Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2)

by Melynda Price

  As Aiden pushed the button and the elevator doors slid closed, he forced aside all thoughts of his meeting with his mother, his issues with Ryann, and focused solely on preparing for his meeting with Vincent Moralli. He was a pro at blocking out shit—he’d been doing it all his life. Stepping into this elevator was the same as stepping into the octagon. Over the months, he’d honed the skill of becoming singularly focused on nothing but the opponent in front of him, and he’d be a fool if he didn’t count Moralli as his most dangerous one yet.

  In fact, he was safer in the cage than he was with this man. At least in the cage they had rules, and a ref and judges. When preparing for a fight, Aiden had the chance to study his opponent’s moves and learn his weaknesses. But walking into Moralli Enterprises after being out of this game for over a year, Aiden couldn’t shake the feeling he was about to be blindsided. He hadn’t been home for even an hour last night before he’d gotten the call from Frank Luciana, Moralli’s enforcer, requesting a meeting. He had no clue what this guy could possibly want, but whatever it was, Aiden was pretty sure it wasn’t to offer him his old job back. Were it not for settling up Ryann’s debt, he wouldn’t have agreed to come. Whatever this bastard wanted with him, it wasn’t good.

  The elevator chimed its destination and the doors slid open. Tension strung his muscles tight; restless energy hummed beneath his flesh with the familiar prickle of anticipation. He was ready to get this meeting over with and was anxious to see Ryann. As he stepped into the hallway and turned left, the industrial carpet absorbed the sound of his brisk, determined steps, though he had no doubt Moralli was aware of his presence the moment he set foot in the building.

  Aiden gave the receptionist a curt nod as he walked past, heading for Moralli’s office. “Mr. Kruze!” she cried, jumping up from her desk. “Wait!” She chased after him, shuffling on her high-heels. What did she think she could do to stop him? “You can’t just walk in th—”

  His hand was on the knob and he was halfway through the door when the woman finally caught up to him. Aiden had never treaded lightly around Moralli and he wasn’t about to start now. Vincent was sitting behind his desk. At the intrusion, his head snapped up and the scowl darkening his face eased ever so slightly when his eyes locked on Aiden.

  “It’s all right, Ms. Porter, Mr. Kruze has an appointment.” The woman faded into the background and Aiden closed the door behind him. Vincent’s gaze darted to the clock on the wall. “You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you for another twenty minutes.”

  Aiden shrugged. “My other meeting didn’t last as long as I was expecting.”

  “Please,” Vincent said, sweeping his hand toward the empty chair across his desk. “Have a seat.” The man’s grin was more a showing of his teeth than a smile. Zero warmth filled his eyes as he attempted to appear amiable, but Aiden knew him well enough to see through the false charm. “How are you?” The chair creaked as the man leaned back, stretching out behind his desk. He folded his hands in his lap, fingers steepled, as he waited for Aiden to answer.

  He fought the instinct to tense under the man’s watchful gaze. Guys like Moralli got off on power and intimidation, and Aiden refused to cow before anyone. Keeping his posture at ease, he returned the man’s assessing stare. The light gray suit matched the silver streaks in his dark brown hair. He’d lost weight in the past months, making his custom-fit Fioravanti not so custom anymore. He’d almost wondered if the man was ill, but the dangerous spark in those eyes hadn’t dimmed a bit.

  “I’ve been better,” Aiden told him in all honesty. If there was one thing the man detested, it was being lied to. He wasn’t here to make an enemy, he was here to settle Ryann’s debt and be on his way. Aiden reached into his pocket and pulled out a check, setting it on the desk and sliding it forward.

  The man’s brow rose curiously. “What is this?” he asked, unfolding his hands to pick up the check.

  “It’s Ryann Andrews’s debt. I’m paying it in full. In exchange, I want you to call off your dogs and leave her alone.”

  The smile that twisted the man’s mouth sent Aiden’s instincts firing, adrenaline flooding his veins.

  Taking great care, and with deliberate, purposeful movements, Vincent held up the check and slowly tore the paper in half. Placing the two pieces together, he ripped it again, and again, and again before letting the small squares flitter to his desktop like pieces of confetti.

