Page 48 of Sweetest Sin (Tempting Love #1)

Peyton

“Wow! This place is insane.”

“Welcome to The Underground,” Dominick says as he guides me through the crowd of people who are all drinking and smoking and …

“Are they placing bets?”

Dominick chuckles. “Hundreds of thousands of dollars get exchanged during the fights down here. When my brother fights, it can get into the millions.”

“But he’s undefeated,” I say as we step into the VIP area, where we’ll be watching the fight. “Why would anyone bet against him?”

According to Dominick, the warehouse where the fight is taking place is owned by the Antonovs.

When the last place got shut down, Matteo asked if he could set up a cage here, and Dominick agreed.

They host several fights a month, and I was shocked when Dominick told me how much they bring in from the admission alone.

The Antonov brothers are clearly smart businessmen, and I told Dominick that I would love to one day learn all about his business ventures. There’s a reason why their company made several Forbes lists this year.

When I moved in with him, I thought I would be in the middle of a Mafia romance novel, but I quickly learned that the days of Al Capone are no longer, and while they deal with territories and have plenty of illegal businesses, their legitimate businesses overpower the others.

“All businesses are corrupt,” Dominick pointed out one night when we were talking. “Some are just more willing to get dirty to get what they want.”

“They bet against him, anticipating that this will be the time he gets knocked down,” Dominick says when we have a seat on the black leather couch. “People thrive on jealousy. For every person who loves my brother and hopes he wins, there are two hoping he doesn’t.”

“That’s mean,” I say, and Dominick chuckles.

“That’s life.” He presses his palm to my cheek. “The higher up you get, the more people want to see you fall.”

He places a soft kiss on my lips, and I wish we were somewhere private instead of here. From the moment Dominick and I reconnected, I haven’t been able to get enough of him.

Since we returned from our family trip, we’ve settled into a routine of sorts.

We have breakfast together, one of us drops Damien off at school, we go to work—where I love learning about everything that is involved in the hotel industry—we have dinner as a family and spend time with Damien until bed, and then we spend the rest of the night lost in each other.

Sometimes, life feels so perfect that I can’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop.

“Not here,” he murmurs against my lips when he notices me squirming in my seat. “I don’t share, and not a single person in this place deserves to see an ounce of your pleasure.”

Where we’re sitting is roped off, but we’re close enough to everyone else to see and hear everyone talking and placing bets. We’re surrounded by several of Dominick’s guards, so although people can see us, nobody can get near us.

There are metal detectors at the door, and bouncers check everyone as they come in to ensure nothing goes down.

“Wow, this place is insane!” Brielle says, forcing Dominick and me apart. “About time I get to watch Matteo in action.”

“You’ve never been?” I ask her.

“Nope, I was too young and innocent.” She glares at Dominick. “They’d never let me go anywhere or do anything.”

“It was for your own protection,” Dominick notes.

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “I can’t wait to see Matteo kick some ass.”

“Both Irvin and Matteo are undefeated,” Dominick says. “It’s going to be a damn good fight.”

“And who are you betting on?” I jokingly ask.

“I have a hundred K on Matteo,” Lorenzo says, walking over with his arm hooked around a beautiful woman’s neck.

He reaches over to Dominick, and they do that weird handshake-with-a-bro-hug thing guys do. Then, he introduces us to …

“This is my fiancée, Hillary,” Lorenzo says, smiling adoringly at the woman, who smiles and shows off her ring. “I proposed last night, and she said yes.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her, standing and giving her a hug. “I’m Peyton, and this is my fiancé, Dominick.”

Dominick gives her a slight nod with no smile, and I glare at him to be polite. Both he and Matteo have mentioned they’re not fans of Lorenzo’s girlfriend—who is apparently now his fiancée—but she seems nice enough.

We’ve only just sat back down when Hillary says, “So, Dominick, Lorenzo tells me that you’re partnering on the waterfront expansion in South Harbor Point. That’s exciting.”

“I’m here to watch my brother fight,” Dominick says tersely, “not be interviewed.”

When I glance at him in confusion, he says, “Hillary used to be a reporter.”

My eyes widen at that tidbit of information because why in the world would Lorenzo be dating a reporter of all people when they have so much to hide?

