Page 117 of Ruthless Lord
“Glad you enjoyed it.”
“I enjoyed you. Everything you are.” He pulls me against him once we reach the truck. His lips find mine, soft and probing. A nice promise for later in his kiss. “Is it tacky to make out at a funeral?”
“Probably. You tell me. What were the norms like in the fifties when you were my age?”
His eyes widen. “Are you making old jokes?”
“I’m feeling catty.”
“I like it.” Another kiss. “Keep them coming. I enjoy punishing you.”
“Come on.” I climb into the truck. “I’m ready for this to be over.”
“Couldn’t agree more with that one.”
Chapter 37
Stefano
One Year Later
The crowd’sabuzz with excitement. The new light show Davide installed last month blazes lasers and colors across the ceiling. It’s some professional shit and a little much, but it gets the crowd hyped. Albert says betting income has increased six percent since we started using them. I’ll trust the numbers. Even if I’m not a numbers guy.
I slowly pace around the periphery of the arena. Most people don’t pay me any attention. I’m just an older man in a suit, limping a little bit, covered in facial scars and carrying an air of violence. The staff of the warehouse all nod respectfully, and a few of the friendlier waitresses come up to say hello and see if I need anything. The answer’s always the same: if I need something, I’ll get it myself, but thank you kindly for asking.
The lights above the ring suddenly snap on. White blazes across the canvas. The crowd erupts in ecstatic screaming as the first fighter is announced. Sterling Main marches down the aisle, hisentourage in tow, the young man smirking and waving at the people howling his name.
A shadow appears at my elbow. He crosses his arms, watching as the second, much less popular fighter enters the ring. “Do you ever miss it?”
I glance over. Adriano Marino looks back, smirking slightly. “Not really.”
“Come on, seriously? Not even seeing all this?” He gestures around at the crowd. “You feel that energy, right?”
“I feel it every night. Gets stale.”
“You’re such a cynic.”
We lapse into silence. Adriano’s been coming to the fights more and more often since I took over. I think he feels comfortable here among the rich bastards baying for blood.
The two men circle each other. Sterling Main is clearly the crowd favorite, but I like the look of his opponent. He’s a scrappy fighter, not flashy, nothing special, but stocky and well-built, with plenty of wear and tear on those joints.
“Where’s your money?” Adriano asks, staring at the two men. They haven’t clashed yet, and the tension’s thick in the air.
“I don’t want to say.”
“Come on. You’ve got an opinion, don’t you? Everyone loves Sterling.”
“He’s alright.”
“He’s undefeated in fifteen fights. And half of those have been against some seriously good opponents.”
I grunt as the two men clash. Sterling moves like liquid fire and hits like a freight train. He’s got the instincts of a killer and the reaction times of an F1 driver. The man flows around the ring like water.
He’s good. Really good. I can’t deny it, as much as I’d like to. Sterling takes some good punches and is even close to falling for a submission hold, but he eventually lands a nasty right hook and follows it with a jaw-shattering elbow.
The fight ends with blood and broken bones. Like all of Sterling’s fights do.
“Looks like we have our answer.” I nod at Adriano as I push off the wall. “Good to see you here, boss.”
