Page 23 of The Pretty Savage

Yolanda wore heeled boots, but the top of her head barely came to his chin. He stopped in front of her, and like watching a movie in slow motion, he lifted his hand carefully taking hers and lifting it to his lips. He paid no attention to me and it was obvious he didn't care who I was or what some rules said, but it was also obvious that he was powerful enough to ignore them as well.

Yolanda's loud gasp penetrated through the cave as his lips pressed against her skin, and I hid the chuckle that was threatening to erupt when I saw how red her cheeks were.

"I apologize for Maurizio's rudeness," he murmured. "I hope you can forgive us."

"I-I—" she stammered. "Yes, of course. It's not a problem."

I could've stayed here the entire night as the two of them gave each other those little heart eyes, but I still had no idea who he was and I wasn't about to spend the next couple of hours standing here, when I wanted to know what was happening inside.

"And you are?" I asked, breaking the little bubble they were stuck in. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I would love to stand here the whole night and freeze my ass off while you try to charm my friend," I murmured sarcastically, "but I would much rather get inside and see what all the fuss is about."

His stormy eyes connected with mine, all pleasantries he had etched on his face for Yolanda completely gone now. If I were a lesser woman I might have lowered my eyes and let fear slither into my veins from the strength of the annoyance he was exuding, but I was surrounded by people like him on a regular basis, and I wasn't about to show him my belly just because he looked at me like he wanted to kill me.

"Vega Konstantinova," he mumbled, stepping away from Yolanda. "I have never heard of you." Ouch.

"If you've never heard of me then that means I'm very good at my job." I smirked. Two could play this game and my name wasn't something I wanted these people to know. There was a reason why I worked for an organization that was called The Schatten, which quite literally meant The Shadow. There was a reason why I was the best at what I did.

No one ever suspected a girl like me could kill men twice her size and disappear without a trace. They took one look at me and put me into the ‘damsels in distress’ category, when I was anything but.

"Really?"

"Yes, really." I took a step forward, extending my hand to him. "So, let's try this again, shall we? My name is Vega." My eyebrow lifted when he just stood there, letting my hand hang between us. "Vega Konstantinova. And you are?"

Yolanda's eyes volleyed between the two of us, and judging by the look on her face, this situation was anything but welcome. But I wasn't going to allow these people to intimidate me. I wasn't gonna let them treat me like a lesser being just because I didn't have a fancy last name or because my parents weren't mafia royalty.

I shook my hand in the air, my eyes slicing through him, and if looks could kill, I would've been dead at least five minutes ago. But as the saying would have it, if you show them your strength and that you're not afraid of them, bullies usually step down and start treating you like an equal.

His long legs closed the distance between us and his long fingers wrapped around mine, tightening their hold as if to show me the dominance he already had in spades. I didn't need him to remind me of his strength, nor did I want to make an enemy of someone who was obviously powerful, but a girl had to do what a girl had to do.

I tightened my hold on him and his left eyebrow reached his forehead just as the corner of his mouth lifted up, smirking at me.

"I think we're gonna be good friends, Vega."

"I highly doubt it," I said, shaking his hand for longer than usual. "But I'm willing to participate in that little fantasy of yours."

"Vega!" Yolanda exclaimed, trying to hide the smile erupting on her face. "Play nice."

"This is me playing nice," I told her. "But he still didn't tell me his name, and I cannot be friends with people who are so unwilling to tell me who they are."

"This is—" she started, only to be interrupted by the intriguing man standing in front of me.

"Jax," he said, smiling widely. "Jax Astoria." And it was time for my eyes to widen. "Welcome to The Pit, Vega." The devilish look on his face told me everything I needed to know.

I was standing at the entrance to hell.

10

VEGA

Both Yolanda and I kept quiet as Jax led us inside, and I had to admit—the interior of this place was nothing like I imagined.

Jax's words kept echoing in my head, the name he so aptly used for this place really did fit, but where I expected blood-soaked floors and sacrificial altars, black marble spread throughout the hallway we were led down, mixing with blood red stones that were covering the floor in the main room, right where the massive ring was placed.

The same inscriptions that were on the walls outside were placed on the walls inside as well, and whoever made this place also made sure to keep the walls of the cave intact. I lifted my head toward the painting-covered ceiling, most probably not from this century, showing a fall of angels, and wondered what this room was initially made for, because there was no way something like this existed before they opened the Academy.

"There are more than a hundred tunnels underneath the Academy," Jax informed us, bringing my attention back to him as we walked toward the tall table placed just on the right side of the entrance to the main room. "We have never been able to explore them all."

"And they were used during the Second World War, right?" my little geek, Yolanda piped in, her eyes sparkling with interest as she looked at Jax. "I've read about it. About the time when this was just a cathedral, used for refugees and the partisans."

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