“I’m retired,” she says with a forced smile.

“Oh, what do you do now?” I ask politely, refraining from asking how a woman who looks to be in her twenties can already be retired.

“I’m in between jobs. I moved here from Georgia?—”

“Really?” Dominick asks, cutting her off. “I could’ve sworn you were from Coral Bay, and I don’t believe getting fired for not showing up to work is the equivalent of retiring. But I could be wrong.”

“Oh! I’m from Coral Bay,” I tell her, trying to ignore Dominick’s rudeness. “New Town. How about you?”

She swallows thickly, her eyes darting between Dominick and me, and there’s clearly something off with her, but Lorenzo obviously cares about her, so I’m not about to ostracize her, like Dominick is doing.

“Yes,” she says slowly. “I moved from Georgia to Coral Bay for a job, but the producers and I didn’t see eye to eye, so they let me go before I could quit. And now, I’m trying to figure out what I should do next.”

“I totally get that,” I tell her. “Any ideas on what your next move will be?”

“Based on the size of that ring, I’m thinking trophy wife,” Brielle deadpans.

“Bri!” I hiss, wondering what the hell is wrong with her and her brothers.

Dominick snorts out a laugh, and Brielle shrugs.

“Stop your shit,” Lorenzo says, glaring at Brielle.

“Nobody has said a word about you being home for weeks now and doing nothing with your life, so don’t judge others.

” He protectively wraps his arm around his fiancée, who I notice flinches but quickly schools her features.

“Hillary is working as my assistant while she figures things out, and she’s doing a damn good job. ”

Brielle shoots daggers at Lorenzo, but thankfully, the music gets louder, and the lights lower slightly, indicating the start of the fight. Usually, on televised fights, there are several smaller fights leading up to the main event, but apparently, here, there’s only one fight.

Since we’re above the people on the ground level, we can see without standing, but that doesn’t stop me from getting up and walking toward the front so I can get a better view of Matteo fighting.

It’s been years since I’ve watched a fight—since my parents were still together—and as he gets announced and walks out with the music pumping and his entourage flanking him, I can’t help the way my heart pounds in my chest. I know Matteo isn’t my dad.

He would never hurt anyone he claims to love.

But that doesn’t stop my brain from connecting the two.

I wanted to be here to support Matteo, but now, I’m wondering if that was a mistake.

Thankfully, Dominick comes up behind me and encircles his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“So, how much did you bet?” I ask, watching as the other guy comes out and gets booed.

“I don’t bet,” he says. “I hate him fighting, but it’s what he feels he needs to do to exorcise whatever demons he has, so I support him.”

“You’re a good brother,” I tell him, reaching up and kissing the corner of his jaw.

The fight begins, and the guys circle each other for a few seconds before Irvin takes his first swing, missing Matteo’s face by an inch.

Matteo retaliates by rushing Irvin and lands a few strategic hits.

The fight goes on for several minutes, and when I ask Dominick how long each round is, he tells me that there are no rounds.

They fight until one can’t fight anymore.

They’re both evenly matched, their punches and kicks landing, and when Matteo stumbles back, I worry Irvin is going to get the upper hand.

But then it’s as if Matteo gets a second wind because he comes back harder, faster, more determined.

Every punch is delivered in rapid-fire, and before we know it, Irvin is knocked out cold, and the ring announcer is congratulating Matteo on his win.

The crowd goes crazy, and I’m about to ask Dominick if we can go down and see Matteo when an alarm sounds, making me jump.

“Fire alarm,” Dominick says as everyone starts to push their way out of the warehouse. “Stay with me.”

He threads his fingers through mine, and I follow him out of the VIP area.

At first, I assume someone’s pulling a prank, but when the smoke starts to filter in, obscuring our vision, I know it’s not a mistake. Someone set the warehouse on fire.

Dominick, Lorenzo, and the guards get us out through a back exit. When the door opens and I suck in a breath of fresh air, I realize how bad the smoke was in there.

“Where’s Matteo?” I ask as Dominick flits between making calls and barking orders and texting.

“He can handle himself,” Lorenzo says.

