Page 6 of Dirty Little Sins

Those were the nights that meant trouble.

Unfortunately, I didn't always hide well enough and when the alcohol mixed with his anger over his shitty life to the point of breaking, I always had to pay the price.

A price my stepfather extracted in the darkest way possible. Yeah, I'd grown up ugly.

Yet, somehow in the midst of all of that, I'd found a local boxing gym and the course of my life had changed for the better. At age ten, the owner of the gym let me hang around as long as I promised to clean the place every night after closing. By age twelve, I'd self-taught myself some of the basic boxing skills I picked up from watching nonstop after school. And at age fourteen, the owner caught me using the equipment after hours with a multitude of bruises and contusions covering my back and torso.

Nino, the owner, had thankfully never asked me what happened. I was sure he'd known and I was far too scared and mortified to talk about it. Instead of making me confess, he'd started training me to fight back. And if I couldn't fight back, then I learned how to take a beating without dying in the process.

The old man never offered anything else. Although as far as I was concerned, he didn't need to. At that time of my life, and now, that gym was everything to me. It's all I cared about.

Maybe my formative years could have gone better under different life circumstances, but shit happens the way it happens until you figure out how to make them better.

When I turned sixteen, I faked my stepfather's signature and I stepped into the ring for my first real match. It definitely changed my life. It had brought out the best and worst of me.

That was the first and last fight I lost. Humbling for sure, but life lessons were meant to be. It was also the last night I tried going back home.

I shook some of the memories out of my mind and refocused on Zia's information. If not for the past I would not be who I am today, and while it was important to remember that, there was a time and a place.

Now was not it.

I wasn't a scared kid anymore and my life agenda had steered off course again the day I met her. My first instinct had been to deny what stirred inside me. At least beyond the lust. Lust I understood well, and happily succumbed to when the timing was right.

To the rest of the world, I appeared as a hot headed boxer who often lost his temper and struggled with discipline. Because that's what I wanted the world to see. It fed the publicity machine that I had learned to use well.

Nino didn't know it, or maybe he did, but he taught me the value of discipline. Facing life wasn't all that different from facing an opponent. One simply had to size up the situation, analyze the various outcomes and then pursue the one that suited best. Obtaining the desired outcome was the most important part of dealing with any obstacle.

Winning Zia would be no different. Once I mapped out my strategy, I could attack the plan with everything I had. Starting with reminding her what had drawn us together in the first place.

Chemistry. Lust. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was a solid place to start and build from there.

Satisfied that I had a solid plan in place for the upcoming week, I settled into my seat with my iPad to review some more fight footage. I'd be arriving back in Vegas soon and I would hit the ground running. Until then, I would seek information to arm me for the coming battle.

Because make no mistake. Taking this fight with Callum Murphy was going to be a battle in more ways than one.

Chapter Three

ZIA

"They want me to do what?" My head throbbed as I stared at my assistant Julie as if she'd grown horns and a devil face. That's how ridiculous her words had been.

I had just woken with the hangover from hell when she'd handed me my agenda for the day. Something I already regretted looking at.

"Cater a private party. Tonight. I tried to tell them that was impossible, but Mr. Michaels insisted. Have youtalkedto him? He is so—so persuasive."

I fought not to shiver at her question. I was well aware of Gabe Michaels charms. It was one of the reasons I'd agreed to this deal. The man didn't seem to take no for an answer and the confidence oozing from him had made me want to succumb to his wishes.

He and Nina were the perfect couple. Although had I thought about it before I met them both, I would have expected Mrs. Michaels to be somewhat more— Finding the right word to describe it wasn't easy. Not meek. I could never imagine Gabe happy with a timid woman. But maybe someone who didn't seem to be hiding a wild streak a mile wide.

It took one to know one after all.

"Who is the party for?" I had learned from experience that the host made all the difference in the world. Although it could be the President and I wasn't sure I could handle it right now.

Nina and I had plowed through two bottles of wine as I babbled on about meeting Vincent in Italy and the nightmare it had turned into. I still couldn't believe I'd confessed everything to her. Well, not everything. I'd left out the resulting blackmail from my ex-husband and the results of that mess.

I'd, however, been pretty open about the sex and the cameras that had recorded it all. Heat began crawling up my neck and I shoved it away. I had no desire to drum up some almost false sense of embarrassment over it.

I'd been an idiot in Italy and I could admit it.

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