Page 8 of Ruthless Prince

I slink off to my room because talking to my father gets me nowhere. How can he tell me not to talk to Vincent when Vincent is a stranger to me?

What does my father know that I don’t know?

VINCENT

Igor had been the center of my universe because he made it that way. He made me train and fight every day. He made me sleep on a hard cot my entire childhood to toughen me up. He made me fucking scared even when I wouldn’t admit it out loud.

I’m not sad he’s dead. In fact, I’m fucking relieved.

He never acted like a father should act. The other kids in school seemed to have good relationships with their fathers.

I never understood why I couldn’t have that either.

A knock on my apartment door makes me stand up. I’ve been practically living on the couch in a state of numbness since Igor died. Not because I miss him.

But because I don’t know what to do without him.

I open the door and see it’s Dimitri, Igor’s brother. “It’s been a week since your father died. Why haven’t you answered any of my calls?”

Because I didn’t want to. “Sorry,” is all I can muster up.

Dimitri’s eyes narrow. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the look that tells me he wants to punch the shit out of me, but he always held back with my father around. Well, my father is fucking dead now.

“You have a fight tonight,” Dimitri says. “You need to be there. You need to make this family some money.”

“This family doesn’t need any more money. We’re fucking loaded.”

“No. I’m rich. Your father was rich. But you, Vincent, are not rich. If you don’t do this fight tonight and win, you won’t earn a damn dime.”

I get right up in his face, but Dimitri doesn’t back down. “I have bled for this family. Don’t I deserve a little respite?”

“You don’t deserve a damn thing. Do your job. Or I’m coming for this apartment, and you’ll be left with nothing.” He slams the door on his way out.

I sit down and slump into the couch, my numbness slowly seeping away. For the first time since my father died, I feel awake again.

But that doesn’t mean I feel happy.

The fighting rings are packed tonight. I’m having a big showdown with a man named “The Mountain.”

I haven’t fought him before, but I’ve seen him, and he’s truly huge. A slight panic fills me as I walk into the ring after the announcer calls me forward. The Mountain glares at me. At my full height, I only reach his neck.

“Let’s fight!” the announcer screams, jumping out of the way as the Mountain barrels toward me. I slide out of his way before he can grab me. This is the only way to beat a man of his size—I need to dance around him and tire him out until he gives up.

The crowd cheers and boos at the same time. I’m not sure who they’re cheering for and who they’re booing for.

The Mountain swings his fist at my face and lands a hit, sending me stumbling back. I catch Dimitri’s eyes in the crowd and see his head shake with disapproval. I’m supposed to win this fight.

But how am I supposed to win when my head isn’t in it?

I can taste blood in my mouth. I’ll bruise for sure. Hell, I might even lose a couple of teeth.

The Mountain roars as he comes at me again. I land a quick double punch to his stomach, making him bend over. Using that to my advantage, I grab his hair, yank his head back, and jam my fist into his throat. He coughs and stumbles away.

The crowd cheers for me. It’s the only good feeling I have in this entire world.

And then the Mountain runs at me and tackles me to the ground. I punch and claw at him, but he’s too strong for me. He holds me down and wraps his arms around my throat. It doesn’t escape me that this is my signature move.

The choking doesn’t faze me. The reason? I feel halfway dead already. Since Igor died, I haven’t felt much of anything.

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