Page 73 of Revenge & Ruin

Now that these men look at me with respect and wariness, the walk to my office is another kind of test, but one that is no less unforgiving.

“Do you have an update on the next South African shipment?”

“Some of the kids down by the bay were saying the cartel were scouting out territory.”

“Mitchell is still on house arrest. Have you spoken to the chief of police?”

“Teo!” Dante’s voice booms out over the gathered crowd.

I look up to find him leaning over the railing of the fighting ring, boxing gloves tucked under his arm.

“Care for a spar?”

Grateful for an excuse to leave the rabble behind, I head over to the gym and ditch my jacket and shirt in a locker.

Dante is waiting patiently when I arrive on the mat and he hands me a pair of matching gloves.

“You’ve been busy,” he comments mildly as we both prepare ourselves.

It’s been a while since I was last in the ring, but as I stretch out and begin to bounce on my toes, the familiarity of the movements begins to sink in. I feel my shoulders relax, my gaze zoned in on my target.

“This is the Guild,” I reply. “If I’m not busy, what kind of don would I be?”

We begin to circle each other, testing the waters with a few lunges that result in hasty retreats.

“Little birdy said you were at the Candelabralast night.”

I bite back a groan and channel my frustration into a double shot to Dante’s head. He blocks it easily.

“Did this birdy also happen to tell you about the appearance of our favorite wedding crasher?”

“Only that you escorted her out.”

This time, I fake a left and throw out with my right, clipping Dante on the back of his neck. He retaliates instantly, and I have to take a step back in order to block him.

“What are they saying?”

“The smarter ones are saying you’re negotiating.”

I hit him four times, concise and short, alternating each hand. Each is absorbed by Dante’s gloves. “And the less smart?”

Dante retreats a few steps and begins to circle me again. “You don’t want to know.”

“And if I do?”

Dante shoots me a displeased look. “She’s a beautiful woman, Teo.”

When he lunges for me, I’m ready. On the second block, I counter with my own blow to his stomach, bypassing his defenses. It’s my window to get in and hit him hard.

A part of me rejoices as the reverberations shake through my body. Finally, a release to the frustrations of the last few weeks. So, I keep lashing out and meeting my mark with more and more force.

Dante can take it. Or at least, he can try to. His retaliations bounce off the side of my head, off my forearms, but nothing can stop me, not really.

When I finally relent, Dante looks more than a little winded. But before I can wince out an apology, there’s a slow clap from the sidelines.

“I think these days you might actually stand a chance against Mia,” a familiar voice heckles.

“Rocco?”

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