Twisted Loyalties (The Camorra Chronicles 1)

I turned to her.

“Why does anyone want to watch something that brutal?”

Brutal? She hadn’t seen brutal yet. If she was lucky, she never would. “It’s in our nature,” I said. “Survival of the fittest. Power struggles. Blood thirst. That’s all still ingrained in our DNA.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she argued. “I think we’ve moved on, but sometimes we fall back into old habits.”

“Then why do people still look up to the strong? Why do women prefer the alpha males?”

She snorted. “That’s myth.”

I cocked one eyebrow and leaned closer. I caught a glimpse down her dress. White cotton. Of course. “Is it?” I asked. She scanned my face, red crept up her throat and cheeks.

I stifled a laugh. I got up before she could say anything. I needed to get changed. “I’ll be back in a moment,” I told her.

When I entered the changing room, the other fighters fell silent. A couple of them returned my gaze, only one challenged me openly with his eyes. I assumed he’d be my opponent tonight. He was around 6’4. One inch taller than me. Good. Perhaps this would be a longer fight.

I got undressed, then pulled up my boxers. I hoped they’d seen all the scars. They knew nothing of pain. I sent my opponent a smirk. Maybe he’d live to see tomorrow.

I left the changing room and walked back to the bar. Leona was frozen as her eyes trailed from my bare feet up to my shorts and my naked chest. She dropped the glass she’d been cleaning back into the washing water. A myriad of emotions flashed across her face. Shock. Confusion. Fascination. Appreciation. That last one I could feel in my dick. I’d worked hard for my body.

I grabbed my glass and downed the rest of my water. Then I took the tape out of my bag and began wrapping my hands, feeling her curious gaze on me the entire time.

“You are one of them?”

I tilted my head, not sure what she was referring to. A fighter? A member of the Camorra? A killer? Yes, yes, yes.

There was no fear in her eyes, so I said, “A cage fighter? Yes.”

She licked her lips. Those damn pink lips gave my cock ideas I didn’t need before a fight.

“I hope I didn’t offend you earlier.”

“Because you think it’s too brutal? No. It’s what it is.”

Her eyes kept tracing my tattoo and the scars, and occasionally my sixpack. I leaned over the bar, bringing our faces closer. I knew everyone was watching us, even if they tried to do it secretly.

“Are you still certain women aren’t into alpha males?” I murmured. She swallowed but didn’t say anything.

I took a step back. Everyone in the room should have got the message.

The look she gave me tightened my balls. Something about that girl drew me in. I couldn’t say what it was, but I’d figure it out.

“It’s my turn,” I told her when I was done taping my hands.

“Don’t get hurt,” she said simply. The men near the bar exchanged looks, snickering, but Leona was unaware of their reaction.

“I won’t,” I said, then turned and made my way past the tables toward the fighting cage.

I stepped into the cage under the yowling and thunderous applause of the crowd. I wondered how many had bet against me. They’d be rich if it came to that. Of course, they’d never win.

I caught Leona watching me from behind the bar counter, eyes still wide in surprise. Yes, I was a fighter, and that was still the least dangerous part of me.

She put down what she was doing and came around the counter. She climbed on a bar stool, shook off her flip-flops and brought her legs up until she sat cross-legged, the skirt of her dress carefully draped over her thighs. This girl. She didn’t belong here.

My opponent entered the cage. He called himself Snake. He even had snakes tattooed to his throat; they rose up over his ears and bared their fangs on both sides of his head. Snake. What a fucking stupid name to give yourself. I didn’t know why people thought a scary name would make them seem scary in turn. I’d never had to call myself anything but Fabiano, and it was enough.

The ref closed the door and explained the rules to us. There were none. Except that this wasn’t a fight to the death, so Snake would likely live.

Snake hit his chest with his flat hands, letting out a battle cry. Whatever got his courage up…

I lifted a hand and beckoned him forward. I wanted to get this fight going. With a roar he charged at me like a bull. I dodged him, grabbed his shoulder and rammed my knee into his left side three times in quick succession. The air left his lungs but he didn’t fall. He swung a fist at me. And got my chin. I jumped back, aimed a hard kick at his head and despite his quick reaction, my heel caught his ear. He staggered into the cage, shook his head and attacked again. This would be fun.