Page 78 of Lethal Legacy

Smart.

I’m starting to get seriously pissed off.

“What the fuck’s into you?” I land one on his shoulder, but it’s not enough to slow him down. “Too drunk to get it up last night?”

His grin fades. “Fuck you.” He throws a punch hard enough to leave a proper bruise on my ribs.

I spin away from his next one. “Looks like it’s you who’s got the soft spot.” I bounce off the ropes and cross the ring, grinning as I wipe the blood from my face. “Let me guess. The other waitress. Annie? Abby?”

“Keep that fucking name out of your mouth,” he snarls. He comes in hot, landing a series of blows to my gut that knock the breath out of me and almost put me on my ass.

Almost.

I take a breather on the ropes and eye him up. Dimitry is grinning again, little prick. “Even hungover, I can still take you.” He cocks an eyebrow at me from a safe distance. “Especially now the nanny’s got you whipped.”

I growl and charge in, pummeling his ribs.

“Tell me,” he grunts between blows. “What comes after that bullshit nanny contract? Marriage certificate and a baby shower?”

I roar and smash my fist into his face, and then we’re in it, locked together as we grapple for ascendancy. “There’s nothing there,” I snarl, getting in a double jab that fucks his nose right up. “You’re right off base, brother.”

“Talking of bases.” Blood is streaming from Dimitry’s nose, but the fucker’s grin is bigger than ever. “Did she scream when you hit the home run,brother?It’s always the quiet ones who—”

Oh, no you fucking didn’t.

That’s it.

I unleash the fury that made me a legend on the Miami streets a long time ago and that still lives in me when it fucking counts. I let him have everything I’ve got—in the ribs, the face, anywhere I can reach, landing every blow with gunshot precision.

Finally, Dimitry hits the mat like the great hunk of meat he is.

Bastard is still smiling.

“Stay down, asshole,” I snarl.

He lies flat on his back, wiping blood from his face, still grinning. “Oh, I was planning to. And there’s the added bonus of scaring the shit out of the geek squad, of course.” He tilts his chin toward the ropes.

Clearly word of our bout must have gone around, because the room is full of every tech head in the building, all staring at us with an almost comical look of horror and awe. My own men are grinning ear to ear. They’ve all tested themselves against Dimitry before. None of them ever got up off the mat.

“They’ll be talking about that one for a while,” Dimitry says, wincing as he stretches his arms over his head. “Not a bad thing, them seeing you knock me down. They’ll remember that if ever they get the urge to betray you.”

I grunt in response, but he’s right. Every now and then it’s good to remind them of why I’mpakhan. Nice suits and slick cars can give people the wrong impression. Sometimes they need to remember how all of that was won—and fists is what it all comes down to. Who has the balls for the fight, when it counts. Who is prepared to face death and fight their fucking way out of it.

I might have put Dimitry on his ass, but I’ve always known he’s the one I want by my side when death comes for me. Mikhail was my brother, and I loved him. But Dimitry is my blood. He’s the one who lay curled beside me on the nights when we had only concrete for a bed and only our fists to protect us. I’ve watched Dimitry face down men three times his size before he was even in his teens, all with that shit-eating grin, like he was daring them to hurt him. And I’ve watched him get up from punches that would have killed a kid twice his size.

I could have left him behind when Yuri took me off the streets.

Instead I refused to go anywhere without him.

Dimitry and I are a package deal.

I’d have stayed in Miami if it meant keeping Dimitry safe. And he knows that, just like I know he’d die before he let anyone harm what’s mine.

“What did get into you?” I cast him a curious glance as I pull him to his feet. “Haven’t seen you hit like that in a while.”

“Nothing important.” His face shuts down in a way that tells me he isn’t ready to talk about whatever it is.

I shrug and let it go, heading for the showers. You can’t push Dimitry, and fuck knows, I don’t like it when he pushes me.

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