Chapter 8
CONALL
The atmosphere of the fight complex was amazing.
The crowd was pumped with rows of seats packed to the brim.
In the center of the arena was a large cage where the matches took place and two fighters were already getting ready.
One of them was the Ukrainian, Volodyrmyr Mishura—or the Mongoose, as they called him, and the other was Polish. I didn’t know his name yet, though.
Behind me were Vail and his partners—Cillian, Rowen, Aspen, and Fallon—as well as Daire, Ronan, and a couple of other men, while Fionn stood beside me. He’d never liked these matches very much, but we were here for the Company.
Sloan had set up a fight for Fallon when Fallon had told him he wanted to get back into the ring, and now Fallon’s fight was rapidly approaching. It wasn’t tonight, but soon. We needed to show our faces and socialize.
“Fuck, this is beautiful.” Fallon bounced on his toes, an excited grin stretched over his handsome face. He had his long blond hair pulled up into a bun on the back of his head and wore a suit like the rest of our men. Fionn did as well, but I went for something more casual.
I had on a black long-sleeved shirt with mesh sleeves and cutouts—nipples covered to save the churchgoers from heart palpitations—and waistcoat buttons on the bottom strip.
A piece of black, pleated fabric flared out at the bottom, swaying as I walked, drawing everyone’s attention to the one thing they couldn’t see.
The pants were black and tight, showing off my arse, and I had a pair of black boots.
The new, deep forest green collar with silver spikes Sloan had given me sat securely against my neck. I felt comfortable. Powerful.
My headache was a little better tonight, but there was a blurriness in the edges of my vision that I was more than happy to ignore.
Logically, I knew I’d been unwell for far too long and I should talk to Rory, but I was in denial.
Sue me. I put it down to migraines or stress.
Sloan wasn’t here, and I was helping Fionn run a mob business.
I barely slept without Sloan at my side and eating was difficult.
I needed my boss back. My heart longed for him.
“Don’t get too excited, boy,” Cillian drawled, clearly unimpressed. “Ye’ve got a lot of work to do.”
I caught Fallon rolling his eyes from the corner of mine. “I was a professional once.”
“Aye, but ye let yerself go. Ye didn’t practice yer fightin’ skills for too long.”
Vail huffed. “Cillian, give him a break for one night. This is supposed to be fun.”
It wasn’t, but I didn’t voice it. Vail was innocent when it came to mob life, even though he was dating four mobsters.
Or maybe oblivious was the better word. He was smart as hell, studied mafia history until he could teach it at Manhattan Central University, but he saw only what he wanted when it came to his men. It was sweet and so was he. Too sweet.
The arena was loud and the crowd was buzzing, voices overlapping above the thumping music.
The lights were dim, giving people a chance to find their seats, but they were still bright enough to make me wince.
I had to close my eyes for a moment to catch my breath.
This event was underground, created by criminals for criminals and run by one of the savviest men I’d ever met.
I’d only been in the room with him twice, both times with Sloan, but Crux Loveless was equally scary and swoon worthy.
Sloan didn’t know I thought the last thing about him, though. The man deserved to live.
Loveless was over by the Ukrainians, and I nodded toward them so Fionn would notice. He gave me a head tilt in acknowledgement, and together, we led our men in that direction.
As soon as we reached them, Loveless turned toward me, a grin spreading over his face.
He damned near bounced on his toes. He was a man with a body full of tattoos that he hid under a leather jacket and jeans.
Dark hair hung around the corner of hazel eyes, matching the short beard and upper lip sweater he kept neat and tidy.
“Conall Morrissey and Fionn Killough. Two of my favorite people.” He grasped my hand and took a step back to give me a slow once-over.
“My love, you look mouthwatering as always.”
Fionn cleared his throat, making Loveless laugh.
“You do, too, of course, Killough Junior. Absolutely divine.” He made a show of licking his lips. “I don’t know if I want to eat you all up or eat you out.”
Daire crowded behind Fionn at the same time I rolled my eyes.
“Mr. Loveless, you know the rules. Restraint. Use it. I’m a taken man and so is Fionn.” I smirked.
Loveless gasped and laid a hand on his chest. “Mi amor, you break my heart insinuating I flirt with men other than you.”
