by Shanna Bell
Gina rubbed her arms as if she was cold. The night was a bit nippy, but Mary had a feeling it was more than that.
“You look tired,” she said carefully. Gina didn’t do well with anyone making remarks on her looks.
“I am tired,” Gina admitted, to her surprise. She leaned back against a Suburban and let out a deep sigh. Her Jimmy Choo clad foot was jittery. “I can’t believe my life has turned into this nightmare.”
“Nightmare?” Her sister had a flair for drama when things didn’t go her way. A nightmare in her world could also mean that she didn’t get to purchase a handbag that was ‘to die for.’
“I’m broke, Mary. I have nothing. Every last dime I had, I’ve spent on chasing a duke.”
“Chasing a duke?” It sounded like the title of a Regency novel.
“Andrew. I told you about him.” Her sister sounded miffed.
“The British guy.”
“British royalty,” Gina clarified. “He’s thirty-fourth in line for the British throne. I’ve spent the last of my trust fund on looking like everything he wanted in a wife. Then what happens? His mother finds him a nice British wife with blue blood.”
Now, this does sound like the plot of a Regency novel.
You better keep that tidbit to yourself.
Agreed.
What do you know? Her inner snark actually agreed with her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I need more money.”
Of course she did. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“You don’t understand. I need it now. Today. Like, yesterday.” There was a strain in her voice.
“Gina, what’s going on?”
“Don’t give me that look. You have no idea what I’ve been through. I wasn’t as lucky as you to land myself a millionaire.”
She wasn’t even going to go into that. “How much do you need?”
“A hundred thousand.”
“What?!” She didn’t know what amazed her more; the casual way Gina summed the amount or, well, the amount itself.
“Don’t pretend like that’s a lot. It’s pocket change to a man like Hector.”
“Yeah, to him, maybe, but you’re my sister. I’m not going to ask him for a hundred thousand dollars, so you can buy a new wardrobe.” Sometimes her sister even baffled her.
“He’ll give it to you. You will make him give it to you, right? Please?”
There it was again, that desperate look in her sister’s eyes. A look that made her stomach ache. “Gina. Tell me you just want to buy new clothes, and it’s not for something else.”
“Of course it’s for clothes, what else?” Gina sneered, her eyes darting into the dark night. “And maybe for a few hotel arrangements here and there. It’s just that I needed some money, stat, and after the last time, when you couldn’t give it to me fast enough, I had to borrow from some people.”
An icy feeling seeped into her stomach. “What kind of people?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just get me the money.”
“What kind of people, Gina?”
When a man emerged from the shadows, her question was answered.
“Gina Rossi.” The guy spat out her name, rounding up on her. Underneath the fluorescent light bulb, his bald head almost glowed. “You gonna pay me now, pretty butterfly?”
Her sister stared at him, looking frozen. “I… I don’t have the money.” Her eyes went to Mary. “But her husband does.”
Mary’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe Gina threw Hector under the bus like that.
“That true, dollface?” The guy came up to her, his cigarette scent wafting over her. “You got a man who can pay for you?”
“I…”
She tried to step back and bumped into a chest.
“Doesn’t matter,” the second guy from behind her said. “You’re gonna pay in flesh or blood, sweetheart. Either way, you’re going to pay.”
“Hector Diaz.” Gina practically shouted the name. “He’s my brother-in-law. He has his own security firm. Just call him, and he will pay you. Please, just don’t hurt us. If you touch his wife, he isn’t going to be happy.”
The thug looked at Mary. “Hector fucking ‘The Beast’ Diaz? You’re married to him?”
The guy behind her chuckled and pointed a gun at her. “Things just got more interesting. Call him. Now.”
When she didn’t move fast enough, he slapped her across the face.
“No!” Gina screamed, looking frantic.
“You make another sound and I’m gonna break your neck.”
Mary’s cheek burned, and she tasted blood. Not wanting the asshole to hurt her sister, she did as he asked.
Hector sounded worried when he answered. “Where are you, Mary? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Hector, I—” Before she could say another word, the phone was snatched from her hand.
“Hello, Mr. Diaz. It seems as if I have something that belongs to you. Now, this is what’s going to happen.”
CHAPTER 25
HECTOR
Hector stared at his phone, his vision going red for a sec.
They had his wife. Some motherfucker had put his hands on Mary, and was now demanding money. While he was preventing Kristoff from committing murder, some sick—soon to be dead—fuck had taken Mary.
He had an hour to find a hundred thousand dollars. On a Friday night, when banks were closed.
’Fucking shit!” He kicked a chair, breaking it.
Kristoff looked up and put his hammer down. A hammer that had just smashed every bone in the hand of the guy who had touched Katya. Hector felt like jamming the hammer in his own head. He should have never left Mary out of his sight.
He had to get out of here. He had to get to her.
“Who was that on the phone?” Kristoff asked.
Hector rounded on him. “A motherfucker with a death wish. Someone snatched my wife while I was stuck here with you.”
“Someone took Mary?”
He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. He needed to think. He couldn’t let emotion cloud his judgment. A mission. Yeah, he was going to treat this like a mission. First; recon. He needed to know who he was up against.
