Giovanni’s dark eyes swept over her, and she pressed her lips together very tightly. He wasn’t going to hear the voice of reason. He was angry. More than angry. Giovanni in this mood was actually a little terrifying. She had never seen this side of him.
Tom moved, trying to circle around to the side of Giovanni, and her heart plunged. He would weigh in on Corlege’s side. Both men were MMA champions. She knew Giovanni could take one of them, but both coming at him at the same time?
“You have no right to be in here. It’s an employee lounge and it says so right on the door. Get the fuck out.” Giovanni’s glide to the side of the room with the least furniture was almost imperceptible. It took him closer to James but put distance between Tom and him. At least she didn’t have to worry that he wasn’t aware of Tom as an added threat.
“What do you plan to do? Call security so you can hide behind them the way you always do? I suppose that makes you feel like a big man, to call your security force to deal with real men who fight their own fights.”
“James,” Sasha cautioned, hoping that concentrating on the enemy might get better results. “You don’t want to get banned from the club.” It was totally the wrong thing to say, and as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she had just amped up the trash-talking. Taking a breath, she moved her feet to the floor. If Giovanni was going to have to fight James, he wasn’t going to be fighting Tom at the same time.
“Right, because that would be the chickenshit thing he would do,” James taunted.
“Do you think I need security guards to wipe up the floor with your ass?”
Sasha looked up at the camera, silently begging one of his brothers to come help. She knew they had to be watching. She wanted to scream at them to get in there. For all they knew, one of the two men had a gun with him. She didn’t know which of the two was guilty of framing Aaron, but she was sure one of them had. Whichever it was, he was bound to be willing to kill Giovanni.
James rolled his shoulders. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tom echo his movements. Giovanni was perfectly still, but he looked casual, like a lazy tiger regarding two cubs challenging him for territory—or a woman.
“This is silly. James, Tom, you have to go back upstairs before everyone does something they can’t take back.” She tried again.
“Baby, you go on upstairs,” Giovanni prodded. “Get back to work.”
That wasn’t happening. She wasn’t leaving him alone with a possible madman—one already proven willing to use bombs, fire and bullets to get his way. Giovanni was ruining their entire plan—or he had another one she just didn’t know about.
James launched himself at Giovanni with a series of kicks. Giovanni blocked every one of them, his fist slamming down again and again on James’s legs as the MMA fighter tried using his famous forward snap kick and equally lethal roundhouse kick to drive his opponent toward Tom. Giovanni didn’t give ground at all. He stood, loose-limbed, his feet under his shoulders, elbows tucked in until he lashed out with a block. He was strong, and when he hit, it was as if he was dropping a hammer down. James was limping a little as he backed off.
“Holy shit, you really do hit that hard. I thought the first time you clocked me it was me being drunk thinking you hit like that.”
It was obvious to Sasha that James was trying to keep Giovanni’s attention centered on him so Tom could move in. Tom hurled himself into the air, both feet driving at Giovanni from the side. Simultaneously, James did the same. Giovanni didn’t move. Sasha did. She threw her high heel right at Tom’s face. She’d spent her entire life on a ranch, and when she needed to hit something, she did it. The high heel slammed into his face hard, throwing him off-balance because he saw the missile coming at him at the last minute and tried to deflect it.
She shouldn’t have worried. Giovanni blocked both men’s attacks, again striking hard with a closed fist, slamming it on exposed thighs to give them a dead leg. Tom dropped out of the air to hit the ground on his butt. James staggered back. Tom kept moving, this time going for Sasha, sweeping her legs out from under her. She hit the floor hard. Tom was on her in a second, punching toward her face.
The first blow hit the floor as she rolled. The second hit the back of her shoulder. He never got a third shot in. Giovanni stomped him hard, kicked him in the ribs and flipped him over with a third and fourth kick before James could get near him.
James got in one shot as Giovanni was turning toward him, but then it was over, Giovanni moving with blurring speed, hands and feet pounding until both men lay on the floor bleeding. Sasha dragged herself back to the chair and threw herself into it.
“What is wrong with you, woman?” Giovanni demanded.
“I was helping. They weren’t fighting fair.”
“Neither were you,” Tom groused. “What the fuck did you hit me with? A tank?” He spat blood.
“It was a shoe, you moron,” Sasha said. “I think you broke my shoulder.”
Giovanni’s hands were there, gently moving over her, checking for damage. “What the hell was this about, James? You knew Aaron trained with me. You can’t take him. If I can beat the shit out of him, it would stand to reason that you can’t take me.” He indicated Tom with his chin. “Did you tell Tom about Aaron sparring with me?”
“Aaron couldn’t quit bragging about it,” Tom said, spitting more blood. He pressed his hand to his mouth and glared at Sasha. “That was always his trouble. He talked so much trash, he didn’t know when to quit.”
“Big fuckin’ deal, sparring with a Ferraro,” James added. “Never did a day’s work in your life. Walk around all badass carrying a gun and looking dangerous? You think that’s going to impress us? Not likely. Aaron was an idiot.”
“He got all the women,” Sasha said. “I thought he was so hot when he was in that ring.”
Giovanni glared at her. She fluttered her lashes at him.
“He got shit,” Tom said. “Women were all over us.”
“He told me you competed for women,” Sasha said, “and he always won. I have to admit, I can see why. He just walked up the stairs and you could see all that power. He bragged he took every woman from you.”
James swore. “Fuckin’ liar. I won my share of the bets.”
“I did, too,” Tom said. “Aaron ran his mouth but he lied all the time to make himself look good. The bet on you was fifty thousand dollars. He needed the money, so he had to get Ferraro out of the way.” His gaze shifted just for a moment to James.
“You bet fifty thousand dollars that you could date me?”
James climbed slowly to his feet. “We don’t date, we fuck ’em and then drop ’em. That’s the bet.”
She nodded. “I see. He shared that picture of me with both of you, didn’t he? And you all three made the bet.”
“Of course he did. To give us an incentive to work harder.” James laughed. “Then Ferraro snapped you up and killed the plan. All along, it was just a ruse.”
“What do you mean?” Tom asked.
“She wasn’t really engaged to him. It was so he could help her straighten things out at Hendrick Center.”
Tom scowled. “You’ve got to be kidding. The brain-dead patients.” He stood up and staggered to the door.
Sasha started to protest, furious that Tom would talk about the patients at the Center that way, but Giovanni put a hand on her arm and shook his head. They watched the door close after them, and then she glared at her fiancé.
“Why didn’t you let me tell them off?” Fury made her voice tremble, but it was at the two fighters, not Giovanni.
“We were already skating on thin ice, baby.” He caught her chin and examined her face for bruises.
“I don’t understand.”
“When you told him we weren’t really engaged, you never mentioned the Center’s name. You said your brother had a traumatic brain injury. Anyone who didn’t have a family member or friend in the facility wouldn’t know about the facility. And Tom wasn’t present for the conversation. He referred to the patients as ‘brain-dead.’ It’s both of them. Together.”