Page 29 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

What the hell is my sister doing here? The world around me fades away, and I think of how I need to get her out of here, but I can’t just walk off. Before I even collect my thoughts, my opponent jabs me right under my armpit. I stagger back, the wind knocked out of me.

Fuck. Alexai. I can’t lose to the underground Ring Boss, not if I want to win my first ring off of him. I must focus on winning this match and then...then I’ll deal with the other matters that are consuming my thoughts. Matters like Anoushka and the growing disappointment I feel toward her for being here. But those thoughts are for later—right now, it’s just me and my opponent in this ring of blood and sweat.

“Come on, Damien! Show him who’s boss!” a voice shouts from the crowd, spurring me on as I prepare to fight back.

The crowd roars around me. Sweat drips down my face, and my breathing is heavy but controlled. Well, as controlled as I can get it to be. I had just found my element after losing the first round, finding motivation in Alexai’s deal, but Anoushka’s presence has changed something in me.

“Finish him!” a voice cries out, breaking through the cacophony of cheers and jeers.

My knuckles ache from the impact of my previous hits, but I ignore it. As I prepare for another calculated strike, my eyes momentarily flicker toward the crowd, and then I see her again—Anoushka, staring at me, her eyes wide. Did I see a flicker of blonde hair near her? Could it be…?

The man standing in front of the blonde walks off, and then I see her.

“Shit,” I mumble under my breath, momentarily losing focus. The mere sight of her causes my heart to race faster than any fight ever could. Her presence here is dangerous—both for her and for me. She shouldn’t be here, but there she stands, wide-eyed and biting her lip nervously, seemingly unable to look away from the brutal scene unfolding before her.

“Genevieve?” I whisper, disbelieving my own eyes.

Of all the things I want her to think of me, a monster isn’t one of them. Right now, that’s exactly what I am: a beast in the ring.

The momentary distraction proves costly as my opponent capitalizes on my lapse in concentration, landing a dirty hit on my ribs. A sharp pain shoots through my side, and I stagger back, gasping for breath. He chases after me, punching me again and again. An uppercut to the jaw, another jab at the ribs, and one at my nose. The referee tries to stop him, but he doesn’t stop. He hits me with one final blow, and this time, I feel a sharp pain, like a knife piercing through my ribs. I notice a metal glint from the corner of my eye before my vision goes hazy. Had he concealed a knuckle ring somewhere?

He punches me again, and I fall to the ground, unable to stand.

My opponent steps away, raising one fist in the air in victory.

“Dammit!” I hiss through gritted teeth, feeling my anger surging within me. I glance down at my side and notice blood seeping out through a gash over my ribs. It’s worse than I thought.

“Looks like I found your weak spot, pretty boy,” my opponent taunts, now standing over me, a sinister grin spreading across his face.

The referee makes him step aside, and I lie on my back and close my eyes.

I see stars behind the darkness and can focus on nothing but the pain. The pain, and Genevieve and Anoushka. I’m now in a dreamlike trance, and all I want to do is succumb to this darkness and find some sleep.

In my dreams, I hear sirens. These sirens from the distance change the atmosphere around me. Shouts echo through the underground fighting arena as people scramble to escape the imminent police raid.

A police raid? Yeah, right. It’s only a dream. I’m sleeping.

A bed would be good. I force myself to open my eyes. I need to get to my feet, find my way home, and sleep in my bed. I’m dizzy, nauseous, and disoriented from the pain in my side, but I can’t fall asleep in the ring. As I struggle to stand, an approaching figure catches my eye, and I instinctively brace myself for another attack.

“Back off!” I growl at the figure, swinging a weak punch in their direction.

“Damien, it’s me! It’s Lev!” His familiar voice penetrates my foggy mind, and I recognize my younger brother’s face just in time to stop my fist from connecting with his cheek.

“Lev?” I ask, my voice strained with pain. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your stubborn ass, like always,” he replies, smirking despite the chaos surrounding us. “We need to get out of here, now.”

“Anoushka’s here, too,” I tell him urgently, my thoughts immediately concerned with her safety. “She was in the crowd. Genevieve’s with her.”

“Damien, you’re hurt and confused,” Lev urges me, grabbing my shoulder firmly. “You’re injured; we can’t waste any more time ‘cause the cops are gonna be here soon.”

“Find Anoushka and Genevieve, then we can go,” I insist through gritted teeth, determined not to abandon them in this dangerous situation. “I won’t leave them behind, Lev.”

The sirens and screams grow louder.

“They’re not here,” Lev argues, his eyes darting nervously around the chaotic scene. “You must be imagining things.”

“I’m telling you, I saw them!” I snap back, frustration mounting as I lean against the wall for support. The throbbing pain in my side won’t relent, but it’s the fear that Anoushka and Genevieve are in danger that truly clouds my thoughts.

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