Page 96 of Filthy and the Beast

“I asked him if he had any fights coming up. If he even had any leads. The answer was a firm no. And I could have asked about that fight specifically, but the only reason I know is because I snooped. Lowkey! But it’s a big honking deal for him to share his bed with me.” My heart squeezes, hurting for Enzo. “He let me in his room, and I broke his trust by poking around.” I'm disappointed in myself, but not nearly as much as I’m mad at him.

Shadow reaches into the mini-fridge and hands a couple bottles of tea to me and Nico. “Just because he had that ad doesn’t mean he’s planning to fight.”

Eyes back out over the city, I sip the tea. “Maybe. But it still feels wrong. Like there’s this entire other part of Enzo and his life that he’s hiding from me. And maybe that should be okay. He’s not my partner. But we’re so close. I just thought…” I trail off, sad.

The words come back again.The Fighter with No Honor. It chills me. Makes me want to defend him—he’s one of the most honorable people I’ve ever met. Just as quickly, another wave of doubt crushes because I can’t trust him right now. He kept this secret, and there could be so many more, too. What if I’m wrong about him?

I sink into the couch.

“Do you want to watch your viral video again?” Nico asks kindly.

My latest video of the dogs is exploding. I posted it before everything went sideways, my signature style set over one of the cheesy eighties songs I heard Enzo listening to, “Sweet Child of Mine.” I added a bunch of stories and facts about how pit bulls are natural caretakers of children and other animals.

People love it. The comments have been my bittersweet go-to when I’m emotionally overwhelmed and need a release, but thinking about the ad for the fight, I realize I need something else.

“The Vegas Thrashing,” I say. “I have to watch his fight.”

Nico and Shadow exchange a glance across me. Nico hesitates for a moment, then nods as Shadow twists and grabs his laptop.

I’ve avoided this for months, but seeing Enzo’s bloody face in the ad, I can’t anymore. I pull up a version of the fight on YouTube, and my friends move closer.

A younger version of Enzo bounces around the ring in a little pair of boxing shorts. He looks ridiculously hot, and the strength and determination in his eyes catches me.

The fight starts. The other guy is big, but not nearly as fast as Enzo. They destroy each other, both throwing wild, angry punches. But quickly, Enzo loses his cool. He’ll keep the other guy back, then drop his arms at the exact wrong moment, letting a devastating blow crush his face. It’s erratic and unhinged, more so every round.

Tense and unable to handle it, I fast forward to the infamous ending, staring on in horror. Nico takes my hand, squeezing, while Enzo takes a fist directly on his chin. He stumbles back, falls to the ground knocked out. But the moment the referee calls the match, he’s up again. He jumps on his opponent and slams him into the mat while blood drips down his face and people rush forward to pull him off.

My memory flashes back to the day I was nearly mugged, and my anxiety spikes, my heart pounding like I’m in the ring myself.

I slam the laptop shut. “That’s enough.”

“It’s intense,” Shadow says. “Must be hard to watch.”

Hands shaky, I stand up. “It’s not him.” I pace in front of the window. “That’s just fundamentally not who Enzo is!”

I sound hysterical, but I feel that way. The connection I have with Enzo is real; I refuse to believe the person I saw in that fight is the same man I’ve been falling in love with.

Nico sits up straight. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s not that man. I really like Enzo. We’ve only spent a little time together, and I know he’s gruff. But he’s kind, too. And I see how sweet he is with you, Damian. So maybe there’s some other reason Enzo acted that way in the fight, and some other reason he’s considering taking on the role of the fighter without honor again.”

Pacing, I rack my brain. “Another reason for the fight, maybe. But if he’s so opposed to it, why would he consider another match positioning him that way?”

“Stuck in a contract? Or seeking fame? Glory?” Shadow asks.

“He hates attention. More than anyone I know. And he loves fighting, but I can’t believe he’d allow his name to be trashed like that, even if it were the only possible way he could fight again. There’s no glory in what I saw.”

Nico turns his hands palm up. “Money?”

“It couldn’t be. He’s paying me and paying for this roof, and he always insists he’s got what he needs to cover it. He’s probably got millions of dollars in his investments.”

I stop pacing.

The amount he keeps in his investments is an assumption I’ve been making. I don’t actually know he has millions squirreled away.

“The roof. Paying me.” I form a clearer picture. “Oh god.”

“You think he could be doing it for the money?” Nico asks.

“But that would be ridiculous.” I'm pacing again. “If he’s so desperate for money, he could stop paying for a live-in assistant. Even if money were the excuse, he should talk to me about it. Enzo doesn’t have to support me, and he certainly doesn’t have to run around compromising himself and his integrity in secret just to keep me in a mansion. We could be in this together. Enzo doesn’t need to be some perfect model of a successful adult for me to care about him. Especially if he’s like—"

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