Page 2 of Ruthless Lord

“Honestly, I already beat one man unconscious tonight, so I’m thinking, why not make it two?”

It’s that new fighter. He’s in shorts but still shirtless.

His smile is lazy, almost arrogant, as he grips Big Boss’s wrist tightly, holding the knife up high between them.

Fighter’s eyes move to mine, and I swear his smile gets a little bit bigger, and before Big Boss can reply, Fighter snaps his neck forward and rams his forehead straight into Big Boss’s nose.

It breaks with an audible crunch. Blood gushes down Big Boss’s face, drenching the front of his shirt, as he curses and groans with shock.

Fighter moves with grace and ease. It’s amazing, if I’m honest. I’ve seen dozens of pit warriors move through this warehouse over the years, but this guy makes a brutal hallway brawl seem like a ballet recital.

His movements are precise and fluid, and he looks like he’s barely putting in any effort at all.

He twists Big Boss’s wrist, making him scream in pain and drop the knife, before bringing his knee up and into Big Boss’s guts.

Fighter twists, slams Big Boss down onto the floor, and wraps him in a complicated chokehold. Smiling the whole time.

“Gotcha, big guy, don’t you worry,” Fighter says softly, his arms flexing hard as Big Boss tries to struggle against him. “Just relax. It’ll be okay. I’ll let you go before you’re dead. Well, probably. Only ever lost a guy once. Twice, actually.”

“Urkkkk, urkkkkk, fuuucckkkkk,” Big Boss chokes and gags out, “fuuuuckkkk youuuuuuu.”

“Rude.” Fighter tightens his grip, and Big Boss goes limp. Fighter holds the choke a few seconds longer before letting him go.

Big Boss slumps to the ground, unconscious.

I stare in abject shock and terror. Big Boss wasn’t some weak little nothing.

If he was handling Bloody Fist money, that means he knows how to carry himself in a battle.

Most likely he spent time in the rings down there, performing for the mega-rich men and women that come through this place, and was skilled enough for a promotion.

And this stranger just made him look like a child.

“You good?” Fighter gets to his feet and absently wipes some blood from his hands onto his shorts. “Sorry for the blood. He was a squirter.”

“I’m… okay.” I stare at his chest, damp with sweat. “You have more blood… right here.” I reach out and touch a spot near his left nipple. Not something I’d normally do, but my head’s swimming and this man is so damn attractive that I can’t help myself.

“Oh, thanks.” He wipes it off and smiles at me. “My name’s Stefano. You’re welcome.”

“For… your name?”

“That and for saving your life.”

I take a deep breath and steady myself. I’m still in shock and not thinking clearly. “Right, yeah, thank you so much. I mean, that guy was going crazy.”

“What’d you do, anyway?”

“It was just a stupid accident. I knocked into him and made him drop some gambling money?—”

Stefano whistles, shaking his head. “Bet that pissed him off.”

“Then I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“Made it worse?”

“Exactly.”

“Then you ran, he chased, and it escalated.” Stefano runs a big hand through his dark hair, leaving a smear of blood like it’s no big deal. “We’ve all been there.”

I seriously doubt that, but don’t say it. “Thanks again. Honestly. I really think he was going to kill me.”

“Oh, definitely.” Stefano nudges unconscious Big Boss with his toe. “You should probably get out of here before he comes to.”

“What about you? Won’t you get in trouble?”

He shrugs slightly. “Probably. Not worried about it though.”

“I’m friends with the people who own this place. I can put in a good word for you. Make sure they know you helped me.”

His eyebrows raise. “If that’s true, then why was he chasing you?”

That’s a great question. Frustration swells in my chest. “He didn’t believe me either.”

“I appreciate your concern—” He turns his back on me. My mouth hangs open as I look at the sheer number of muscles. I didn’t even know a back could have that much definition. “But I’m really good. Just be more careful.”

He starts to walk away.