“And here I was thinking I was the one you focused your attentions on, Crux,” said a blond man seated beside the Ukrainian boss, Fedir Soletsky. The young man stood and held out his hand, which I shook. “Kyta Soletsky-Lazarenko.”
Realization dawned on me as I slid my gaze to Fedir and his right-hand man, Roman. Then, I turned my attention back to Kyta. “You’re Fedir’s son and . . . Roman’s husband.”
The Ukrainian mob from Pennsylvania were our allies, and while we’d heard about Fedir’s son’s marriage to Roman, we hadn’t been invited.
It was a small ceremony for close family, but Fedir had sent Sloan a thank-you card for the suggestion of marrying his son to someone to calm him down.
From what I remembered, Kyta was a partier and a brat, and Fedir had reached his breaking point when it came to his only son.
This was the first time I’d met Kyta and he wasn’t what I’d anticipated.
He looked younger than I’d expected, with short dark blond hair and a splash of freckles across suntanned cheeks.
He wore fitted jeans that melded with his thighs and an even tighter shirt that could’ve passed for a second skin.
When Roman stood to wrap his arm around Kyta’s shoulders, I realized Kyta barely reached the taller man’s shoulders.
“I am this one’s husband, yeah.” Kyta grinned up at Roman.
Fedir also rose and held out his hand to me, and I shook it with respect before he did the same with Fionn.
There were always a lot of handshakes at events like these.
“I’m sorry to hear about Sloan going to Rikers.
As we told you when you reached out with the news, you have our full support.
” He gave me a lopsided smile. “Unless we’re in there.
” He nodded toward the cage in the center of the room. “Then, we like winning.”
I laughed when Fallon sputtered behind me. “We’ll see. Our man is good at what he does. He’s a former MMA fighter.”
“Mm. Fallon Maher.” Loveless’s gaze drifted behind me to stare at Fallon. “I forgot how pretty you were. A real jewel.”
“Eyes to yourself, Loveless.” Aspen shifted closer to Fallon’s side while Cillian took the other.
They weren’t the type I’d want to mess with.
They were both brawny and had killed a lot of men with their bare hands.
They were titans protecting their partners, and the suits they wore did nothing to hide their strength.
Their possessiveness was hot to watch. Aspen shifted, his fingers twitching like he wanted to grab his gun.
His navy tie complemented his umber skin.
It was strange to see him without his favorite cap, but he also looked nice with his short dark hair on display.
“He’s not yers to ogle,” Cillian agreed with a glare. Like Aspen, he was wearing navy as well, and when I’d first seen them, I’d held back a joke about them matching each other. His light brown hair was slicked back, and while he looked suave, he was no less threatening.
Vail and Rowen sidled near, too, and it was damned adorable how defensive they were of each other. The moment Loveless’s eyes went to Vail, I knew I needed to put a stop to his pointless flirtations. He was purposely riling people up to get them in the mood for fight night.
“Mr. Loveless. Crux. Stop teasing my men.” I gave him a sweet smile with a hint of serious warning. “Their boyfriends are here to defend them tonight, and you know how agitated they get when a person of your . . . prestige flirts with the men who belong to them.”
Loveless laughed and held up his palms. “Fine, I relent.”
A loud boisterous argument broke out somewhere behind me, and Loveless’s expression changed in the blink of an eye.
The playfulness disappeared and ferocity slid onto his face instead, then the scary side of him came out to play.
It was almost as if someone had turned off the heat.
Cold seeped into my veins and under my skin.
I’d never seen someone’s mood change so whip fast, but Loveless took his business very seriously.
Anyone messing with his pride and joy ended up dead. Loveless took joy in torture.
“Excuse me. I have a couple of guests to handle,” Loveless murmured, crackling anger lingering in his tone as he swept past me, Fionn, and our men.
Kyta shivered. “Fuck, he scares me.”
“It’s best to stay on his good side,” I admitted with a snort.
Fedir laughed. “I would agree, especially after seeing what he’s done to people.”
“What has he done to people?” Vail asked, eyes wide with the kind of curiosity that would get him killed one day if he wasn’t careful. Sloan had moved mountains to keep Vail safe after he’d pushed one too many of the wrong buttons in the criminal underground.
I shook my head. “Nothing for you to worry about, Vail.”
Vail opened his mouth, but Rowen shushed him quietly and laid a kiss on his cheek. Almost immediately, Vail relaxed and leaned into Rowen with a sigh.