33. Ara
Igather my composure. Even if I threw myself between them, neither would stop. At first, I thought Dmitri had been forced into this. But as I watch Luca approach the ring, I realize Dmitri wants this.
There’s a look in his gaze I’ve never seen before. A reminder we all have our own motives and demons to fight. He threw me under the bus… for this? But why? I know he most likely hates his father for casting out him and his mother. However what could he possibly gain from walking down this path? Perhaps he looked at my own motives and conviction in the same light.
Luca begins to take off his suit jacket and dress shirt. I swallow hard. The man has no right to be six foot four and every inch of him pure muscle. Considering he doesn’t do any regular workouts or at least none I’ve been able to discover in his routine, his body should not be this perfectly sculpted.
He’s as big as his champion who took two white masked men to carry him off the stage. Yet, they flung him over the ring like he was nothing. Maybe because he had been beaten, he was exactly that… Nothing now.
I can’t hear what Dmitri and Luca briefly whisper, but the moment Dmitri’s gaze looks my way Luca springs and Dmitri is barely able to dodge it.
“Keep your eyes on me,” Luca announces with a monstrous crazed smile.
“Looks like the match has begun already!” the announcer excitedly declares. Cash is being handed around crazily as bids are being placed.
I can see it now. Luca’s sharp blue gaze fixated on his prey. The two circle each other, and my heart is lunging out of my chest because these two might actually kill each other.
Yet, the two seem lazy as they circle each other. Unlike the previous fights, the two men taunt each other. These two were kindred spirits, the tension palpable.
Luca quietly says something and whatever it is it pushes Dmitri over the edge. His leg swings out, but Luca catches it and throws him across the ring. Dmitri takes the momentum to spring back and aim for his face.
Luca blocks it, and with lightning speed elbows into the back of Dmitri’s head and follows through with a kick. Dmitri hits the rope but this time doesn’t bounce back as quickly. He retracts blood from the back of his head, a mix of surprised and wild amusement.
The crowd cheers. Fuck. I think I’m going to be sick.
For all my sneaky, lying, and calculated ways, I’m not a killer. I came here to embrace Luca but how can I accept this extent of violence?
Dmitri had been the only person to help me get this far. I didn’t want him to die because of his association with me, even if Luca says he requested to be put in there himself.
Dmitri splits a smile. My stomach curdles as I realize he’s enjoying every part of this. A weird, underlying form of respect is radiating from Luca just because he stood back up. These men are twisted. I knew Luca was but to see this even from Dmitri is sickening.
Lorenzo leans over my shoulder. “The drink may make it easier to watch, Miss Barone.”
I’m grateful for his intrusion because I realize I’m about to shatter my cocktail glass by how tightly I’m holding onto it. I throw half the drink back hoping it knocks the edge off and fast.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He simply nods and straightens again. When I look back, Luca’s attention is now fixated on me, and I can’t breathe. I can’t move from this lethal man’s gaze.
It’s the split second of distraction Dmitri needs as he lands a hit. Barely. It splits Luca’s lip as he takes one step back and actually smiles.
They’re just standing there. Smiling at one another as they brutalize each other.
I wave Lorenzo over. “Does Luca always fight like this?”
He seems hesitant to answer at first. No doubt because he can see clear as day I should be the last person Luca should be flaunting or accepting into his space. He does anyway. “Mr. Armani hasn’t been in the ring since his father died, and he took over the role as head of the family.”
Luca was only twenty-two when he took over as the head of the family. So it had been years since he’d stepped back into the ring. The way he moved was as if he danced in that death trap daily. This world is so foreign to me, and I feel like I’m only understanding the surface of it. No amount of stalking prepared me for the magnitude and craziness of Luca Armani.
He even somehow looked younger in the ring. He may be thirty-four now but I can imagine how he might’ve looked back then. I wonder…was he leaner? Bigger? For once he looks like he is actually enjoying something. And that’s terrifying.
The two dodge one another and go blow after blow, their stamina outstanding. Blood now oozes from Luca’s eyebrow, and one of Dmitri’s eyes are swollen.
How are these two of the most outstanding citizens of New York no more than barbarians beneath? This place is full of secrets, and I’m suddenly realizing it’s also built on blood and personal ambition.