“Tell me who has her.”
Kristoff again.
Hector wanted to tell him to fuck off, that he’d done enough, when he realized his anger was aimed at the wrong person.
“I don’t know. He didn’t give me his name. Just told me to get him a hundred grand within an hour if I want to see her again.” He didn’t want to think about the threat the fucker had made about carving up her face.
Focus, Diaz, focus.
Kristoff barked something, and Angel left the room.
“It seems like an odd number,” he said. “You’re worth far more than a hundred grand.”
He was right, of course. If someone would take his wife for ransom, they would ask a lot more.
The next moment, Tommie was ushered into the room, Angel following him on his six.
The kid looked extremely relieved when he spotted Hector. “You know, you could have just texted me, instead of sending this guy.” He pointedly looked at Angel. “For a second, I had this Goodfellas moment, picturing myself getting beaten up in a back room by mobsters.”
Any other time, Hector would have appreciated his brazen talk, but not now. “Someone has Mary. I need you to tell me if anyone has approached her at your table.”
“Mary’s gone? When did that happen? She just left a few minutes ago with Gina.”
Fucking Gina Rossi. He should’ve known she had something to do with this. Bad luck followed her around like a dark cloud.
“I watched the footage from the parking lot,” Angel said, looking up from behind his laptop. “It shows Mary and another woman getting pushed into a van by two men. One of them is Micky, from Brian’s crew.”
Kristoff pulled out his phone and walked away.
“Who is this Brian?” Hector wanted to know.
&nbs
p; “Irish Brian. He’s into gambling and underground fights. He usually doesn’t get in Kristoff’s way. He is said to be fair but out for blood when someone crosses him. Very Old Testament kind of guy. You take money from him and don’t pay him back in time, he’s not gonna charge you an interest rate. He takes the interest back in blood or sweat. It’s his trademark.”
Hector didn’t like the sound of that. “Meaning?”
“Meaning men usually pay him back by fighting in a cage; women, by working on their back.”
If this Brian character landed one hand on his woman, Hector would paint the streets with his blood.
Kristoff returned, an annoyed look on his face. “I’ve spoken to Brian. It seems that your sister-in-law has said that you would pay her debt. Mary was just taken with, since she refused to leave her sister. You have to control your woman. She can’t willingly let herself get kidnapped. It’s bad for my reputation.”
“They better not have touched her.”
A chill crept into Kristoff’s eyes. “Mary has declared herself my sister-in-law. I told Brian who she is. No one touches my family.”
Hector bit back a crude remark.
Not the time, Diaz. So not the time.
***
Walking into Irish Brian’s place of business was like walking back down memory lane. It had been over a decade since he’d had his last underground fight. Back then, fights were arranged close to abandoned subways and in back alleys. Nowadays, apparently, bare-knuckle fights had moved to a silo at the docks. It was one of the last buildings, more secluded, so the row of cars didn’t draw much attention.
Kristoff had insisted on going with, and Hector didn’t object, as he could be useful in the parley. Also, Kristoff had provided him with a suitcase filled with cash. Guess being a crime boss had its perks, such as having a hundred thousand dollars laying around.
The twins were another matter. Then again, he knew they wouldn’t let Kristoff walk into the den of this Brian guy by himself. Or maybe they just came along to watch the fights; who knew why those crazy fuckers did anything.
Brian’s place was packed. There was a big, octagon cage in the middle of the room, placed MMA-style.
As they walked past the rows of cheering and screaming people, some waving with pieces of paper in their hands, he remembered the old days.
There was a certain appeal to people chanting your name. It had made him feel invincible, but more so, it had felt as if he mattered. He knew though, that the same people who cheered him on while he was a champion, would turn their backs on him the second he lost. Street fighting had been more of a way to let off steam, a way to control his rage since he’d been so angry all the time.
He tried to put all that behind him as they walked toward a door in the back. Two men were guarding it. Hired muscle, hands crossed before them, close to their piece.
When they saw Kristoff, one of them opened the door and went inside. The other one remained standing, looking nervous.
“Mr. Romanov,” he greeted him.
Angel tsked. “Now you’ve done it. Kristoff hates to be called that.” He looked at the hater in question. “Can I introduce him to Ally?”
The guy’s hand went to his gun. “Ally?”
Hector could see the sweat form on his brow.
“My alligator.”
“Our alligator,” Damon corrected him. “I hate how you always introduce him as yours.”
“I’m sorry, bro, did I step on your sensitive toes? Did our mother not give you enough love, so you feel lost when I leave you out of our pet’s life?”
“Jesus, fuck.” Hector shook his head. How the hell had his evening go down the crapper like this?
“Boys.” Kristoff’s order couldn’t be missed.
Angel and Damon immediately looked contrite, though Hector didn’t miss the spark in their eyes.
All of it is just a damn joke to them.
He was tempted to bash in their skulls with the suitcase when the door opened.
“Brian can see you now.”
Hector surged passed the guard. He came to a halt when he saw his wife in the corner.
“Hector!” Mary jumped from her seat and ran up to him.
