Page 13 of Claiming Veronica

“I don’t give a shit who you work for.” I stepped closer, looming over him now. He flinched just slightly, but it was enough. “I’ve been doing this since before you even knew what anunderground fight was. I’ve bled in those rings, broken bones, taken men apart piece by piece for less than what you’re offering. You think I need some suit telling me what to do?”

The silence between us stretched, thick and tense. I let it hang, letting him stew in its weight. I could see the fear creeping into his eyes, the realization dawning on him that he was nothing here—just a middleman sent to do someone else’s dirty work.

“If you want a fight organized, we do it on my terms,” I said, my voice cold, unyielding. “And if you step out of line, I’ll make sure you don’t step anywhere again.”

His jaw clenched, the cigarette burning between his fingers as he stared at me, weighing his options. He knew I wasn’t bluffing. I didn’t bluff, but I saw he was also out of options. I didn’t like that.

Finally, he nodded, the fight draining out of him. “Fine. It’s your show. As long as it’s in Phoenix.”

“No problem. Give me the fighters’ names. I’ll vet them and tell you who can fight.” The fight circuit was a balance. People sometimes thought you could throw anyone into the ring to punch somebody in the face. That just wasn’t true at all. It was all about the show. You needed the rightbalance of match-ups. I’d review his list of fighters he wanted to include, but I’d only choose a few. It was critical to pull in experienced fighters to generate the right amount of excitement and keep the pace. That meant money flowed, and people came back for more.

“I’ll need the rest of the information, and then I’ll tell you if I’m interested.” He handed me a piece of paper, his fingers steady. My reputation wasn’t made up of lies. It was hard, brutal, and dripped in blood if you knew what you were looking for. This man didn’t know half of the bad that I’d done.

I got up without another word, walking away as the tension in the room settled. I didn’t need to look back to know the guy was already scrambling to figure out how to report this to whoever was pulling his strings. It didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t worried.

The truth was, I’d been in this game longer than most of the guys still standing. I knew how to run a fight, control the crowd, ensure the right people won, and get money in the right pockets. But more than that, I knew how to survive. I was a fucking expert at that.

And in this world, that’s what mattered most.

I pushed through the door, the cool night air hitting my face as I stepped outside. My bike was waiting at the curb, the only thing that felt familiar in this godforsaken place. I swung my leg over the seat and kicked it to life, the engine roaring beneath me.

I had bigger things to worry about now. Veronica.

And if anyone got in my way — they’d regret it.

The penthouse in Phoenix I bought was nice but a little far from Veronica’s area. At the start of this whole thing, I hadn’t planned on sticking around for long. Now … well, things might be changing. I wasn’t sure what my plans were.

It was one of the fanciest places I’d ever lived, even nicer than the warehouse loft Luther and I bought in Seattle. The penthouse came furnished with sleek modern furniture, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t here to be comfortable. I focused on the row of monitors lined up on the desk in front of me, their screens casting an eerie glow in the dim room.

I leaned back in the plush desk chair, fingerstapping idly on the armrest as I watched the feeds.

I’d been watching her for weeks, long enough to know her routine. Long enough to memorize every little movement, every habit. Like how she curled up in the corner of her bed when she was working late into the night, or how she absentmindedly twisted her hair when she was deep in thought, or the way she coughed after sitting still for too long, a reminder of the health issues that contained to chase her.

The camera in her room caught a glimpse of her now, hunched over her laptop, typing away like she was chasing some information she couldn’t let go of. Her pale skin glowed under the dim light of her bedside lamp, her moon-gold hair spilling over her shoulders. She was wearing one of those oversized hoodies again — the one that swallowed her up and hid the gentle curves I knew were there.

It pissed me off, not just because I couldn’t see what I wanted but because it was a reminder that Veronica was fragile in ways I didn’t like thinking about. The cough, the way she rubbed at her chest sometimes like it hurt. I didn’t know all the details yet, but I knew enough to realize she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend. And that made me uneasy.

I wasn’t too fond of things I couldn’t control.

And Veronica — she was a wild card.

I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes at the screen as she paused, glancing toward the sliding door that led to the patio. A chill went down my spine, a flicker of anticipation. She’d been catching on, feeling me there even when she couldn’t see me. Maybe it was the gifts I’d been leaving, or perhaps it was just instinct, but she knew I was watching.

Good.

The corner of my mouth curled into a smirk. I liked that she felt me, liked that I was starting to get under her skin. There was a connection between us, whether or not she realized it. Something deep and unspoken. It wasn’t love — not like that — but it was something dark, something primal. I knew what she was, and she was also figuring out what I was.

She was obsessed with finding answers about me, digging through the shadows of the dark web to piece together the puzzle. I could see how her eyes darted across the screen, and her fingers flew over the keyboard. Veronica wanted to understand me.

But understanding me came with a price.

And I wasn’t sure she was ready to pay it.

I turned my attention to the other cameras—one on the back patio, another on the roof where she’d installed her security system. She was a clever girl, but she’d missed a few key spots. Her bedroom vent, for one. The cellar, another. There were always gaps. Always ways in if you knew where to look.

My eyes flicked back to her. She was shifting, pushing away from her desk and rubbing at her chest again. That familiar cough had her wincing, leaning over slightly as she struggled to catch her breath.

Why the fuck hadn’t Natasha done something about this? How could her sister — her whole damn family — just sit back and watch while Veronica struggled?

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