“Fuck! The warehouse at the port is on fire as well,” Dominick hisses, glancing at Lorenzo. “Lorenzo, you drove here?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Daniil, I need you to take the women home.” He looks at Hillary. “Her too. I want the house on lockdown. I’ve already told Ricky to stay with Damien.”

Daniil nods, and then we’re rushed into the town car without Dominick. I want to tell him I love him, to stay safe, but it all happens too quickly, and before I can get a word out, we’re being whisked away.

The ride home is filled with tension. I wish I could be with Dominick, but I know I would only be a distraction. He’d be too worried about keeping me safe, and he wouldn’t be able to focus on dealing with whatever was going down.

The second we arrive at the house and step inside, I know something is off. I can feel it. For one, the house alarm didn’t go off, and it’s pitch-black, like the electricity is out.

Brielle must feel it, too, because she pauses at the doorway and glances at Hillary and me, putting her finger to her lips for us to remain quiet.

And then I hear it.

Damien’s cries.

Without thinking, I gasp loudly and take off toward the stairs.

Only Brielle stops me and shakes her head. “Whoever is up there is armed.”

My heart pounds in my chest.

This can’t be happening again.

Someone has my baby.

Daniil is outside.

Ricky should be protecting him. Where is he?

Brielle walks quietly over to Dominick’s office, and I follow while Hillary stays frozen in her spot near the door.

“Here,” Brielle says, handing me a gun. “It’s loaded. Don’t shoot unless you need to. We don’t want to risk hitting Damien.”

I nod in understanding and then follow her upstairs, gasping in fear and heartbreak when we find a body lying on the floor, bleeding out.

Ricky.

Whoever is in here shot and killed him.

“Enough,” a man says, forcing me to look away from Ricky to see where the voice is coming from.

I hear Damien’s muffled cries, telling me whoever has him has covered his mouth.

His room is empty, so Brielle and I follow the sounds that lead to the other wing of the house.

There are two sets of stairs—one that stems from the living room and the other that leads toward the back of the house.

If you’re planning to go to the backyard or pool, you can take the back stairs instead.

We both must realize this is what whoever took him is doing because we pick up our speed, racing down the steps. I can hear whoever has my son descending, his footsteps loud against the marble.

And then we see him. A man I don’t recognize is holding my son in his arms.

He reaches for the back door when Brielle yells, “Stop!”

I’m not sure why she made our presence known, but when the guy stops, I’m assuming it was just for that. To catch him off guard. He turns around, not even bothering to hide who he is, but I don’t know him.

“Anthony,” Brielle hisses, and my heart drops to my stomach.

It’s the asshole who raped her, who broke into my apartment and tried to steal my son.

And he’s come back, determined to succeed.

“Take one more move, and I’ll blow his brains out,” Anthony says, pointing the barrel of a gun at my son’s temple.

I whimper at the thought of him ending my baby boy’s life.

Anthony glances at me. “Let Dominick know that it’s not personal,” he says with a smirk. “It’s just business.”

“You don’t want him,” Brielle says, her voice calm and confident. “You want me. I’m the one you wanted to marry. Give him back to his mother and take me.”

I’m petrified of what’s happening in front of me, but the fact that she’s willing to take my son’s place warms my heart.

I hold my breath, praying Anthony will agree, but instead, he laughs.

Fucking laughs.

“You?” He scoffs. “I don’t want you. You’re damaged goods, bitch. You were supposed to be mine. That baby was supposed to be mine. But your family took everything away from me. And now, I’m going to do the same to you.”

He points his gun at Brielle, and I scream in panic. Everything happens quickly. Damien wiggles out of Anthony’s hold and darts toward me at the same time a gun goes off.

Anthony flies backward, his body hitting the back door and then sliding down and slumping against the floor.

I pull Damien into my arms and hold him close, trying to protect him in case anyone shoots at us.

“Fuck you!” Brielle yells, making me look up.

She’s standing over Anthony, and I realize when Damien got away, she shot Anthony before he could shoot her.

“I hope you rot in hell,” she says, kneeling in front of him with her gun still pointed at him even though it’s clear he’s no longer a threat.

Anthony chuckles. “You think you’ve won,” he chokes out, his breathing labored as he slowly dies. “You have no idea what you’re in for.” He laughs again, only it’s garbled this time.

And then he goes silent, his threat hanging in the air.