Page 79 of The Fighter

“I can’t remember. It’s been twenty-five years.” He sets his glass down. “Enough of the past. Tell me more about yourself, Alina. How did you and Tomas meet?”

“We own the gym together.”

“That’s interesting.” His eyes rest on me, a little too aware, and I wonder if he’s looked up when I bought my share of the gym from Simon Groff. Daniel promised the records wouldn’t be made public, and the lawyer is ferociously competent. “It’s not usually a good idea to mix business with pleasure. Do you like working with Tomas?”

Alina laughs for the first time. “We clashed at the start,” she admits. “A lot.” She exchanges a smile with me. “But Tomas won me over.”

Did I? Hope raises its head again, and I quell it. Ali and I really need to talk. At this point, I have no idea what’s real and what’s fake.

“But, of course, you won’t still be involved with it once you’re married,” he says. “I can’t imagine that fighting will be good for your body when you’re pregnant.”

Ali blinks, stunned. “I have no intention of giving up the gym. I won’t fight if I’m pregnant, of course, but that’s a long way off. I’m only twenty-five. I’m in no hurry for children.”

“And what does Tomas think of that?”

Is he trying to drive a wedge between us? Is that what this is? Wow, he is not good at it. Then again, Vidone Laurenti rose to power by being the most violent and unhinged man in the room. You take away his biggest weapon, and he is floundering.

“It’s Ali’s body,” I reply blandly. “Ali’s decision.”

He shakes his head in disgust. “Young people nowadays.”

Before he can launch into a rant about how my generation is failing him personally, Ali changes the subject. “I’m so sorry about your daughter,” she says softly. “You must miss her very much. Do you have any photos of her?”

Grief clouds his expression. He didn’t love her enough to let her marry whoever she wanted, but he did love her a little. Or maybe he’s just mourning his lost alliance with the Russians. “Yes.” He pulls out his phone and flips through it until he finds the photo he’s looking for. “This is Sabrina and Damir. They were going to be married.”

Ladies and gentlemen, Damir Malinov has entered the chat.

Alina looks at the screen and then passes it to me. I’ve seen photos of the Malinov heir before, so I focus on his former bride. Sabrina is pretty in a washed-out way. Malinov’s got his arm around her waist, and she’s smiling at the camera, but to my eyes, her smile looks more than a little strained.

To be fair, I’m not exactly an impartial observer.

I hand the phone back to Vidone. He looks at the screen once more before setting it down. “While you’re in Valencia, Alina, I’d like you to meet Damir.”

Of course you would. “Why?” I ask bluntly.

He gives me a hostile look and addresses his remarks to his daughter. “He’s a good friend of the family,” he says. “And he is grieving. I thought seeing you would bring him solace.”

“I understand,” Alina replies. “But I only have this weekend here, and I’d like to focus on us.”

Vidone’s expression softens. “I’d like that too.”

Nicely done. If I didn’t know who Vidone Laurenti was, I’d almost be convinced. He’s mostly doing a good impression of a father awkwardly meeting his grown daughter for the first time.

But I know how much hinges on his alliance with the Russians.

Laurenti desperately needs Alina to marry Damir Malinov. He’s met her now. He’s taken her measure. As soon as we leave here, he’ll be plotting his next move.

This is the kind of strategic chess game that Gabriel, Antonio, and Dante live for.

Me? I don’t care about the machinations. I have just one goal, and that’s to keep the woman I’ve fallen in love with safe.

50

ALINA

By the time dinner is done, I know. This is not a man who wants to know me. Maybe he does, but his main goal is to find a way to marry me off to Damir Malinov.

Everything the Venice Mafia told me about my father is true.

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