not satisfied, we take the cocks.
Mr. Morozov is a master blade maker and has some of the best-serrated knives for punishment. ”
Blood drained from both Nogueira’s and the manager’s faces, from what I could see past Nogueira’s shoulder, anyway. That was impressive since Nogueira’s face resembled a hot pepper a minute ago.
“I don’t care why you’re upset. I don’t give a fuck if you feel slighted. You fight, or you lose your fucking cock. Then there’ll be no fucking in your future or for any member of your crew. Are you going to argue?”
He couldn’t speak but tried to shake his head against my grip.
“Nogueira will fight. There isn’t an issue. We were only—” one of the men tried to speak up, but another member punched him.
“Shut the fuck up!” the other man hissed.
I twisted my head. Now that was interesting.
“I changed my mind. I am interested in the reason you’re all being asswipes today.
Talk fast though, because Nogueira has about a minute before he passes out, and two before he dies.
” I gave a hard shove, pulling a grunt from the manager to emphasize my point.
The man, barely scraping five-foot, the one currently struggling for breath after being punched in the throat, held a hand up. “Please, sen?r ! Please! We mean no harm! This was not our intention! You—”
“I said shut the fuck up!” I think the other guy’s name was Smith–said. He pulled out a gun and shot his friend in the temple.
“Enrique, restrain him.” I loosened my grip so Nogueira had enough space to talk. “Another thing you need to learn—no one bloodies the suites except for me. Now, you have two seconds to talk before I take matters into my own hands.”
Nogueira coughed and reached up to wipe the sweat on his brow. “Vicente sends his regards—” he didn’t get the rest out. His other hand whipped something from his shorts, and I jumped backward just in time to catch his wrist. A nice little boy scout knife in his hand.
“Are you trying to kill me with that ridiculous thing?” I asked quietly, squeezing the bones in his hand together until he dropped the knife. When I glanced up, his mouth was slack and his eyes were squinted, hopefully in fear. “You’d need a longer blade to do any fatal damage from that angle.”
He stared back at me like he couldn’t understand anything I was saying. That was fine. Now that I knew Vicente had set this up, I no longer needed his explanations. Strengthening my hold on his throat, I reared back and hit his nose. Blood sprayed everywhere, and I grinned once again.
I repeatedly punched him in his eyes, cheeks, nose, and mouth. A great example of Chinese water torture. The same spots over and over until the pain was so excruciating he screamed.
And screamed and screamed.
The manager pinned behind him grunted and cried with every hit that fell on Nogueira. By the time I was done, the warm smatter of blood decorated my skin and Nogueira’s face was a bloody concaved mess.
“Enrique, call in the Carver. He’ll take on Nogueira’s fights and he’s more brutal anyway. The bookies will allow changes to bets until the fights start. Spread the word.”
Looks like I got my bloodshed today after all.