Chapter Thirty Nine Dragna
Chapter Thirty Nine
Dragna
I watch Ivans fight from the cameras in my office. He enjoys it as a hobby of sorts, to just have a bit of fun, so we always put him on the undercard.
I can’t bring myself to sit down there in the crowd of people and pretend to care about anything else other than the fact that Willow knows the truth.
She knows the truth because I lost all fucking control and I blew up.
Now she’s in Boston, probably getting ready to head out for their first night out and I’m stuck here while we aren’t speaking and I have no clue if she’s safe.
My only reassurance is knowing she’s wearing her necklace.
I told Lev before he took her home to give it to her and to ensure she took it with her to Boston, no fucking arguments.
All I’ve done is watch her tracker flash on my phone screen all day.
I down another drink as I look back to the computer and see the ref raise Ivans hand, signifying he won his fight.
I don’t care about the money we’ll make tonight from these fights, I just want to know exactly what Willow is doing right now and how she feels.
I pull up our texts messages and debate messaging her again not caring if I seem desperate.?
Fuck I am a desperate man. I wasn’t lying either, I will get on my knees and beg for her to forgive me, to let me take care of her, for even just a simple text back from her.
Why the fuck does she have to be out of the city this weekend when we have one of our biggest nights of fights on. The timing couldn’t be worse.
I know for Lev’s fight I’m going to have to act the part and show my face cage side, but since that isn’t for a couple more hours, I stay where I am, watching the tracker blink back at me while I continue drowning my fucking sorrows.
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“HE’S HEAVY ON THE FRONT LEG!” I shout from Lev’s corner.
“BLYAD', VYTASHCHI YEGO, brAT!” I shout again and he throws a brutal kick to his opponents shin, knocking his leg out from under him.
Lev pounces on him on his way down, landing a vicious jab before a right hook that completely throws the poor fucker to the ground.
He delivers a knock out hammer fist that bounces the guys head off the canvas as the ref throws himself between the two of them to stop the onslaught Lev would keep giving while calling the fight over.
The arena erupts in cheers and chants in celebration of Lev winning and Ivan and Anton jump over the cage to grab him, throwing him up on their shoulders and parade him around while he holds his fists in the air and shouting in celebration himself.
I pound my fist off the outside of the cage happy with the victory and proud of Lev for getting the job done quickly. He barely has a scratch on him. The only injuries he has are the ones on his hands from the beating he dished out.
I start to see all the money being exchanged and collected within the crowd, all the bets being paid up and paid out.
These are the smaller bets, the ones I don’t necessarily care about.
The main bets, the reason we run this MMA promotion, will be coming in through a secured custom-built app that’s manned by Nikolai so I don’t need to stay any longer to make sure things go well.
I check the app on my way back to my office, receiving slaps on the back and handshakes from our big betters.
Our promotion brings in millions of dollars worth of bets. From other crime families, high ranking officials and anyone with enough money and status who enjoys the grit and brutality what we do and what our fighters are allowed to do.
With the only rule of no weapons and our refs can’t step in unless someone is completely knocked out no matter how badly they are being beaten, everything else gets a green light.
Biting, eye-gouging, what would be classed as illegal knees, punches and elbows in non-illegal promotions.
We bring in huge numbers because people love the violence.
I finally make it back to my office and check the tracker to see Willow is still in her hotel and I breathe a sigh of relief that she hasn’t went out tonight because the tracker is still blinking at their hotel.