“Our little spat is nothing like what went down between those men. You don’t have to worry about me and Lorenzo, bambina.”
She gazes out the window at a passing billboard. It’s for a boxing match, not a cage fight. “How come I never heard of Lasher before I met you? You made it sound like he’s famous. All the boxing stars get billboards before their big fights so why doesn’t he?”
“Cage fighting is illegal in Coldlake. Mayor Romano claims it’s too dangerous.”
“Is it?”
I consider this. “Many sports are just as high contact. Boxing. Football. Cage fighting has a reputation for being violent and lawless, but there are rules.” I shoot a look at her. “Besides, it’s entertaining and unlike any other sport. You’ll see.”
Chiara’s never been squeamish and she’s been growing more ballsy. I think she might get a kick out of tonight’s fight.
The venue is an indoor basketball stadium with an octagonal cage on the court and more seating added ringside. Chiara and I have front-row seats to the fight, and as we sit down, lights flash overhead and the music pounds. Everyone in the crowd is hyped up.
I nuzzle the side of Chiara’s face, sliding the blade of my nose against her cheek before kissing her temple.
“Cassius, everyone’s looking at us.” Chiara smiles as her gaze darts around at the spectators. Hundreds of people are crammed into the gymnasium to watch the fight. Lasher, my prizefighter, versus the comeback champion Peril. It’s a powerful drawcard, despite being illegal. No one tells us how to have fun in Coldlake.
“Everyone’s looking at you,” I correct her and palm her belly, fingers splayed. My son is inside Chiara—or my daughter. Tiny and vulnerable. As I glance up, I see that dozens of heads are turned in our direction, marveling at the sight of Cassius Ferragamo with his arms around a woman. Cassius Ferragamo, smiling. And is that the mayor’s daughter?
I kiss Chiara again and keep my arm around her waist as I feel the gossip buzzing around us. Chiara Romano, beautiful and untouchable, so recently engaged to Salvatore Fiore and now in the arms of another member of the Coldlake Syndicate, and at an illegal fight.
Vindictive delight spreads through me as I kiss the mayor’s daughter. I can’t wait until the news of this gets back to him.
17
Chiara
A woman drops into the seat on my other side and nods to Cassius. “Good evening, Mr. Ferragamo.”
Cassius nods to her. “Good evening. Alecta, this is Chiara Romano.”
The woman smiles at me. She’s a few years older than me and has long, dark curly hair with purple streaks, and she’s wearing tight jeans and a black tank top. Her nails are painted purple and there are black bands tattooed around her fingers. “Nice to meet you, Miss Romano.”
I glance between the woman and Cassius, wondering if this is the extra arrangement that Lorenzo mentioned. “Alecta, are you my bodyguard?”
“I work down at Strife. Mr. Scava requested a woman tonight as Mr. Ferragamo can’t accompany you everywhere, like the ladies’ room.” She smiles wider. “But you probably don’t need me. I heard you can handle yourself.”
“Are you a bounty hunter? I’ve always been curious about Strife’s bounty hunters. It sounds like such a cool job.”
She laughs. “Excuse me, I heard you pulled a gun out of a designer purse and shot dead the leader of the Geaks. What’s cooler than that? Also, you’ve got Acid calling you your highness and bragging about how you personally saved his life. Twice.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “That sounds like Acid.”
“Oh, yes. Acid loves to talk about himself.”
Over in the eight-sided cage, the fighters are warming up and the ring girls are posing for the crowd. Cassius explains that there will be two fights before the championship, and he seems less interested in these fighters but claps and cheers along with the rest of the audience. The referee steps into the ring and takes hold of the microphone, enlivening the crowd as he introduces the fighters.
The fight begins and the men circle each other, before raining down a series of kicks and punches and trying to wrestle each other to the ground. Cassius and the rest of the crowd get into it, cheering, shouting, and groaning when their favorite takes a bad hit. Soon, blood is streaking down the chin of one of the men and he seems dazed. The match ends by points, and I’m not surprised to find that the one who isn’t bleeding is the winner.
There’s another round of fighting, and then another break.
“How do you like it so far, bambina?” Cassius asks me.
I grin at him. “I can see why you enjoy it. There’s plenty of unpredictable action.”
“The technique,” he says in reverential tones. “It’s all about technique and knowing your opponent. Lasher is one of the most flexible fighters I know, and his technique is…” He kisses the tips of his fingers.
“Did you ever want to be an MMA fighter?”
Cassius smiles at me. “When I first came to this country, I did. I was very good, but business kept me from making a go of it. Now I only sponsor fighters, though I still train in a fighting gym and it keeps me fit.” He pats his flat, muscled stomach.
So that’s his secret. Cassius is more than fit, he’s a beast. I imagine him up there in the octagon cage, facing down another man with his fists raised. He would make a formidable opponent.
“Do women do cage fighting?”
“Of course.”
I glance at the cage, thinking about the moves and what Cassius said about technique. Learning to punch and kick sounds therapeutic and I wouldn’t mind feeling stronger. “When I’ve had the baby, will you take me to one of your gyms? I’d like to try it. Not to fight. Just to train.”
His hand slides over my belly. “Once you’ve had the baby, of course we can. We’ll bring Vinicius. He keeps telling me he wants to be stronger but he’s worried about being hit in his pretty face.”
I laugh. “Vinicius and I will train in the no-hit club.”
“No one is laying a finger on you. But you can punch me as hard as you like, bambina. I’ll enjoy it.”
The lights and music suddenly change. The championship fight is about to begin.
If the earlier fighters seemed fit and tough, the two who emerge and strut about in the cage are awe-inspiring. Their eyes blaze with determination and a competitive spirit crackles between them.
“That’s my fighter,” Cassius tells me, nodding to a blond man in red shorts and an open red robe.
Lasher surveys the crowd, spots Cassius, and leaps smoothly over the ropes toward us. Cassius and Lasher bump fists and Cassius embraces him before turning to me.
“Chiara, meet my best fighter, Lasher. Lasher, this is Chiara Romano.”
“Good luck tonight,” I tell him and hold out my hand. “I hope you win.”
He flashes me a smile that’s one hundred watts of pure charisma and shakes my hand. He’s wearing fingerless hand wraps. “If Miss Chiara Romano wants me to win, then how can I lose?”