Page 48 of A Knight’s Revenge: The Complete Series

CHAPTER ELEVEN

JOLIE

D om’s gym was abuzz with the usual Saturday afternoon crowd.

Located in the heart of the Southside, the gym was a converted warehouse in which Dom had invested every dollar of his savings from his time in the Special Forces, and he’d turned it into a state-of-the-art fitness facility and MMA training center.

The gym was sandwiched between a dilapidated apartment complex and an aging strip mall made up of constantly rotating small businesses trying to survive—currently, a bail bondsman, a paycheck loan center, and a dry cleaner.

Dom had built a place where the Southside’s denizens could come channel their anger and frustration into something productive—something beautiful, even. I’d seen many a jaded teen trudge reluctantly through these doors and exit years later a confident, centered member of society.

“Careful,” Max goaded me as I slammed a fist into the punching bag we were using to warm up. “That manicure looks expensive.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I said, laughing. “First of all, this is dip. It can handle a little bag work.” I threw another two punches into the bag. “Second, you need to come with Mari and me next time because your nails look like shit.”

Max made a show of looking at his chipped dark-gray nail polish with a horrified gasp. “You’re right. I’ll never land a rich sugar mama or daddy looking like this.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re an idiot. You’ll be your own sugar daddy when you turn twenty-one and you get access to your trust.”

I’d set it up for him as soon as the Knight Foundation had returned my inheritance. I’d also paid off every dollar of debt Dom and Laura carried on the gym, the bookstore, and the mortgage on the apartment. Whatever might happen to me, I’d made sure my family would be taken care of.

Max sighed wistfully. “Then that Bugatti will be mine.”

I punched him playfully in the shoulder before we both settled back into our usual routine of fucking around with the bags and stretching.

As I folded my body in half to work out my hamstrings, I closed my eyes and took in the familiar sounds of the gym—the clanging of weights being lifted and dropped, the grunts and yells coming from the fighters sparring in the cage and the spectators cheering them on, the whirring of the assault bikes, the hard footfalls on the treadmills—all of it settling over me like a warm blanket.

This was home.

“Hey, Joanna—shit, I mean, Jolie.”

I looked up to find Matt Jennings leaning against the nearby wall, dressed in a tank top sporting the gym’s tiger logo and worn training shorts. His light brown hair flopped across his sweaty forehead, and he crossed his toned arms casually as he gave me a warm smile.

Max snorted from next to me, shifting away to suddenly get really busy going after the bag again, and I made a mental note to throttle him later.

“Hey, Matt,” I replied, continuing my stretch. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he said, his bright hazel eyes taking me in with an innocent eagerness, which was kind of endearing since this boy had definitely seen me naked. “I mean, still reeling a bit from, well, you know….” He waved a hand at me.

“Ah, yeah, I’ll bet,” I replied with a wry grin. I’d been half worried I wouldn’t be welcomed back at the gym after revealing who I actually was, but honestly, most of the clientele had just rolled with it like it wasn’t the weirdest thing they’d seen this year.

“Hey, so, I was wondering?— ”

The sound of the bell over the front door distracted us both, and more than a few of the patrons stopped what they were doing to stare as an unfamiliar man dressed in a black hoodie and tight gray sweatpants came waltzing through the front door.

He came to a stop in the middle of the gym, turning in a circle to take it all in. As he turned my way, he paused and dropped his hood, revealing the sexy, smirking face of Zach Ferrero.

He headed straight for me, striding confidently through the crowd, his dark eyes alight with mischief.

The whispers started.

“Who’s that ?”

“Oh shit, is that ? —”

“—Ferrero—”

“—really Zach Ferrero?”

Pictures of the Heirs were very tightly controlled by the Families until they graduated from college and began their careers, so Zach’s face wouldn’t have been immediately recognizable like his mother’s was.

But there were enough people in this gym that made a living working security for the City’s elite that at least some of them would have seen Zach in person at some point, so by the time he made it to where I stood—gaping at him from my mat—everyone in the gym knew who’d just walked in.

“Hey, Princess,” Zach said with a big grin. He placed a possessive hand around the back of my neck and drew me close, dropping a quick kiss on my forehead before releasing me.

Then his eyes snagged on Matt.

Poor Matt, who was still in his spot on the wall and now appeared… frustrated.

Zach narrowed his dark eyes dangerously. “You again? Get lost, dude. She’s not for you.”

“Zach,” I huffed, exasperated, crossing my arms to glare at him.

Matt sighed audibly before he slunk away, defeated once again. I didn’t try to stop him because, while I felt shitty about it, since Matt was cute and fucking nice , even if we didn’t have what I’d call great chemistry—Zach was right.

I wasn’t for Matt.

Still, I eyeballed Zach suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

His wicked smile returned, spreading slowly across his handsome face. “I’m sorry, did you think you were sleeping without me tonight?”

