Page 43

YULIAN

The kid’s footwork is all wrong. Too much weight on his front leg. I see the opening before he even finishes his swing.

I sidestep. He stumbles forward, making himself the perfect target.

It’d be rude not to take him up on the invitation.

With a vicious crunch, my fist finds his gut. Not full strength—I don’t want to break him. Just enough to teach him what happens when hard knuckles meet soft insides.

Air rushes out of his lungs in a sharp, panicked wheeze. His eyes go wide, pupils shrinking to pinpricks. He staggers, tries to stay upright, fights the pain and the nausea and the gravity?—

And then he folds, dropping to his knees.

I give him a second. Then: “Up.”

The recruit looks up, face twisted in humiliation. He knows the others are watching. Knows he just got put down like a fucking amateur. It’s the point of these sparring sessions: teaching these wet-behind-the-ear kiddos what it’s like to fight against a man. To fight like a man.

Shame is a damn good motivator for that.

I hold out a hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he takes it, letting me haul him up. “You’ve got good instincts.” I nod at his stance, taking in the distance between his feet, the symmetry with his shoulders. It tells me it’s not his first fight.

Not his first loss, though, either.

“Watch your left flank,” I order him. “It’s wide open.”

His eyes flicker with understanding. “Thank you, sir.”

Sir. Good boy. He’ll make it.

I step back, rolling my shoulders, wiping sweat from my brow. The Goldenrod’s ring smells like stale blood and adrenaline. No underground fights yet—it’s too early for that—but my recruits are training, running drills. I need them sharp. Ready.

Maksim is leaning against the ropes, arms crossed. “You’re going to break them before they even see a real fight.”

I grab a towel from the corner and wipe the sweat off my face. “The enemy won’t go easy. Neither will I.”

“Guns settle most fights these days.”

“They do until they don’t.” I toss the towel aside, grabbing my bottle of water instead. “If they can’t handle themselves, they’ll die.”

Maksim doesn’t argue. He knows I’m right. “You’re actually a big, hunky care-bear underneath all that muscle, aren’t ya?”

“Say that again if you want to be next.”

He barks out a laugh. “No, sir. This suit’s brand new. Wouldn’t want to mess it up before I’ve had a chance to use it.”

“You’re using it now.”

“For an audience of men. ” He grimaces, wrinkles his nose at the ripe smell of recruit musk. “Not exactly the target demographic I had in mind when I bought it.”

I don’t quite roll my eyes, but it’s a close thing. “I take it things are going well with Cammie.”

“Kallie.” He gives a soft, forlorn sigh like a teenager in love. “Or, as her tasteful parents named her, Kalinda .”

I shake my head. Maksim’s annoying on most days, but when he’s got a special lady in his life? Absolutely fucking unbearable. “Thought you said you were too old for her.”

“I am.”

“Then what’s the suit for?”

“Dinner.” He shrugs. “Entertainment. Flirting. Smelling that sweet coconut oil scent.”

“So you’re going to wine and dine her, but not fuck her?”

“You’re so uncouth.” He checks the wrapping on my hands, makes sure it’s still nice and tight. “Ever thought about gargling with soap?”

“You’re changing the subject.” I stretch my arms, then my torso. My back gives a satisfying pop. Nothing clears my head like fighting, even if it’s in the junior leagues. “According to you, that’s my job.”

“Which reminds me.” Maks’s eyes light up. “I haven’t seen Mia around lately. Finally came to your senses and tore up that contract?”

“No.”

“Then I’d say she’s skimming from the register.”

My fists clench. I don’t appreciate Maksim’s tone one fucking bit. “Shut up.”

“Hey, just trying to get some clarity here.” He cranes his neck and searches my gaze. “Is she fired? Is she not? Is she the fake next Mrs. Lozhkin or the real one?”

I tune out Maks’s questions. He doesn’t call the shots— I do.

But his words stick in my brain nonetheless.

Mia. For a month, I’ve been ghosting her. Cold. Clinical. Careless.

Except I’m anything but.

Because Mia Winters has crawled deeper than my skin. She’s in my head, in my brain. In that ugly crevice at the center of my chest I’d long thought empty.

She’s everywhere.

And yet, she’s not here.

For good fucking reason.

That night at her apartment, and then that day at the cemetery—they’ve left me with nothing but questions. Haunting, relentless questions, ones I cannot answer without raising many more.

What is Mia to me? What am I going to do about my plan? Am I going to avenge my family, or am I going to protect hers?

Am I going to lose her to a bullet or to the truth?

“Boss,” a recruit calls from the benches. “Your phone.”

“Ignore it,” I bark. Another fresh face is already stepping into the ring, ready to let me vent my frustration on his lousy footwork.

But Maksim clears his throat. “Yul? I think you’re gonna wanna take this.”

There’s an edge to his tone that I don’t like. Knowing. Urgent.

Irritated, I grab the phone.

And then I see who it is.

A bad feeling creeps up my spine. Horrible, sinking.

Without wasting one more second, I answer. “Mia?”

A gasping breath comes from the other end of the line. A ragged, sharp intake of air. Like she’s fucking drowning.

Dread fills me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I hate the way my voice strains at the end. Less anger, more fear. An emotion I can’t afford.

“Mia. Answer me.”

Finally, a whisper. “He was here,” she croaks. “At the hospital.”

It’s all I need to hear.

My vision swims with red. My fists clench so hard I could snap my own bones. My pulse thunders, fury mounting hot and bright, the kind that won’t be satisfied with a measly pound of flesh.

Bradley Baldwin is a fucking dead man.

“Stay where you are,” I bark.

Maksim flanks me as I jump down from the ring. “I take it I’m bringing the car around?”

I don’t answer. He doesn’t need me to.

My thoughts are a mangled mess. Nothing like the cold lucidity of the pakhan I should be.

I told myself I didn’t care about this woman, that I could use her as a human shield and feel nothing.

That I could dangle her in front of my enemies and not give a shit if they managed to sink their teeth into her.

All lies.

Mia’s in danger, my instincts are screaming, raw, animal . She’s hurt. She’s scared.

She needs me.

Before my heartbeat evens, I’m out the fucking door.