Once we reach the station, they take Emilio into a room while making me sit in the waiting area. No one will tell me what’s going on, no matter how much I ask or threaten to call my dad.I think they all know I’m bluffing. No way I want my dad to find out I’m here.
After about an hour, Emilio is walked out of the room. “Sit next to her. Don’t move,” a detective says while pointing to me.
“Are you okay?” I whisper to Emilio.
He nods his head. “You good?” he asks, and I nod back.
“Can we leave now?” I yell out to the detective.
“No,” he says.
“What the fuck did you do?” My father’s voice has me turning towards the door. Shit, they called him and he’s mad. I jump up out of my seat and block Emilio from his view.
“Daddy, it wasn’t his fault. It was mine,” I tell him.
“Nothing is your fault, princess,” Dad says in a much softer tone. Emilio stands next to me. He doesn’t say anything. “Both of you, in the car now.” My father glares at Emilio. “I’ll drop you home.”
As we make our way to the car, I mouth “I’m sorry” to Emilio, who just smirks at me and shrugs. And that’s when my stomach dips. That smirk, it does things to me I really wish it wouldn’t do.
Chapter One
FOUR YEARS AGO
There’s an adrenaline that rushes through me before every fight. I fucking love it. I’ve been doing this for a year, underground fighting. It’s a way to burn energy and get out built-up frustration. I’m also really fucking good at it and win a lot of cash. Not that I need it.
Being the son of Emmanuel Lopez, current leader of the De La Sangre Cartel, has many perks. One of them being access to an unlimited bank account. I have three older brothers and a younger sister.
My family isn’t your typical crime family, though. There’s no in-house fighting or scheming to take that top spot away from my father. We all respect the man. He and my mom are fucking great parents, and when it comes time for my dad to retire, Elias will take his place.
I’ll work for the family business once I finish school. There is no other path for me. I was born into this. I’ll die in this too. I’m okay with that. Dying for my family wouldn’t be a hard sacrifice for me to make. I’d take a bullet for any of my siblings and my parents.
And her. Frankie fucking Giuliani. The girl whose big brown eyes are staring right back at me through the wire cage.
What the fuck is she doing here?
I walk over to her. “Go home, Frankie. You shouldn’t be here.”
As if on cue, she narrows her glare at me. “Screw you, Emilio. You can’t tell me what to do. Besides, I have money on the fight. I’m waiting to see if I win.” She smiles, and I swear I feel it in my heart.
“Oh yeah? You rooting for me?” I ask her.
“Nope, I bet on the other guy. I hope he knocks your cocky ass out.” She smirks and steps back.
I can’t help but laugh. Of course she fucking bet against me. I pull and she pushes. That’s how it always is with us. I know she feels it. I also know she doesn’t want to acknowledge whatever fucked-up connection it is we have. Over the last year, I’ve chosen to ignore it too.
It would be messy if I touched her. If I claimed her the way I want to, I’d end up destroying everything that’s good in her. I would corrupt her. Mind, body and soul. I’m not ready to do that.
I nod at my brother. Ezekiel’s two years older than me and probably the one I hang out with the most, other than my sister. But this isn’t the kind of place I’d ever bring Eliana. Ezekiel makes his way around the cage and stands next to a very smug-looking Frankie.
Joke’s on her, because I’m not losing this fight. I really hope she’s ready to fork over some cash. I smile at her before putting my mouth guard in and nodding at the referee. My fists bump with my opponent’s.
The second the bell rings out, I’m in the zone. Everything else fades away. That is until I turn, following the asshole who is trying to land a jab at my head, and I see her. I lose focus, and I feel the gloved fist connect with my skull, knocking me sideways.
Shaking through the pain, I refocus. That’s his one fucking shot. I step to the side as I hit him with a right hook. Seconds later, the asshole is on the ground, eyes rolling back in his head. I stand above him and wait for the ref to call it. As soon as he does, I turn and smile at Frankie, whose face looks like she’s seen a ghost. Ashen white.
I step out of the cage and walk around to find her. Ezekiel takes off my gloves and then starts working on the tape. “What happened?” I ask Frankie, who still hasn’t said a word.
“I wanted you to lose. That’s what happened,” she says.