Page 42 of Ruthless Lord

Stefano

O ne Year Later

The crowd’s abuzz with excitement. The new light show Davide installed last month blazes lasers and colors across the ceiling.

It’s some professional shit and a little much, but it gets the crowd hyped.

Albert says betting income has increased six percent since we started using them.

I’ll trust the numbers. Even if I’m not a numbers guy.

I slowly pace around the periphery of the arena.

Most people don’t pay me any attention. I’m just an older man in a suit, limping a little bit, covered in facial scars and carrying an air of violence.

The staff of the warehouse all nod respectfully, and a few of the friendlier waitresses come up to say hello and see if I need anything.

The answer’s always the same: if I need something, I’ll get it myself, but thank you kindly for asking.

The lights above the ring suddenly snap on. White blazes across the canvas. The crowd erupts in ecstatic screaming as the first fighter is announced. Sterling Main marches down the aisle, his entourage in tow, the young man smirking and waving at the people howling his name.

A shadow appears at my elbow. He crosses his arms, watching as the second, much less popular fighter enters the ring. “Do you ever miss it?”

I glance over. Adriano Marino looks back, smirking slightly. “Not really.”

“Come on, seriously? Not even seeing all this?” He gestures around at the crowd. “You feel that energy, right?”

“I feel it every night. Gets stale.”

“You’re such a cynic.”

We lapse into silence. Adriano’s been coming to the fights more and more often since I took over. I think he feels comfortable here among the rich bastards baying for blood.

The two men circle each other. Sterling Main is clearly the crowd favorite, but I like the look of his opponent. He’s a scrappy fighter, not flashy, nothing special, but stocky and well-built, with plenty of wear and tear on those joints.

“Where’s your money?” Adriano asks, staring at the two men. They haven’t clashed yet, and the tension’s thick in the air.

“I don’t want to say.”

“Come on. You’ve got an opinion, don’t you? Everyone loves Sterling.”

“He’s alright.”

“He’s undefeated in fifteen fights. And half of those have been against some seriously good opponents.”

I grunt as the two men clash. Sterling moves like liquid fire and hits like a freight train. He’s got the instincts of a killer and the reaction times of an F1 driver. The man flows around the ring like water.

He’s good. Really good. I can’t deny it, as much as I’d like to. Sterling takes some good punches and is even close to falling for a submission hold, but he eventually lands a nasty right hook and follows it with a jaw-shattering elbow.

The fight ends with blood and broken bones. Like all of Sterling’s fights do.

“Looks like we have our answer.” I nod at Adriano as I push off the wall. “Good to see you here, boss.”

“Before you go, one more question.” Adriano’s got a sly smile now. “Think you could take him?”

My eyebrows raise. “Sterling?”

“Come on, think you could handle him right now?”

I hesitate, looking over my shoulder. Sterling’s grinning viciously. His showy smirk’s gone, replaced by the wild-eyed stare of a true killer.

“Maybe, maybe not, but I’ll say this. I’m smart enough that I’ll never find out.”

Adriano laughs as I walk off. I give him a respectful nod and wave before disappearing back into my office.

It’s like coming up for air after being submerged for an hour. I feel myself relax as my wife picks her head up from where she’s doing some paperwork. Her eyes light up, and she leans back in my chair, kicking her feet up on the desk.

“Did he win?”

I shut the door behind me. “Sixteen unbeaten now.”

She whistles. “Getting close to your record.”

“I don’t want to talk about that. Adriano already tried to get me to admit that I could beat him.”

“Come on, you know you can, right? Sterling’s good, but you—” Her eyes glaze over, and she sighs. “Maybe I’m biased, but you were a god.”

A god of death and thunder. She’s damn right.

But these days, I’m a businessman and a husband.

“Doesn’t matter anymore.” I walk around the desk and bend down to kiss her. “I’m retired.”

“You’re not that old.”

“Compared to the fighters these days? I’m damn ancient.”

