Page 98 of Barinov

“Mr. Chang’s,” she confirms, taking her attention back to her dead brother clutched in her arms. “Meilin’s not for sale. She never is.”

Chapter 22

LEX

Miami, Florida

Getting ready to start Luca’s Red Hour.

24 days since Bella’s kidnapping.

DAD: Good luck son. Stay strong.

ME: I will. How’s mom?

Dad didn’t come with us to Miami. He decided to hang back and watch over Mom.

When she found out what happened in Costa Rica, she was a nervous wreck. Then I told her I was going to have to fight down here and the news sent her into a full blown panic attack. She may be an ice cold Bratva bitch to everyone else, but not when it comes to me.

We didn’t want to leave her alone.

DAD: She’ll be fine. You can’t worry about her right now. Stay focused.

DAD: Call me when it’s over.

ME: Will do.

I slide my phone into my bag. Cade, Rez, Roman, and Marisol are already stepping into the gym.

This place is more of a shitty practice gym than anything. Nothing like I’d expect from a cartel boss known for his deep-pockets and high-stakes fight nights. Rickety, rusted weight benches line the far wall and a few fraying punching bags drape from poles in the corner. In the center there is an octagon surrounded by a metal cage and a few rows of bleachers.

“Well,” I mutter, dropping my duffel bag on one of the metal bleachers. “This is underwhelming.”

“Hey,” Marisol says, putting her hands on her hips. “Zeke said he needed a ring. He didn’t specify which one.”

“You have more than one?” Cade asks, looking around at the cage.

“We’ve got seven total all over Miami,” she beams. “Some for workouts like this one and others for Daddy’s big high roller fights.”

“In position,” Tex says through the comms. “No movement out front.”

He’s perched on the rooftop of the grocery store across the street. Sniper view locked on the main door.

“Nothing out back either,” Knox crackles in a few seconds later from the van.

“What now, babe?” Cade asks as he takes a seat.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Normally by now that bastard would have—”

DING.

The gym lights cut.

“Damn it,” I grit. “Spoke too soon.”

@LucaWasHere

Welcome Lexie, to my Red Hour.