  “You really have no idea, do you? For an honors Harvard Law grad, you sure are stupid.”

  Aiden’s jaw clenched with the effort to remain in his seat when every impulse inside him was clamoring to slam his fist into this bastard’s jaw. “Excuse me?”

  “What makes you think this is about her? That any of this was ever about her? I don’t give a fuck about seventy-five grand. I wipe my ass with seventy-five grand. Ryann is a pawn. Her dad was a pawn. Sure, the guy liked his booze and gambled a bit too much, but he was a good PI. Found a lot of people for me, and since you’re here now, it looks like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “How did you know she’d get me to come back?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t. But I’m a gambling man, and given the chance to tap that ass, there isn’t any place I wouldn’t follow that pussy. You and I, we’re not so different, Aiden.”

  Rage boiled up inside him. Was it true? Had Ryann been working for Moralli the whole time? Manipulating him, using him to get what she wanted? Fuck! The armrest creaked under the pressure of his tightening grip. Tension strung every muscle in his body ripcord tight, and he waged an inner battle to control the fury coursing through his veins. Never in his life had he wanted to wrap his hands around a man’s neck and squeeze the life out of him more than he did right now.

  “I don’t know what lies she’s told you, but this isn’t about her. It’s about you. I’ve been grooming you for this business for too fucking long to just let you walk away. I expect a return on my investment. If you thought it was going to be that easy to turn your back on the family, then someone obviously didn’t explain the rules to you very well.”

  “What do you want?” he growled.

  “What do I want?” he barked, the already loose rein on that notorious Moralli temper slipping. “Let’s start with what I did want, Aiden. I have no sons—just one willful, unappreciative daughter. But I loved you like a son, and you betrayed me.” He spread his arms wide. “All this could have been yours. But instead you turned your back on me. You refused my offer to join the family, and my bitch of a daughter has just signed the death warrant of my best fighter.

  “But fear not!” Vincent proclaimed, pointing to the ceiling as if stuck by a sudden epiphany. “I am a resourceful man. You have made quite a name for yourself in Vegas, my friend.”

  Tension rocketed through Aiden like a hurricane. Oh, hell no. He knew where this was going and planned to nip that idea before the seed could even begin to take root. “I’m not fighting for you,” Aiden interrupted. Sitting across from this man was like staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, waiting for him to pull the trigger.

  “Ryann’s in love with you. Did you know that? Yeah, I can tell by the look on your face this is news to you. Came as quite a shocker to me, too. Looks like my little pawn just became a whole lot more valuable.”

  And there it was—the metaphorical blast that deafened him, piercing his chest and tearing his heart to shreds. Fuck . . . Whether or not he spoke true, it didn’t matter. The pain tightening the invisible band around his chest, making it impossible to breathe, forced Aiden to admit his own feelings. He was in love with a woman who had quite possibly betrayed him to Moralli, and the sick fuck was watching his reaction with a predator’s glee.

  “You will fight for me and you will win. You don’t need me to tell you how much money is on the line with these fights—how much money I personally stand to lose if they don’t happen. You will take over Broden Hayes’s
fight roster.”

  This guy was out of his mind. “No fucking way. I’m not fighting for you.”

  The sadistic chuckle echoing in the room cemented Aiden with cold, hard dread. “I thought you might say that.” Vincent reached over, pressed the intercom button on his desk, and spoke into the small black box. “Bring her in.”

  A moment later the door flew open, and Ryann was thrust inside by a man easily twice her size. Aiden immediately recognized the bastard and muttered a foul oath under his breath—Frank Luciana—Vincent Moralli’s right-hand man. He was the puppet master who pulled the strings for Moralli, doing the bastard’s dirty work. If Moralli wanted someone dead, this was the guy who would see it done.

  “Watch it!” Ryann snapped, stumbling forward. She shot a scathing glare over her shoulder at Luciana, who looked wholly amused by her anger. The only thing keeping her upright as he dragged her farther into the room was his big, meaty hand clamped tightly around her bicep. She didn’t see Aiden standing across from Moralli, her fury focused solely on the bastard manhandling her.

