Page 10 of King of the Cage

“Fight!”

“I’ve got fifty on the Irish!” one of the Italians called out.

And just like that, the crowd evolved into a group of excited gamblers about to see their favorite step into the ring. Bran wasnotorious in underground fighting rings. It was where he’d won the nickname The Lost Boy of Hell’s Kitchen. Fighting without official sanctioning at a wedding was a no-no, but having a little friendly competition was always welcome.

Enrico’s eyes moved from side to side, nerves clear as day on his overly moisturized face.

“Come on, Sepriano, I’m sure you’ve got some moves hidden away somewhere,” I called to him cheerfully, peering around Bran.

Enrico turned a glare at me.

I raised my hand to the air above him, pumping a fist. “Fight, fight, fight!” I chanted.

“You and me should be fighting it out, not me and him,” Enrico spat and glared up at Bran.

Bran chuckled. “She doesn’t fight, as long as I’m here.” He gave me a long look, appraising me from head to toe. “You want us to fight, beautiful?”

I nodded immediately, my humiliation at what Enrico had called me dissolving into the need to see him bleed. “Absolutely, I do, and so does everyone else… this party was getting stale.”

Bran’s lip lifted at the corner. “And what’s in it for me?” His gaze raked me up and down. “What’s my prize?”

My mouth went dry. There was no doubt what he was planning on taking as his prize. The stark truth was undeniable. This man wanted me, and if he fought at my bidding and won, he’d take me. For someone who hated to be out of control, it shouldn’t have thrilled me like it did.

“What do you want?” I asked, even though I knew.

We both knew. Everyone watching us knew. The tension was palpable. My brother would murder me for even considering hooking up with an O’Connor… but my brother wasn’t here.

Enrico snorted and then backed up, his bravado fleeing when Bran stared at him.

“You.” Bran’s tone was confident. “Just you, Santori.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding hard. What the hell was this guy doing to me? I shouldn’t really complain. I’d been wanting a distraction, after all, and he was more than delivering.

“So, you know who I am? I’d have thought knowing my brother was Elio would be a turnoff for you,” I stated flatly. “Unless it’s the appeal. Fuck your enemy’s sister, that’ll show him. Or maybe your plan is more elaborate… not only fuck her, but wine and dine her, then break her heart. That would stick it to the guy you hate, wouldn’t it?”

Bran laughed. “Sorry to break it to you, but I’ve never cared enough about anyone to wine and dine them, and that includes a convoluted plot to fuck with your brother. As for getting one over him, he’d never know. A gentleman never tells.” He grinned at me.

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” I arched an eyebrow at him. Toying with the off-limits Irishman was an amusing diversion.

“I said a gentleman never tells… I didn’t claim to be one. But I won’t be kicking this fucker’s arse for free… So what will it be, Trouble? Is there something in it for me or not?”

Bran’s eyes were positively wicked. The look in them had me hot all over. If only he wasn’t the one man my brother detested morethan any other in the city.. Regardless, someone needed to put Enrico in his place for insulting Sol tonight.

I shrugged as provocatively as I could, laying it on thick. “Win, and then we’ll talk.”

He grinned. “We’ll do a lot more than that,” he promised and then glanced back at Enrico. “Seems like we’re stepping into the ring. Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. That’s against the rules at the wedding, after all.”

Enrico went white and shook his head, backing up as he raised his voice. “I can’t fight you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Booing ensued, a whole lot of it from his own family. Dancing to disco music hadn’t been doing it for the rest of the guests, either. They were much more excited at the prospect of a dogfight.

Enrico’s dad had appeared on the sidelines. “I’ll allow it, since it’s all in good fun,” he said slowly. He watched the Irish shrewdly.

I’d heard there was tension between the Italians and Irish in New York, and the vibe between them only confirmed it. That meant my champion risked a lot more than losing a little fight here. He could off piss his father, the head of the O’Connor family, and further worsen relations between the two warring families.

“Since the wee man here is so nervous, I’ll be generous,” Bran shouted over the din.

People quieted to hear him.

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