Passing His Guard

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

“It’s Rya

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. Rya

“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 Rya

“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 pla

“Rya

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 Rya

“Watch it!” Rya

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

“Aiden!” Rya

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 Rya

“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 Rya

“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, Rya

“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 Rya