  Rage detonated inside Aiden like an atomic bomb. “You motherfucker!” He exploded from his chair, launching himself across the desk.

  “Aiden!” Ryann cried, her bravado slipping, voice cracking with desperation.

  Papers scattered and the computer crashed to the floor, but before he could get his hands around that fucker’s throat, the distinct snick of a gun stopped Aiden dead, and Ryann’s startled yelp sent icy shards of fear lancing into his heart.

  “I don’t think you want to do this,” Vincent sneered with the calm of a man who held every fucking card in the deck. “Not unless you want your beautiful girlfriend’s brains splattered all over that wall.” He nodded to the left.

  “Let her go.” The feral snarl tearing from his throat made him sound more animal than man. His mind raced with options, his terror for Ryann threatening to paralyze him. He knew Moralli wouldn’t kill him—he needed him to fight—but Ryann was another story. She was Aiden’s weakness, and the bastard knew it. What had Ryann told him? His heart rioted in his chest, muscles straining with the instinct to protect what was his, even when the bitter sting of Ryann’s betrayal was like poison running through his veins.

  “I’ll let her go . . . once you sign this.” Vincent opened the top desk drawer and pulled out a stack of papers, slapping them onto the desk.

  “What is it?” he demanded, snatching up the document.

  “A contract. It basically says that I own you. You now fight for me.”

  The man was insane if he thought Aiden would ever work for him again—especially now. They both knew a contract signed under duress was worthless, but he also knew it was Moralli’s way of cowing him. The symbolism behind it was the same as forcing a submission in the cage. Moralli was making him tap. And if he didn’t, Ryann was going to pay the price. He didn’t have a choice but to do it, not when Luciana had a fucking gun pressed into Ryann’s temple. The only thing that mattered right now was Ryann and getting her the hell out of here. And if he had to sign a piece of paper to make that happen, then so be it. That bastard didn’t realize who he was fucking with, and in that moment, Aiden made a vow that if it was the last thing he ever did, he was taking Vincent Moralli down.

  “Give me a goddamn pen,” Aiden barked, holding out his hand.

  The triumphant grin on Vincent’s face would have made the Cheshire Cat jealous.

  As soon as the Bic found his hand, Aiden scribbled his signature on the back page and slapped the document into Moralli’s chest. The man caught it and nodded to Luciana to let Ryann go. The moment he released her arm, she ran toward Aiden and threw herself into his arms.

  “I’m so sorry! Aiden, I didn’t know . . .”

  Whether that was true or not, it hardly mattered now. And this wasn’t the place to discuss it. With a death glare shot over his shoulder at his new employer, he ushered Ryann toward the door. As they passed Frank, Aiden paused long enough to growl, “You touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

  When they reached the door, Vincent’s voice rang out loud and taunting. “And just so you know, your first fight is tomorrow night. If you don’t show for a fight, we will find Ryann and kill her. This is your only warning. Stop by my secretary’s desk on the way out. She has a copy of the contract and a fight schedule waiting for you. See you in the cage.”

  CHAPTER

  28

  Oh, God . . . oh, God . . . oh, God . . . she repeated the panicked plea over and over. Aiden must hate her . . . How could he not? Whether intentionally complicit or not, she’d done that devil’s bidding. It was her fault for bringing Aiden here, her fault he was being forced to fight for Moralli. She knew how bad it looked. There was no way she could ever convince him of her innocence now.

  Ryann sat in the passenger seat and tried not to throw up. In all the time she’d known Aiden, she’d never seen him look as murderous as he did right now. Silence was never so loud. She snuck a quick glance at him as he navigated the streets of Manhattan. She would have asked him where he was going but didn’t dare speak. He had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. His jaw was clenched so tight it made the little muscle in his cheek tick. Fine lines bracketed his mouth, and his lips were thin with barely suppressed rage. She desperately wished he would say something—anything. It was the silence that was killing her.