I watch him go, completely stunned. That’s everything?

He chokes a guy unconscious for me and just wanders off?

My adrenaline is still coursing through my veins, and I can’t stop staring at that massive, physically perfect specimen of a human male.

He’s an absolute Adonis, like a sculptor got high on meth and decided Greek gods weren’t hot enough and improved just about everything imaginable.

In all my years hanging around the fighting pits, I’ve never once wanted to approach one of the talent before.

I’ve also never been nearly stabbed to death by one of the pit bosses either.

“Wait a second!” I don’t know if it’s the fear or the excitement that makes me do it, but Stefano slows as I catch up with him. “I feel like I owe you something.”

He tilts his head and gives me a curious frown. “Why’s that?”

“You saved me. I just… I don’t want you to walk away without…” Without what? Fucking you senseless? A wild tingle spreads into my core at the thought. But no, that’s sheer insanity. Even for me. “Without buying you a drink at least.”

He considers me like he doesn’t actually think I’m serious. And honestly, I don’t know if I am either.

This man isn’t my type. He’s a fighter, for one.

Not to say that’s beneath me, but my parents and my grandfather would literally murder me if they found out I was consorting with the talent.

They’d scream bloody murder if I let one of our ring warriors taint their perfect bloodline.

But more than that, he’s got that murder-is-fun-actually kind of attitude, the sort of arrogance that comes from being big and dangerous, and that sort of swagger drives me crazy.

Like he’s better than other people just because he’s physically imposing?

But he did save my life.

And he is so hot it makes my mouth water.

“If you’re serious…” He says, speaking slowly. “We should probably go somewhere else.”

My eyebrows raise. I glance over my shoulder. Big Boss is beginning to stir.

“That’s probably a good idea. Meet me out front?”

He leans forward, voice softening. “You sure you haven’t made enough mistakes for one night?”

A shiver runs down my spine. His voice is low and melodic. Gorgeous, just like him. “I guess not.”

“I’ll grab my stuff and meet you out there.”

He walks off again. I don’t hang around. Big Boss is coming to, and I don’t want to be alone with that fucker a second time.

I hurry back down the hall and into the crowd just as the fight is coming to an end. A bloodied and battered bald man holds his naked, bruised fists in the air. He’s missing a tooth, the gap freshly bleeding. But at least he seems happy.

This is a terrible idea. It’s one thing to hang around the fights like this when I should be at home doing proper-rich-girl things like riding horses or shopping online.

But it’s another to spend intimate alone time with a man like Stefano.

I wait out front. Each second that ticks past is another second I could use to come back to my senses. He won’t be too upset if he comes out here and I’m not around, right?

But I don’t move. I just keep thinking about his big arms wrapped around Big Boss’s neck and that calm smile.

Beautiful and absolutely horrifying.

The warehouse seems dark and abandoned from the outside.

Cars are parked in the lot nearby, and security lurks in the shadows.

Nobody bothers me. I wait awkwardly, starting to wonder if Big Boss is going to find me alone out here and gut me despite everything, and I’m so on edge that I yelp when Stefano appears at my side.

“I know a place nearby,” he murmurs, looking at me sideways. “You good with that?”

“Better than hanging around here.”

“We’ll see.” He moves closer. His body’s overwhelming and warm. “What’s your name again?”

“Charlie.”

He considers me, his stare more than a little unnerving.

There’s nothing hesitant about this man.

It’s like he doesn’t care if I catch him looking me up and down, and he sure as hell isn’t shy about what he thinks.

He stares down at my body like he’s sizing me up, chewing on the edge of his lower lip, before nodding to himself.

Like he just judged me worthy. Which is both extremely insulting and weirdly arousing.

“Follow me.”

He strides off into the night.

“Shit,” I whisper, hesitating. Should I really follow the big, dangerous fighter into the unknown streets of deep South Philadelphia?

Apparently, yes. I hurry after him.