Page 52 of His Juliet

Matteo owed Ronan a life debt after the Mob Boss saved his life following a gunshot wound inflicted by the Russians. Matteo would always honor a life debt, even though he was bitter that Leona, the Irish’s top assassin, had endangered Sofiya’s life last year.

The waitress returned with our drinks. “Anything else I can get you, gentlemen?” Her eyes lingered on me and it made my skin crawl. I shook my head, and Dimitri gestured for her to leave us.

“If she’s not to your liking, is there anyone else who interests you?” Maxim asked, an easy smile on his face.

I made a noncommittal noise, which just made Maxim chuckle. “This is not what I expected from famous playboy Romeo.”

“I didn’t know my reputation preceded me,” I said dryly. The reputation I had carefully crafted so that people would underestimate me. I should have played into it tonight, but it felt wrong to even pretend to be interested in someone else.

“We can set you up in a private room if you prefer,” Dimitri said, taking a sip of his vodka.

“Not tonight. But if you had plans—” I gestured at the club.

The Pakhan gave me a rare, knowing smile. “What’s her name?”

My expression remained unchanging as I took a drink. “Whose name?”

“The girl you’re clearly obsessed with.”

I threw back the rest of the scotch. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Maxim let out a bark of laughter. “Sure you don’t.” He clasped his boss on the shoulder. “Should we show lover boy over here our other club instead?”

Dimitri lifted his chin. “Only the best for our new allies, connected to us through the bonds of family.”

* * *

I let outa laugh as we stepped into a large warehouse space. Raucous shouts filled this other “club,” which was clearly an underground fighting ring. The rough exterior belied the luxurious interior—a long, glossy bar lined the side of the room where men and women dressed in their finery came to watch the spectacle.

“Is this more to your liking?” Maxim asked, slapping me on the shoulder.

I cracked my neck, the energy of the crowd pulsing through me. “It’s something. Did this belong to the previous Pakhan?”

“Nah. Dimitri started this place a few months ago, and it’s exploded.”

The crowd here was just as wealthy and powerful as the one at the sex club. Celebrities and politicians lounged at the bar, placing bets and waiting for the fight to start.

“Who fights?” I asked. My blood was rising, and I had the urge to jump into the ring myself. After all the meetings, I was ready todosomething.

“You’ll see.” Maxim inclined his head and I turned to face the ring.

Dimitri Ivanov stepped onto the raised platform, his bare chest revealing slabs of muscle covered by dark tattoos and layers of scars. He turned, revealing a back even more thickly layered with scars. I narrowed my eyes. It was evident we knew very little of this new Pakhan. No one knew the specifics of what he’d done the past ten years for his father, except that he had spent most of his time in Russia.

Maxim seemed unsurprised at his boss stepping into the ring. A hulking opponent entered opposite Dimitri—a man with a shaved head and Bratva tattoos lining his muscular chest.

Everyone crowded around, shouting and placing last minute bets. The other man in the ring was a monster—close to seven feet tall with huge limbs—but my money was on the Pakhan. There was a dark intensity in his gaze… the same darkness I sometimes saw staring back at me in the mirror.

The bell rang and the carnage started. Violence saturated the air as the two men faced off, circling each other in the ring. Dimitri’s opponent threw the first punch, which he dodged before lashing out again with a sharp jab to the ribs. They danced around each other, the Pakhan light on his feet just like I’d predicted. He took a hard hit to his jaw, causing a few of the women in the crowd to scream. But he just spat the blood out of his mouth and delivered a series of hard hits to his opponent, eventually knocking him off balance by sweeping his legs from underneath him. They were a whirlwind of tangled limbs on the mat, but Dimitri made quick work of getting his opponent in a chokehold, not releasing him until he lost consciousness.

Maxim met my gaze, eyebrow cocked. One thing was certain—the new Pakhan was not someone to underestimate.

28

ROMEO

Vodka burneda line down my throat. I hated vodka, but we were two hours into our contract negotiation with the Bratva, meticulously hammering out every tedious detail of our trade agreement, and I couldn’t handle this completely sober.

Kill me now.

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