Dmitri goes for a bold swing. Luca takes it to the lip but we all realize too late it was intentional. He undercuts Dmitri in the ribs, and it immediately keels him over. I stand up as Luca kicks Dmitri on the ground. He goes flying across the mat.
Fuck. He’s going to kill him.
The moment I stand, however, Luca’s attention gravitates toward me again. Please, I mouth desperately. Because, although I don’t often have attachments to people and even though Dmitri might’ve betrayed me, I don’t want him dead for it. He is the only resource and help I’d had up until this point. I don’t want him being murdered by the same man who was most likely going to kill me—because of me.
Luca lazily smiles as he reaches out his hands. The crowd goes wild while Dmitri is trying to stand. I plead with Luca as best as I can. I hate this. Every part of it. He might be a lethal man. An underworld king of sorts. However, I can’t pretend to enjoy this.
Please, I ask again, this time bringing my hands to my chest.
Dmitri stands back up, wincing as he puts his hands in front of his face as if to block whatever Luca might do next.
It’ll only take one hit to bring him down. Most likely permanently.
Luca’s head rolls to the side as he stares at me. It’s primal and terrifying, a crazed look in his eye frightening because it has never been directed my way. I take a step back and Lorenzo catches my elbow, so I don’t fall back hastily into my chair.
By the time I look back up Luca is exiting the ring. The crowd goes silent and the announcer is licking his lips, the microphone suspended near his mouth as he waits to be in on what Luca is doing as he makes his way up the staircase. Dmitri is now squinting in my direction as well, confused as he wobbles back and forth.
One of the white masked men whisper into the announcer’s ear and the announcer breaks through his own fumbling to update the confused crowd. “I-It looks like The Playboy is the winner tonight. It would seem our host has previous engagements to attend.”
The crowd remains silent, still in disbelief and I doubt most are willing to vocally announce their annoyance. Everyone seems to be in shock. My heartrate rises as Luca stands before me. He towers over me in size. Blood runs down his eyebrow and lip as he reaches his hand out to me.
“You’ll be making it up to me, sweetheart. For not killing your disloyal friend.”
My mouth opens to dispute Dmitri isn’t my friend, but the words die on my lips. “You heard me,” is all I can manage to say. It’s my version of desperate pleading and somehow…this monster actually stopped.
“You were the only one I was ever listening to from the moment we stepped in here,” he says matter-of-fact. It shouldn’t have the effect it does on my heart. He doesn’t even realize what he said or the small heartstring it pulls on my chest. That’s bad. Very bad.
Lorenzo leans over to Luca. “It would appear your brother is here, sir.”
Any fleeting moment of reprieve or kindness slips as Luca yanks me up and into his chest. I’m so small against him and feel caged as he escorts me out of the room. I look over my shoulder at Dmitri who’s furiously staring up at us.
Not at me. Luca. Possibly for throwing the fight?
When we reach the staircase, Luca’s younger brother, Dario is making his way down the hall with two friends. I make a point to hide my face further into Luca’s chest. Although I look different from the one encounter Dario and I had, I don’t want to leave anything to chance. I can’t have him recognizing me—especially considering how much trouble that night has already gotten me into.
His brother pales slightly as Luca storms the hallway. “We heard you were fighting like the old days so we wanted to come and watch.”
“Leave,” Luca says as he barges between them.
“But—” With fierce speed and ferocity, Luca releases me and pins his brother against the wall by the collar of his shirt. Dario immediately puts his hands up, indicating he doesn’t want a fight.
“I clearly told you that you aren’t welcome here. You fuck up everything you touch. And if you fuck up one more time, I promise you I will call Ivan back to take you back to Italy.”
Ivan.
If he were called back to New York, wouldn’t that also raise the likelihood of Luca returning to Italy? They always swapped to maintain duties both in New York and Italy simultaneously.
What would be the catalyst to piss Luca off so much he has to send his brother back? What would divide them? In the way they interacted now, it obviously wouldn’t take much.
That’s what I need to exploit.
Instead of drawing Luca closer, perhaps I need to break him from the inside on a very obvious wound. And that is his brother.
Luca releases him and tucks me back under his shoulder as he leads me away. Dario is left behind, embarrassed. His friends actively avoiding one another’s gazes.
Luca whispers into the top of my hair as his knuckles tighten through my threaded fingers. “Now you owe me some explanations.”