Page 103 of The Wrecked One

“Great. I have a few amendments to the proposed plan, though.” Nicholas eyed Stef and Carter while spinning his wedding ring around a few times.

“What are they?” Carter asked him, his expression hardening.

“The owner of the arena is concerned things may get a bit messy between you two after the fight ends.” Nicholas clearly read the situation well. No idiot, either. “I think we all know that only one family, or in your case, team, is leaving that island regardless of what happens in that ring. The fight is just to kick things off.”

Way to be blunt.

“I’ll be livestreaming the fight and watching it from here.” Lifting his hands from his pockets as if he thought either Carter or Stef would protest, Nicholas continued, “I’d prefer not to be a casualty caught in the crossfires when I’m so close to retirement. My death would make my wife far too happy, and we can’t have that.” He grinned. “The fight must happen, because I’ll have men here betting on it, but they’ll also be watching and betting on round two. The, uh, post-show action.”

The war between us and the Sorens will be fucking livestreamed?

“Whoever leaves that island alive can buy the hotel. You’ll also garner the respect of your future patrons here in doing so.” Nicholas scanned our group and added, “Like I said, I want to leave my place in good hands. The best hands.”

“You’re going to livestream not just the fight but everything after that . . .” Stef repeated what Nicholas said, allowing his words to trail off, as shocked as I was. “I can’t have anyone seeing that kind of video.”

“And I can assure you,” Nicholas said, while gesturing to the resort’s main building, “only guests here will view the footage. And they’d lose their tongues if they spoke about it after they parted ways from the hotel.”

“You said the owner of the arena is worried about a mess?” Jesse asked, pivoting back to that unfinished thought Nicholas had previously dropped.

“He doesn’t want the fight at his arena, but he owns another island that’s a bit farther out from mainland Abu Dhabi. It’s uninhabited, but it was used as a temporary training center before the arena was officially opened.” Nicholas’s new information was actually good news. No risk of civilian casualties in our matchup. “We’ll provide you both protection to Abu Dhabi, as well as to the location of the fight. We’ll also be in control of the immediate air space overhead to ensure no one has an unfair aerial advantage.”

Fuck, this could all work even better. Of course, there were still two problems we had to tackle. Mya and Gwen now needed to be at the island, too, and from the sounds of it, I’d have to go through with the fight.

“This will be happening in forty-eight hours, not next week.” And there was the other shoe. We needed more time to prepare. “My wife, damn that blasted woman, has a cruise scheduled for us next week. A cold plunge in Alaska. So, this needs to happen before then.”

“Two nights from now?” Mya sputtered, stepping forward. There I went again, going right with her, shock moving my feet for me.

Nicholas opened his palms and shrugged. “Oui. Take it or leave it.”

“We’ll take it,” I answered before Carter could, “but I do have a request. Only three rounds inside the ring, and the winner is declared by knockout, or by you, but not by death.” I swallowed, hoping this would work, and that I could survive all three rounds. “There will be plenty of opportunities your guests can place bets on after that fight. We both know that’s where the real action will be.”

Nicholas swapped a quick look with Stef, and at Stef’s nod, I did my best not to sigh with relief.

I wasn’t out of the woods yet, not even close, but one step at a time would get us all there. Get us all free.

39

MYA

It wasn’t hot in Carter’s suite, but I could feel the sweat rolling down between my breasts as my pulse raced. Leaning against the door, I remained a spectator in the sport of Wyatt’s pacing as my own thoughts unraveled.

We’d just laid out the plan to the rest of the team, including how everything had unfolded at the party, and Wyatt wasn’t taking it so well. Knowing Gwen needed to be in the midst of battle two nights from now was definitely eating away at his resolve and his control.

Oliver had quietly hung by the window in the living room ever since we’d come back. I knew he shared Wyatt’s worries as well, but he also had to be thinking about how the new arrangement meant he’d be fighting Hugo.

Three rounds, not to the death, though. But what if . . . no, don’t go there. No more what-ifs unless they were positive. And let’s be real, whoever what-ifed the good stuff?

Carter began rolling his sleeve to his elbow while joining Oliver by the window.

“My daughter is not going to some uninhabited island to die. She has nine lives, and she’s somehow managed to use up eight of them,” Wyatt growled out, tossing a hand in the air. “And she’s not even thirty.”

Gwen went over to her dad, blocking his path. He grasped hold of her biceps and physically moved her to the side. He was probably wishing he could do the same for our problems.

“Your math is not mathing, Dad. Also, I’m in the room, and you’re talking like I’m not.”

Her words managed to stop him in his tracks better than her attempt to block his path had. “You’re not going, and that’s settled.”

“I’m also twenty-five now, and you’re not allowed to make decisions for me.” Gwen folded her arms, surveying the room in a silent plea for help. Before any of us could, or would, get in the middle, she switched gears and asked, “I know we’re all focused on what will happen in forty-eight hours, but is anyone else thinking about what happened with Hugo at the reception? The whole thing with his brother.”

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