Page 34 of Fight

He shook his head. “I’m not so sure. You look like a limo driver to me.”

Though I had braced myself for Markov’s taunts, his words still landed, leaving a dull thud of anger and incompetence in my stomach, one that I couldn’t refute because what he said was true.

News of my failure with Fawn had spread far, far enough that Markov could use it as an attack. A fair one, much as I hated to admit it. But even though my heart began to pound, I refused to let myself give in to emotion.

“Looks can be deceiving,” I responded.

“So if I let you in my ring, you’re not gonna lose in the first ten seconds?” Markov said.

“I’m going to win. Enough to see that you are repaid, and that you have no further dealings with her,” I said, certain now, even more than I had been before, that she would be free of him and this world.

I hated even referencing P, wouldn’t dare mention her name, but Markov needed to understand that once he was paid, he would have no connection to her.

He looked me up and down again and then nodded. “Fine. This should be interesting. Clan Petran has such a reputation, and I’ll get to see up close if you are as good as Vasile likes to pretend.”

“You will,” I said. I turned to leave, but Markov’s voice stopped me.

“Ioan, one last thing,” he said.

“What?” I stopped, faced him.

“You fight to the death. If you can handle that, be here tomorrow night. Bring my lovely koshenya. I’ve so missed her,” he said, laughing loudly.

I turned and left the room without looking back. Anger was racing through me, and I knew that if I stayed, I wouldn’t be able to control myself, which would only compound the problem.

So instead, I left, made my way back to the car.

I had expected something from Markov, and a fight to the death fit.

His fights didn’t always end that way, but I could see his reasoning. Either I’d be too afraid to show up, further shaming myself and my clan, or I’d lose, deprive Vasile of one of his men.

Both scenarios worked well for Markov, but there was one he hadn’t considered.

I wasn’t afraid of death, my own or causing others’. And I would take lives, whatever number it took to see that P was safe. I didn’t understand what had driven me to step in, what about her made me risk so much. I wanted to understand that, hoped that once I did, I could rid myself of the need to protect her completely. Until then, the only thing to do was to heed the instinct even if I didn’t understand it.

Markov was betting on my cowardice or weakness, but he’d missed the most important thing.

I was going to fight.

And I was going to win.

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