His arms opened of their own accord. Only when she was in his embrace could he breathe again. He cupped her cheek and noticed the trail of blood on the corner of her lip. It was like hellhounds ripped open his chest.
He tucked her behind him and looked at the men sitting at a table in the corner. He didn’t have to ask which one was Brian; the guy wasn’t the biggest of the trio, but he did have the most calculating eyes. Two men sat next to him; one ripped, bald guy wearing a tracksuit, the other, a short version of Baldy.
Gina was huddled against the radiator, looking scared out of her mind. He dismissed her pleading look.
“Who hit my woman?”
When Shorty’s eyes darted to the bald guy, Hector had his answer. He was getting his wife out of here and then he was going to destroy that bald motherfucker. No man got to hurt her and live.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Kristoff and the twins spread out behind him, almost as if they were having his back.
“You touched her, Irish.” Kristoff’s voice was arctic.
Brian shrugged. “Actually, it was Mick. And that happened before we spoke and I found out who she was. I held up my part of the deal. Where’s my cash?”
That was Hector’s cue to move. He walked up to Brian and handed him the suitcase.
The guy put it on the table and opened it. He didn’t count it, probably assuming coming from Kristoff, that would be proof enough that it was all there.
Gina crawled up from her position on the floor, looking immensely relieved.
Brian snapped his fingers at her. “Where do you think you’re going? You haven’t paid my interest yet.”
Ah, shit. Hector was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this. “I’ll pay the interest,” he offered. He had an inkling Mary would object to him leaving her sister’s sorry ass behind.
“That’s not how this works, Hector ‘The Beast,’” Brian said.
His muscles pulled taut when he was reminded of his old street fighter name. “Then fucking enlighten me how it works.”
“You got your woman. She owes me nothing. Take her and leave. The little bitch that owes me interest is another matter. If I let her go, the next bitch who owes me will think she doesn’t have to pay me on time either.”
“She’s a pain in my ass, but I can’t leave without her,” Hector growled. “In-laws, what can you do? Give me a number.”
Brian went to stand right in front of Hector. “Blood or sweat. That’s the way people pay me if they are too late. But since you’ve asked a number, how about one?”
“One?” Like one million? That was a lot of money, but it would hardly make a dent in his savings.
There was a cheer outside, announcing the end of a fight. Brian cocked an eyebrow and Hector just knew. He knew it before Brian spoke the words.
“One fight. In the cage. Last man standing wins.”
Mary sucked in a breath. “What? No—”
“Take her out of here.” He didn’t have to repeat his words. Angel pulled a sputtering Mary out of the room.
He didn’t look back. He wouldn’t be able to focus if the last thing he saw before he went into that cage was her beautiful eyes.
He chin-jerked to Baldy. “I want him.” He’d been planning to get back to Baldy after he had Mary safely tucked away, but this would do. In fact, it was the perfect opportunity.
“Any time, Diaz,” Baldy spit out. “Maybe a few people still remember your name, but you’re nothing now. I’ll hand you over your balls.”
Brian shook his head. “I choose who you fight.” Clearly, he had less faith in his enforcer.
“I don’t give a fuck who I have to fight as long as I get a piece of him.”
“Fine with me. This just means there’ll be two fights. First Mick, then my champion.”
“Fine with me,” he repeated after the Irish.
“This isn’t going to end well,” Kristoff remarked.
Brian’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever happens in the cage stays in the cage. Even when the fighter is a brother you suddenly have.”
Meaning Kristoff couldn’t go to war should Hector die in the cage. Brian was giving Hector too much importance in Kristoff’s life.
“Damon, put a hundred on my brother.”
The opportunistic asshole.
“You’re going to make money off of me now?”
“Of course. I never let a good wager go to waste.”
All he had wanted for tonight was to fuck Mary while she was wearing her pumps. Instead, he was stuck in a fight he didn’t want to be in, surrounded by people he didn’t want to be with. And it was all Mary’s fault. She wasn’t allowed to get hurt or kidnapped.
He was beginning to understand what had driven Gio to lock up his wife that one time. It wasn’t him being an overprotective bastard. No, it was pure genius.
CHAPTER 26
MARY
“Ladies and gentlemen! Do we have a special treat for you tonight! He is feared for his flying knee, famous for his first-round knock-outs, and a legend for never having lost a fight. A decade after having left the ring, he returns for one night only. I present to you Hectoooooor ‘The Beast’ Diaz!”
Mary found herself in a front-row seat at an MMA fight. Kristoff sat next to her, the twins in the row behind them.
Fear for Hector coursed through her body, making her heart rate spike. She couldn’t believe that her ladies’ night had turned from margaritas into mayhem.
The crowd in the warehouse was loud and cheery. Hector’s opponent, Mick, the man who had slapped her, was already in the ring, waiting, bouncing on his feet, ghost boxing.
As a new song, Eminem’s “Lose yourself,” blasted through the speakers, the crowd went wild again. Her breath hitched when Hector entered the ring, introduced by what was apparently his walk-on song. His hands were taped, and he was wearing red shorts, his bare chest on full display.
The referee exchanged some words between the fighters and then got the hell out of their way. A bell sounded and then it was on.