Chapter 41 #2
He groans. “Fine, I got a woman to beat the shit out of her. Annette had been talking crap about another woman fighter, and I kind of told her, and well…shit happened.” He lifts my chin.
“I warned her to stay the fuck away from you. She didn’t listen.
I wasn’t about to let anyone come between us or hurt you. She gets what she deserves.”
“I…”
“Don’t feel bad for her. She didn’t care about you or anyone. It was all about her.”
I sigh. “I know.” My lips brush the fabric of his shirt, leaving a stain from my lipstick. “I love you.” Another kiss. “You always take care of me.”
“I love you too.” The music stops, and many are already leaving.
The guys stand by the bar, emptying their glasses.
Max gestures toward the ornate double doors of the ballroom.
“Let’s get going.” His voice is low but commanding.
Leo adjusts his cufflinks as he falls in line behind Max, while Drake and Xander exchange a quick glance before following.
The polished marble floor reflects our hurried steps.
Just as we reach the threshold, Carlos materializes like a shadow with a stern expression, effectively blocking the exit. Waiting. Planning.
“Max.” Carlos’s voice hisses like a snake ready to inject its venom. “So nice to see you all here. How have you been?”
“Great. Now get the fuck out of our way.” Max’s voice is as lethal as the look on his handsome face. His one hand is stretched out, protecting my stomach.
Carlos’s lip twists. A smug chuckle burst out of him. “Let’s talk, Max.”
My chest rattles like a snare drum under my dress, and I flatten my palm against the center, feeling the bone there rise and fall beneath my sweaty skin.
Something catches in my throat—a hiccup, a sob—and I force it down, the muscles working visibly beneath my jaw.
I’m trying hard to control myself. Why can’t he just leave us alone? Why?
“Like I said, get the fuck out of our way.” Max’s eyes slant into an angry rage. “We have nothing to talk about.”
“Move,” Xander shouts, balling his fists on his side.
Leo’s on my other side, steadying me with his hand on my shoulder. I’m grateful for it.
“Don’t tell me your little bitch doesn’t let you talk. She’s so wrapped around your dick you can’t see straight, son. Bet the kid is not even yours. It’s probably the professor’s. She likes to spread her legs like your puta of a mother.”
Asshole.
Max lunges forward with alarming speed, his fingers finding Carlos’s throat. As Carlos struggles for breath, Max leans in close, jaw clenched tight. “Mention Sol or my mother that way again,” he hisses through his teeth, “and I’ll make sure you never speak another word.”
“Enough!” a voice echoes through the now semi-empty room.
Patrons run out as soon as Daniel’s men draw their guns. Daniel saunters through in his black suit, running his fingers through his hair nonchalantly, as if this were nothing. I’m sure it is, considering he more than likely kills for a living.
“Let him go, Max.”
Angry veins pulse on Max’s neck.
Carlos drops like a fly, reaching for his neck, gasping for air. Once he recovers, he stands and peers at Daniel. “Hello, nephew.”
Nephew?
Max jerks back like the rest of us. Nephew. How is that possible? I mean, it could be, but…
“What’s going on?” Daniel barks.
“Max and I were about to have a talk.” Carlos juts his chin toward Max.
I just want to leave.
“I said get the fuck out of our way.” Max pushes through, but in a whip, Carlos pulls out a gun to stop him. My insides cave. Voices recede like a tide, until all I hear is the thud-thud in my ears, my pulse in my throat. My hands shake, gripping Max’s coat from behind as his body shields me.
Drake’s voice turns to steel. “Whoa, easy there. That’s not necessary.”
“Lower the weapon, Carlos. Now.” Daniel’s command cuts through the air.
Max’s shoulders drop slightly—the only sign visible from my position that Carlos must have complied.
“Nephew?” Max questions. “Never mentioned it.”
Gripping Max’s suit, I shuffle to the side of him.
Carlos slips his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, we’re family. Daniel’s mom is my sister.” Carlos shuffles around us. “Didn’t feel the need to mention it. We weren’t as close as you thought.” He makes a face, shrugging a shoulder.
Max’s sharp laugh cuts through the air. “No, I guess not. So this Underground bullshit was all you two doing?”
Daniel’s hands swing up. “Hey, not my doing. You came to me. Looking for a fight to earn coin. How you found the Underground was not my doing.” He points to his uncle.
“According to Carlos, it would build you into the fighter you have become. You got better with every fight. You became the machine that you are. I’d say you owe us a thank you,” Daniel says.
A thank you? What a fucking load of horseshit. Arrogant men who think they own people and that they should bow to them. Max is who he is because he’s worked his ass to have it.
Max moistens his lips and gives him the IDGAF look. “I’d say you owe me a thank you. I made you money, didn’t I?” He points to Daniel. “Me give you a thank you? Never.”
“Don’t be so bitter like your piece-of-shit father.
For a long time, I was pissed he took the girl I loved, but when I heard she was the reason Hector quit boxing, I was glad I didn’t knock her up first. Who wants a bitch like that?
Like the one you have. They ruin everything.
She’s hot as hell. I’m sure she’s a good fuck since you can’t get rid of her. ”
Max lunges toward Carlos a second time. Carlos draws his gun again. “What the fuck did I tell you?” Before he can get to him, two men grab Max, holding him back.
Drake’s voice rises to a shout, words lost in the chaos.
Xander yells something I can’t make out.
More guns emerge from holsters and waistbands, with the metallic click of safeties disengaging.
All sound recedes to a distant hum as my vision narrows to the dark circle of the gun barrel pointed at me.
“This bitch right here is the reason behind everything. I treated you like a son, Max. I was there for you. She was never the right woman for you. Annette was perfect. Strong, intelligent, successful. She would have climbed the ladder with you. Us three.”
“Get the gun out of her face,” Max roars.
My gaze doesn’t leave the gun pointing directly at me. From the corner of my eye, Max fights the men off him, regardless of the guns out.
“She has nothing to do with this. Get. Her. Out!” The last word is a plea.
The violence on Carlos’s face is pure evil; there is no ounce of good in him. The floor quakes under me from my trembling legs. I wrap my hands protectively over my belly.
Please protect my babies, I silently pray.
“Guns down,” Daniel shouts an order. His men tuck the guns in their holsters, but Carlos idles. “Carlos,” he warns.
His gun is still drawn on me. The look on his face says he’ll pull it. Who’s in charge? Carlos or Daniel?
The anxiety settles deep in my chest. My stomach churns, and my babies move as if they can feel my discomfort. “Please,” I beg, my voice not my own. How many times can a person escape death? I’ve come close so many times.
“It’s okay, baby.” Max’s voice is a soothing comfort.
If those are the last words I’ll ever hear, then I’ll take them with us and treasure them.
“Carlos, put the gun down. She’s pregnant.
” Max’s voice is raspy as he thrashes in the arms of three men holding him down.
“What is it you want, and I’ll do it,” Max begs, and he’s never been one to beg at anyone.
“Anything?” With his free hand, he rubs his chin. “Marry Annette and train with me.”
No, please, not that.