Page 28 of Striker

Dani's face breaks into a glorious grin and her gang of granddads breaks out into cheers.They'd raise her on their shoulders if it wouldn't kill them.The man with the clipboard comes forward to raise her hand in triumph.

Game, set, match.

When Clipboard releases her hand, the losing Mafioso steps forward and extends his hand to shake my woman's hand.

Smiling, she takes it.

They shake.

Then, with a sick grin on his face, he pulls her close and reaches around to slap her on the ass.

Before I know it, I'm on my feet, my fists clenched, ready to storm forward and break this man into pieces.

I want Dani humbled, sure, but not like this.

No one touches her.

No one but me.

But I'm brought to a halt when Dani levels a confident look right at me.

I've got this, it says.

How the hell does she have this under control?

What is she going to do? Throw a fist at a made man and get herself shot for her insolence? I don't know much about the Mafia, but even I know a woman doesn't raise her hand to a made man and live. Anyone who's seen any Mafia movie knows that.

Instead, she doesn't touch the guy at all.

Dani simply leans to whisper in the ear of one of her Italian grandfathers, and that old gentleman snaps his fingers and has three more grandfathers at attention in a second. They surround the smirking younger man, who loses his grin as the oldest guy grips his ear in a merciless pinch and twists him to his knees.

"Apologize to the lady," he says in thickly accented English.

The younger man doesn't even struggle. Wherever he is on the food chain, he's nowhere close to the old shark who has his ear in a death-grip.

"Sorry," he spits.

The old man twists his ear again, making the younger man howl.

"She beat you. You have no reason to disrespect the young lady like that. Apologize like you mean it."

"All right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Can you forgive me?"

Expectant eyes land on Dani. One shake of her head, and this impudent punk will lose an ear.

She nods.

The old men release him, and he walks away, rubbing his blistering red ear. As the crowd of supportive old men encircle her to celebrate her victory, she and I lock eyes for a moment.

See? I told you I can handle myself, her look says. Dani’s not just Smokey's little sister — she's fearless, capable, and commands respect from people who don't give it easily. This is her moment.

I didn't break her; I elevated her.

Elevated her, and got myself a glimpse of who she really is.

My return glance says something else. Something respectful, but filled with the emotion we both know burns between us. A powerful emotion. One we have to fight, because if we give in to it here, now…

It will get us both killed.

---