“That’s a good point. I did hear your knees crack like bubble wrap when you walked over here.”

“You’re brutal.”

“You love it.”

I kiss her again before slumping down into a chair in front of the desk with a grunt. I rub my back and try not to think about all my aches and pains. Even a year off from fighting hasn’t healed it all. I doubt it’ll ever fully go away.

But it doesn’t bother me much these days.

I’ve got the warehouse to think about. Ever since Charlie’s dad fully took over the Westbrook properties, we’ve been managing this place.

Part of the funds get funneled to the Marino Famiglia as a respectful gesture, part ends up in Charlie’s trust, and the rest is funneled into operations.

The Westbrooks get a little piece, but not as much as they used to.

Turns out, her dad doesn’t much care for the illicit stuff. Which surprised me when he said it.

“We’ve got to talk to Davide about toning down the light show,” I say, stretching my legs.

“Albert told you revenue’s up, right?”

“I know that, but still. It’s a damn underground fighting ring. Not a fucking U2 concert.”

She snorts a laugh. “God, you’re so old. Even your references are out of date.”

“Sorry, Taylor Swift. Whoever that is.”

“Unreal.”

“Quit messing with me and say you’re on board.”

“Stefano, this place is yours. You want the lights turned off? You can turn them off.”

“I know that. But you’re my partner.”

“I’m here to help, but the warehouse is yours.” She gets up and comes around the desk before plopping down in my lap. She leans down and lightly kisses me. “You like it, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Not boring? Like the depot?”

“Better than the depot.” I smile slightly. “Occasionally, I get to crack skulls. I like that.”

She rolls her eyes. “I forgot you play bouncer.”

“Just when it suits me.”

“It always does.” She runs her fingers through my hair. I hold on to her like that and don’t mention why this place is actually better. It’s not because of the fighters or the excitement. It isn’t the cracked skulls, although that’s nice too. It’s not the money, the power, or the prestige.

It’s her. It’s always her these days.

I wake up and Charlie’s there. We visit our warehouse properties together. We eat, sleep, fuck, and laugh.

I’ve been looking for meaning all my life. I thought I found it in the ring.

I was so fucking wrong.

“What if we took off tonight?” I pull her close and stoop to kiss her. “The place runs itself at this point.”

“I’m not against it.” She doesn’t look at me though and squirms slightly. “But I feel like I should tell you something first.”

“Anything important?”

“Oh, you know, just a little life-altering news.” She slips out of my lap and kneels in front of me. I stare into my wife’s eyes as she takes my hand between hers. “Remember that sex we’ve been having?”

“I’m dimly aware of something like that.”

“Well, we haven’t been careful, and guess what?”

My mouth goes dry. I try to make a sound, but nothing comes out. She smiles sheepishly at me.

“I’m pregnant.”

Fuck. Holy fuck.

I don’t say a word.

I only wrap her in my arms and pull her into a tight hug, kissing her over and over again, breathing her in and holding her. She laughs and wriggles against me.

“God, calm down, you’re going to break my back.”

I release her suddenly. “Shit. The baby.”

“The baby’s the size of an edamame. Or something, I don’t know. The baby can survive some squeezing.”

“Good.” I grab her and pull her against me. This time, I kiss her hard and hold it there. “I’m going to be an old dad.”

“You don’t have to quantify it with alright, you know.”

“But I will be.”

“Does that bother you?”

I shake my head slowly. “Not even a little.”

“Are you happy? I honestly can’t tell.”

“I’m very, very happy.”

“How happy?”

“So happy I’m going to buy you a pony.”

She makes a face. “God, please don’t. I hate horses.”

“Then I’m going to burn a barn full of ponies to the ground.”

“Stefano! I don’t hate them that much.”

“Make up your mind.”

She laughs and kisses me. We stay like that in my office for a while, and I was thinking we couldn’t find a way to make this marriage any better, except now we did. And that’s pretty fucking great.