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So I was just supposed to sit here and listen to this man babble nonsense, asking me questions about things that don't have any relevance?

Did she really expect me to just be nodding in agreement at his pathetic attempts to pull me into conversation?

There was only so much patience I'd be able to muster up. I couldn't see myself sitting there, listening to him talk circles around shit I didn't care about.

“Get to the point.” My arm lifted, a single finger spinning for him to move on.

“The man you had it out with, do you know who he is?” Louis slid the cigar back into the box, pushing it out of the way, his hands folded together.

“A dick named Nico, who was treating your daughter like shit.” Shifting in the chair to the other side, a cracking sound spread through the seat. I half expected it to give way, splitting in two, landing me on my ass.

“That dick... Makes me a lot of money. Probably more money than you've ever laid eyes on.” His hands squeezed together tighter, thumbs sliding side by side. His lips barely moved as he spoke.

I don't really give two flying fucks about who or what Nico was to him. He didn't mean shit to me. All I saw was a scared little prick, using his size to threaten a woman.

“Are you saying that you don't care that he talked to your daughter like she was a fucking maid, like she was supposed to jump when he spoke?” The words rode my tongue, forced out through gritted teeth. “Because I just met your daughter, and I wasn't going to let him do that.”

Rage started to wrap around my muscles, its grip filtering through each thread. I couldn't believe his passiveness over one of his own treating his daughter that way.

How could he just dismiss it?

Money or not, it doesn't make it right. Was his bank roll more important than his own blood?

“Quinn, that man works for me. Nico has an obligation he can't fulfill now because of you. So I need to know how you're going to fix that?” He sat motionless, no concern or care in his face. Lifeless eyes slithered around his head, waiting for an answer.

He really didn't care about his daughter. He could have shown some compassion, asked me what was said, talked about reprimanding his employee.

But did he?

No.

“That's not my problem.” Cocking my jaw out to the side, my hands squeezed around the wooden arms tighter, ready to yank them clear off the chair.

Who the hell does this guy think he is?

I'm not going to fix anything for him.

He doesn't even care that the fuck face was screaming at his daughter, making a scene in his bar. He didn't want to thank me, he thinks I caused this. He thinks that I was the issue in the whole thing.

Lifting his finger, he pointed towards me. “That's where you're wrong. I'm not going to lose a shitload of money, Quinn, because you wanted to be a hero, hoping to get in my daughter's pants.” He pushed back from his seat, stepping around to the front of his desk. “You were able to take out my top fighter, that's not an easy task.” He brought his finger up to his mouth, digging deep into his teeth, flicking the debris to the floor.

“Fighter? Fighter for what?” Confused, my brows angled up. That word sent chills down my spine. I hated to hear anyone say 'fighter.'

“I saw what you did to him, I know what you're capable of. Nico, he's never lost one fight, and you rendered him helpless. I want you to work for me, take his place.”

“No, I can't do that. You're going to need to find someone else.” The veins in my neck bulged, shaking as my head swayed.

“You didn't let me finish.” His index finger wagged side to side. “I pay well. You'll never have to worry about keeping your head above water.”

My lip snarled up. “No. We're done here.” Pressing up, my legs were heavy. I wanted to kick him, kick his offer clear down his throat.

Louis held a hand up. “I don't need an answer now. Think about it.” Turning towards his desk, he scribbled on a small note pad. “There's a match tomorrow night. Come and watch, feel it out. I could make it worth your while.” Slipping the paper into my hand, he tipped his head. “You can see yourself out.”

I stood silently, crumpling the paper and shoving it into my back pocket. A sickening feeling flooded my gut. This had been a trap, a gimmick to keep his pockets full.

I'm not going to fight for this prick. I can't.

I gave that up a long time ago.