Chapter 10
Dominic
“Shit, I’m sorry,” she says as I grab her, yanking her back towards me hard enough that she slams into me again. Her small, soft hands brace against my bare chest. I feel bad for a second because I am so nasty right now, though I suppose it comes with the territory.
When she looks up at me, she freezes, and I get a full glimpse of her now.
She’s pretty. Scratch that. She’s stunning.
Long, shimmering brown hair that is so dark it’s nearly black.
Brown eyes that are the same color as the Old Fashioned I drank last night.
She smells amazing. Fruity and floral all at the same time.
Her dress is emerald and hugs her in all the right places.
She’s gone a little overboard on her makeup, though I don’t mind.
She’s gorgeous. And I almost knocked her over.
“No, it’s my fault,” I tell her, something I don’t say very often. Not that I’m never sorry, but I’m not usually in the wrong. This girl could be the clumsiest woman on the planet, and I’d still count this as my fault. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
She nods. Then, as if she’s just now realizing she is touching me, her hands snap back so fast you’d think they’d caught on fire when they landed on my chest. “Of course,” she says with a small smile.
There is something familiar about her mouth, her lips to be precise.
It flashes through my mind like a dream, or maybe even a memory.
“Have we met before?” I ask. She smiles, taking a step back.
“You mean you wouldn’t remember me if we had?
” she asks, and it pulls a smirk out of me.
Lucky girl. Being here is usually my twisted version of R I dodge.
I swing; he ducks. After another thirty seconds of impressive defense, I slam my knuckles square into his mouth, hard enough that his mouth guard knocks loose.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as it flies across the ring. He’s motioned by the cutman to step out for another guard and probably to get his teeth counted. But Rafe ignores him.
“Playing dirty tonight, Old Man?” he asks, and I pull my guard loose.
“Figured I’d stoop to your level for once, Shaeffer,” I tell him as we pivot in the other direction. Rafe takes it the way I expect him to–as a challenge.
His hips rotate slightly to fuel a thrust as his fist snaps toward me. A half a step back is enough to avoid the contact, but I know this kid. He’s famous for following his lead hook with one from the rear, a killer punch if he can land it. Luckily, it’s a miss.
“When are you going to stand down, Wolfe?” he asks. “Make this easier on yourself and back off. Here, and with the Golden Rule bid,” he says, dodging a jab.
“I would, except I don’t want to make things easier for you,” I say, following up the jab with a cross. His head swerves, and I catch him on the shoulder. It throws my stance, and he gets me good with an uppercut.
It catches me across the bottom of my jaw and is almost enough to knock my lights out.
“The fact that you can’t keep up with me even on a good day makes it easy enough,” he grins. I don’t know where it comes from, but a surge of rage bullets through my arm and I slam him with an uppercut straight to the teeth.
Pain hits my knuckles just as Rafe hits the floor. He pulls his face up and glares at me through the blood. “This isn’t over, Wolfe,” he spits.
“Nope,” I say as I duck out of the ring. “Not even close.”
Andrew sprints to follow me as I stalk towards the locker room.
“Are you crazy fighting without a guard?” he asks. “What the hell happened up there?”
“Exactly what I expected to happen,” I tell him. “Went to battle, and he started a war.”
That night when I get home, I am still fuming.
I don’t hit the shower or even the sack.
I go straight for the liquor cabinet. I never lock it because I have no reason to.
The only person that comes in and out of my house aside from Andrew is the maid, and she’s always been well-behaved.
Other than her sass mouth from time to time.
She’s a little saltier than I’d prefer, but a bratty maid is the least of my problems right now.
Rafe is on the fast track to outbid me for the Golden Rule deal, which is going to fuck up my life in more ways than one.
It’s not like I can just grab a random girl and force her to marry me.
Even if there were someone viable just standing around, the legalities of it all will take time.
Obviously, it wouldn’t be the real deal, so a pre-nup is nonnegotiable.
No woman in her right mind would be interested in more than my money.
I’m not exactly known for my tender heart.
Speaking of tender, my knuckles are killing me. Fuck that man and his pretty teeth. I run my hand under cold water while finishing my first glass of whiskey. It’s not enough to numb me entirely, but all the whiskey in the world couldn’t do that.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I shut the water off to pull it out, wincing as my skinless hand brushes the fabric. Then I see the text.
Andrew: Rafe counted it as a walkout. Took the win. He’s been a drunken idiot ever since.
Dominic: What’s new?
Andrew: He’s telling everyone he’s got the Golden Rule deal in the bag.
“Godamnit,” I shout as I throw my glass across the room.
It hits a mirror on the wall, shattering it before bringing the whole thing to the ground.
I run my good hand through my hair before reaching for the whiskey bottle and taking a gulp.
I suck my teeth hard as the alcohol sneakily finds the cuts in my mouth, and I round the counter to the living room.
None of this would even be a problem if I could just get my hands on that money.
MY money. But because my dad is notorious for being a pain in my ass, I’m in a bind.
That has never stopped me before. A photo on the other side of the room, one of him and my mom, seems to stare at me, and I return the eye contact.
As usual, he’s smiling. Smug. Like he knows he’s inconveniencing me.
Without better judgement I throw the half-empty bottle of whiskey at the frame, sending it and the bottle crashing in a mess on the hard floor.
Then I walk back through the living room towards my bedroom, my shoes crunching on the glass with every step.
The maid is going to have her work cut out for her tomorrow.