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Aiden exhaled a pent-up sigh. “So do I. I didn’t handle that very well at all.”
Nikko stood and clasped him on the shoulder. “Well, you can tell her that when you get home. Let’s go get this over with, huh?”
The arena was packed. Stepping into the spotlight, Aiden couldn’t see beyond the blinding glow beaming down on him. The noise was chaotic, the cheering, the booing . . . Aiden kept his gaze down, his focus centered. For the next five rounds nothing mattered but wi
As he made his way to the ring, he refused to give Moralli the satisfaction of his gaze. When he won, and only then, would he look that bastard in the eye and claim his victory. Lose this fight . . . not a bloody chance in hell. The a
His opponent was already in the ring, pacing his corner like a caged animal. As Aiden stepped forward, he noticed there was no referee to call out the fight, and he had all of two seconds to digest the significance of that before the fighter charged him. Aiden sidestepped at the last minute and used his momentum to send a spi
Aiden was a fighter known for his stand-up and his rock-solid jaw. It was his ability to take damage and keep fighting that made him such a dangerous competitor. This fighter was good, but Aiden had fought better in the CFA. He sparred with better every day he stepped into the ring with Nikko “the Bull” Del Toro to train. Nikko hit harder and moved faster. There was never a doubt in Aiden’s mind that he was going to win this fight. It was only a matter of time before his opponent made a fatal mistake. The error occurred moments later when his opponent dropped his guard and Aiden countered with a one-two punch.
The first strike was to the gut and the second an uppercut to the jaw. The fighter flew back and hit the cage again, and this time Aiden followed, shooting for his hips. He took the guy to the mat and braced his hands on the fighter’s biceps, holding his arms down as he hopped to his feet. Aiden rocked back and shoved his knee up, passing his guard and taking side control.
He dazed the fighter with a few well-placed elbows, and moved in for an Americana submission. Pi
In that moment time seemed to stop. The cheers and screams of the crowd dimmed to white noise as Aiden’s heart seized inside his chest. The terror lancing through his veins was like shards of glass. Paralyzing fear gripped him in its merciless, unrelenting grasp as his eyes met and locked on Rya
Tears streamed down her cheeks. The desperation on her panic-stricken face gutted him. And there, sitting beside her was Vincent Moralli, wearing a smug, triumphant grin. His hand was clamped tightly on her arm, restraining her to the place of honor at the dais beside him. All at once the realization slammed into him with the force of a freight train, Moralli knows . . . He knows what I’ve done and he was right. I’m going to lose this fight. Aiden just prayed the FBI would get here in time to save Rya
She was too late . . . too late to stop the fight. Moralli and his men had been waiting for her the moment she’d entered the Lion’s Den. It was as if they knew she was coming. She hadn’t made it fifty feet before his enforcer had descended on her. She’d never stood a chance of escape. Whether Madeline Kruze had set her up, or if she’d i
You should have become a rook, Rya
The crowd gasped in surprise, and many booed, when Aiden released his hold on the fighter and rolled to his feet, letting his opponent up. “What the fuck are you doing?” she heard Nikko yelling from the sideline as he rushed the cage.
“Aiden, no!” she screamed. She didn’t know whether he heard her or not, but when he cast her one final glance, her heart broke as she stared at the face of defeat. It was a look she’d never seen in her fighter before, and one that would haunt her for as long as she lived. Her only consolation was that wouldn’t be very long.
When the fighter slammed his fist into Aiden’s jaw, he didn’t even try to block it. The blow knocked him back, but he refused to go down—stubborn male. A sob broke from her throat and she covered her face. She couldn’t watch another moment of this brutal assault . . .
Vincent grabbed the back of her head, his hand fisting into her hair and yanking her head up. He leaned close, his hot breath like scalding pungent vapors against her cheek. “You’re going to watch this, Rya
The fighter hit Aiden again—and again—and again. Nausea gripped her as the thud of fists striking flesh and bone sent a surge of bile up the back of her throat, bitter and burning. He dropped to one knee, refusing to fall and refusing to fight. His guard was down, heavily muscled arms hanging loose at his sides, arms she would give anything to be in right now. Oh, God . . .
“Stop this,” she sobbed. Vincent’s grip on her hair tightened painfully and he yanked her head back again when she tried to look away. “He’s going to kill him . . .”
“That’s precisely the point, my dear.”
Desperation clawed at her from the inside out. Her wild gaze searched for Nikko, but she couldn’t find him in the frenzied crowd. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been climbing the cage, yelling at Aiden. Where was he? Aiden needed him!