My stomach swooped, a warm feeling fizzing through my veins. I was thankful I’d already worked up a flushed, sweaty face or else I might’ve embarrassed myself in front of the whole damn gym.

I reined it in. I was a powerful, independent woman, and I would not be undone by the prospect of cuddles . “Presumptuous, Zach. You want to cram into my tiny bunk bed in our little apartment? I’m not sure our accommodations will be up to your standards.”

“That’s right.” Max appeared at my side. He threw his big arm over my shoulder and met Zach’s cocky smirk with one of his own. “Three’s a crowd, Ferrero. Jojo’s already got a bunk buddy.”

Zach’s eye twitched. “I suggest you remove your arm from her, Miller, before I break it. We all know you’re not actually her cousin .”

“No, he’s not,” I snapped. “He’s my brother, and you’ll treat him with respect. And I’ll be the one to say who does and does not get to touch me, you overbearing ass.”

“He’s just running his mouth, anyway,” Max added with a taunting grin. “Ferrero wishes he could break my arm before I put him underneath me.”

“Yeah? Let’s go, then, you little shit.”

“ Zach .”

“Fuck yeah,” Max replied, releasing me to step toe to toe with Zach as they really sized each other up, the testosterone level quickly rising to suffocating.

They were almost the same damn size—Max was an inch taller, but Zach had several pounds of muscle on him.

Max went on, “I owe this dick a beating for how he treated my sister last semester.”

“ Max ,” I groaned, but they were off, marching toward the cage in the very center of the gym, the way clearing for them as if everyone knew something big was about to go down.

I scurried after them, excitement at the prospect of watching the two most skilled fighters I’d ever faced go up against each other warring with the dread I felt at the chance that either of them might be hurt.

They were already in the cage—an octagonal fence that bordered a thick, elevated sparring mat—by the time I reached the perimeter, both of them shirtless and eyeing each other with menace. The entire gym had dropped whatever they were doing and surrounded us, the eagerness for bloodshed palpable.

“You ever had a real challenge, Ferrero?” Max taunted him. “How many fights have you won because your opponent was just another Family ass-kisser who didn’t want Mommy mad at him for messing up her Heir’s pretty face?”

Zach tutted at him. “So mouthy. Runs in the family , doesn’t it?”

I climbed the few feet necessary to lean over the side of the octagon’s fence and hiss, “If either of you maims the other one in any serious way, I will fucking murder you!”

That only made Zach grin like a maniac at Max. “Hear that? She loves me just as much as she loves you.”

Max glowered at him. “You haven’t earned that, asshole.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, dropping back down to the floor before I made shit worse.

Dom sidled up next to me. “I suppose there’s no stopping this?” He’d abandoned his post at the front desk, and now he watched with a wary look as his son and the Ferrero Heir circled each other.

“Um, no, probably not. Max has had it out for the guys since day one, and Zach has suddenly become a little… territorial.”

He eyed me dubiously. “Uh-huh. Do I need to be worried about you?”

I quirked an eyebrow.

“Do I need to be worried about you beyond all the other usual shit I worry about on a daily basis?”

I snorted. “No, Dom. I can handle… attention from a boy.”

Usually. This boy, though, was trying to push me… places.

“Right, well, if you need me to clean my Beretta in front of him in an archaic display of paternalistic bullshit, you just let me know.”

I grinned at the mental image. “I would, but I’ve seen Zach hang a guy from a meat hook and put a bullet in his head, so it will probably take a lot more than that to scare him off.”

“Fair point.”

Then, with a resigned sigh, he climbed into the cage.

“Alright, settle down everyone!” Dom’s voice boomed over the excited chatter surrounding us, and the crowd quieted almost instantly because the boss was talking.

“I know this isn’t an official Fight Night, but I’m sure most of you have noticed that we have a special guest today.

” He darted a glance at Zach with a look that screamed, “ I’ve got my eye on you ,” and Zach, to his credit, just returned it with a respectful nod.

“So, I’m going to just remind everyone of the usual rules and lay down a new one.

The fight will end when one person taps out or I call a draw.

And for today, there will be no filming or pictures allowed, and absolutely no posting anything to social media unless you want to be dealing with the Families wiping your Instagram account from the face of the earth. ”

Assenting murmurs and nods all around. Andrea would certainly have a coronary if it was made public that her precious baby was down here, mixing with the working class, and the citizens of the Southside knew better than to fuck around in Family shit.

That was an affliction of the City’s elite.

“Everyone good?” Dom looked around the gym and then at Zach and Max, who both seemed very antsy and also very bloodthirsty, and it made me nervous.

They nodded. Dom strode to the edge of the cage, then shouted. “Fight!”

Without a second’s hesitation, they charged.