Page 29 of Mafie Kings

I make my way to the food hall and order a grilled cheese. While it's being prepared, I walk to the drink station and look at the beer selection. There are plenty of options for alcohol here on Elysium and no age limit. Since we are all from crime families and different countries, it would be strange to hold us to a single standard most of us won't live by.

Drinking age limits are one thing I’ve never truly understood anyways. If we are expected to be able to have jobs and run households at eighteen, then why would we not be allowed to choose what we drink? All that does is draw attention to it and create more problems.

I grab my beer and grilled cheese, then move to sit at the closest table. The throne-like couch is not appealing to me in the least. Alexi was the one who wanted it. He wanted to draw attention and set a standard for leadership. While the couch looks cool as shit, I have no interest in inflating my ego when I'm alone.

As I eat, I glance out the window and notice the lights in the gym are on. A small shadow is going at it on the mats, throwing combinations into a kickboxing bag faster than I’ve ever seen anyone move before. I can't quite make out who it is from here, but it makes me ache to join them to see if we’re on the same level.

I discard my half eaten sandwich and hardly touch beer and run back to the suite to grab my gym bag.

Fighting is the one thing I'm good at. I don’t have the brains like Lev, nor the strategy like Alexi, but I can cripple a man with one solid punch.

In Russia, my father would force me into underground cage fights. I’ve never lost a match, and it brought in good money I used for things I felt passionate about. My father loved feeling like he had the power in that room. Showing me off like a trophy, as if he trained me and not the fifteen men he hired to beat me up on a regular basis. That is, until I got the hang of holding my own. It was the only place where I ever made him proud.

Of course now, I don’t give a shit what he thinks of me. I learned a while ago that I wasn't much more than a pawn in his little game. Now I know the truth, I’m meant to be someone greater than what he could ever accomplish.

When my father would make money on the fights, we agreed to split it 50/50, until he found out where I ended up putting the money. Anger rises in me as I get back to the suite. I shake my head, not wanting to focus on that memory. I throw my gloves and water bottle in a bag, then grab my custom electric blue Venom Elites. I also grab a towel and a change of clothes, figuring I may as well shower there so I can get a longer workout in. When I walk out to head to the gym, I see Lev leaving for a run.

“Did you put the Tegaderm patch over the fresh tat when I left?” he asks quietly as we walk out the door together.

“Yeah, it was hardly large enough to fit over the whole piece, but I made it work. You headed for a run?”

“Yeah…couldn't sleep. I have a bad feeling about what the day is going to bring,” he says dismissively. “You headed to the gym?”

“Yup, someone was in there throwing some combinations on the bag, thought I'd assess my competition.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him mischievously.

“Don’t go too hard on 'em, D,” he says with a smile as he waves me off and begins his run.

I turn the corner to walk through the hall that heads into the gym, and the sweetest sound graces my ears. Swift smacks to the bag. Hits so intense they charge the air around the room, like lightning aching for that thunderous release.

I approach slowly and stay to the shadows, wanting to assess this possible competitor. When I catch a glimpse of the bag, I see a flash of silver hair whip around with the next hit.

Fuck. Evie James.She’s in there hitting the bag like she's preparing to go to war. Actually, that's probably pretty accurate after what Alexi did yesterday. When she got down on her knee, you could tell in her posture that in no way was she truly submitting. She was playing him, and he knew it, too. But damn it was a beautiful sight to behold.

I stand there watching her for almost thirty minutes before I realize just how long she's been going at it. Her hoodie is sticking to her from sweat, but she doesn't act like it bothers her, or that she might remove it. When she finishes her set a minute later and takes off her headphones, I figure it’s time to make myself known.

“What’s my Little Shadow doing in the gym at three in the morning?”

She jumps, clearly having no idea I've been watching her for an embarrassing amount of time. I surprise myself with the little nickname I’ve given her. It fits well, though. She fought a guy twice her size in class yesterday and danced around him like she was a lion playing with her food. Evie let the fight go for a whole five rounds and hardly broke a sweat. This is definitely the kind of girl who hides in the shadows and waits to strike. I might just have to re-read Peter Pan to take notes on how he made his little shadow obey him.

She’s staring at me with a blank expression on her face, so I decide to repeat my question as I toss my gym bag down by the mats.

“Well,” I start to ask with a raised eyebrow, “do you normally come to the gym when everyone is sleeping?”

She clears her throat and grabs her water bottle. She looks at me and shrugs. “I like being awake when the world is quiet. It's the only time there’s nothing expected of me.”

Evie pauses to take a drink, her plump lips wrapping around the water bottle and making me have to readjust my waistband. Stupid sweatpants give everything away.

Thank fuck she doesn't notice.

She mumbles as she turns her gaze away from me. “When everyone is asleep, I can be myself without having to fight anyone for it.”

Realizing she just said that out loud, she rushes to put down her water bottle and throw her headphones on, clearly anxious to block me out. I don't give her the chance though. Before she can put them back on, I grab her wrist and pull her into me. She's dripping sweat but still smells delicious, like vanilla and something tart. She starts to widen her stance to prepare for a fight when I say to her, “The moment you decide you aren't worth fighting for, is the moment you lose who you are.” My eyes never leave hers as I speak.

Her mouth drops open ever so slightly and a small gasp escapes her.

Well if I wasn't already hard.

She moves her mouth like a fish but no words come out. I don’t want to fluster her, I just want her to know the importance of embracing yourself in this life we live. We may be criminals, but we get to choose the kinds of criminals we want to be. We can be a Robin Hood, or we can be The Joker. We can give back as much as we take, or we can be greedy and let it drive us to insanity.

---