  Everything about this man screamed Do Not Touch! Yet all she wanted to do was throw herself in the shelter of his arms as she tried to block out the past eighteen hours.

  She’d been so sure she was going to die. If the head injury she’d gotten from the man called Frank didn’t kill her first, surely that massive brute still would have. Ryann had no way of knowing how long she’d been out. She’d woken in a modestly supplied bedroom with the door locked. Shortly after regaining consciousness, Vincent had arrived and begun questioning her about Aiden, and oddly about her father—where he’d kept his records and his client lists. None of which she knew the answer to. Her father had always kept his work confidential. And now she knew why.

  Her mind was still reeling. She couldn’t believe it . . . her father had been working for Vincent Moralli. Why? Why would he do something like that?

  Of course . . . the gambling debt. And now Moralli was using her father’s debt to manipulate her, too. Oh, my God . . . She realized with horrifying clarity that he never wanted the debt paid! He was just using the deadline as a bargaining chip. It was the only way she would have agreed to take Aiden’s case—and he knew it. Moralli was banking on her ability to convince Aiden to come back with her. Since the two men before her had tried and failed, he’d had to switch tactics.

  Oh, Lord, she was going to be sick. A wave of nausea surged up inside her, her stomach clenched, and the bitter sting of bile burned her throat. Moralli was right, she really was nothing but a pawn—a pawn to be used against Aiden.

  She wouldn’t blame Aiden if he never wanted to see her again, never wanted to speak to her again. The thought sent a sharp pang of regret piercing her heart, her breath catching in her throat. The sudden hitch of movement didn’t escape Aiden’s notice. His hard amber gaze briefly darted her way before returning to the road. “Are you all right?”

  No. No, she was not. Her head was killing her and the knot along her temple was throbbing in time with her heart, which happened to be shattering more and more with each passing minute that Aiden refused to speak to her.

  “I’m fine,” she lied, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself. She couldn’t possibly feel more horrible about what happened.

  The muscle in Aiden’s jaw ticked. She was coming to realize it was his tell for I’m about to lose my shit. He turned the full strength of that amber stare on her and she never wanted to be a shrinking violet more in her life. It was a good thing they’d hit the highway taking them toward Brooklyn and it was a light traffic day, because
that man’s attention was not on the road.

  “When are you going to start being honest with me, Ryann? For fuck’s sake, I see you’re not all right. I’m not all right. Nothing about this goddamn mess is all right!”

  She lifted her shaky hand to cover her mouth, holding back the sob that threatened to break free. “I’m sorry . . . You’re right. I’m so sorry, Aiden! I had no idea this was going to happen or I never would have brought you here, I swear. And I know how bad this looks. I wouldn’t believe me either, but I swear to God I didn’t know. I didn’t find out the truth until today!”

  “What truth is that? That your debt is unpayable? That your father worked for Moralli? Or that you work for the bastard, too? You’re a smart woman, Ryann. I find it hard to believe that you didn’t know this!”

  He’d never yelled at her before. Of all the things she’d done to him, all the lying, the manipulation, even drugging him, Aiden had never been this angry. “Just answer me this, was it the plan all along to get me to fall in love with you?”

  A broken sob escaped her throat at his question. It fractured her on so many levels, all she could do was force air in and out of her lungs. That he could believe she would be capable of such manipulation, such deceit, broke what was left of her heart. Telling her he loved her was a bittersweet confession that rendered her speechless. A small flicker of hope bloomed inside her, flickering like a candle trying to stay lit in the torrential storm of his rage.

  But he mistook her shocked silence for guilt and snarled, “You can’t even give me that, can you?”

  “No!” she cried. “You don’t understand, there was no plan! I wasn’t trying to manipulate you to love me. I had no idea you even felt that way until two seconds ago! And I don’t expect you to believe me, but I love you, too. I fell in love with you the night you took me out to dinner and let me see who you really are. I fell in love with you when you refused to sleep with me because you didn’t want me to think you were taking advantage of me. I fell in love with you when you held my head out of the toilet because I drank two bottles of wine. I love you so much and I’m terrified I’m going to lose you because I know how bad this looks!”