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“I find it brutish and inelegant.”

He snorted. “Coming from you, that’s hilarious.”

“There’s a difference between fighting for sport and fighting for your life.”

Liam glanced over, head tilted. His eyes were bright as he nodded. “I know the difference.”

I leaned back against the wall next to him. We were quiet as the losing man was helped to his feet. He stood unsteadily, knees wobbling, as the winner came over to make sure he was okay. The two men, winner and loser, walked off together, arm in arm.

Sportsmanship. People loved that shit. Winners acting gracious, losers being proud. I had no interest in sportsmanship. That sort of honor existed only in the rigorous confines of sports, where rules kept men in check.

I didn’t have that luxury. Honor had no place in my life.

“You went to visit Melanie,” I said quietly as another set of fighters entered the ring. These two were younger, barely in their teens or twenties, both lanky and awkward, but muscular from years of training. One wore red shorts, a dark-skinned guy with a baby face and hard eyes, and the other wore blue, a shorter but stockier white kid with a ponytail. They touched gloves and began.

“Yes, I did. Her bodyguard made sure nothing untoward happened.”

“Why?”

He watched the fight with a vicious fascination. Red shorts came on hard and fast and put blue on the defensive.

“Because she’s a part of this story now. You dragged her into our world when you brought her to the meeting. You had to know that would make us curious.”

“Curious is one thing, but to go talk to her is another.”

“You made that decision.”

Blue ducked back from a series of hard punches and countered with a masterfully placed jab. Red took a hit to the face and danced back as blue pressed his advantage.

“She needed to know what you and Silvano had planned for her family. Really, Liam. I know you’re better than this.”

He didn’t look at me. Red took another series of punches to the midsection, but managed to work his way out of danger with several counter punches that forced blue back. They reset, back toward the middle, and began again.

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” he asked quietly as red landed a solid hook. “She didn’t need to be at the meeting. You could’ve told her without dragging her in front us and parading her around. That was about control. That was about showing me and Silvano and Griffin that you’re one step ahead.”

I ran my hand through my hair. “Did it work?”

“No, I don’t think it did. So what’s your move now, Alex?”

I set my teeth together. I hated when he used my real name. He did it on purpose—he knew it bothered me. It reminded me too much of my parents. Others used that name, people that didn’t know me—and it washed over my skin like water. But Liam wanted to jab his fingers into an old wound just to see if I’d react.

“She’s taking me out to Colorado. I’m going to see the famous Orchard mansion for myself.”

He laughed softly. “Silvano won’t be happy.”

“I hope not.” I pushed myself off the wall. Blue took another hard punch from red and staggered against the ropes. The ref jumped in and ended the fight before red could slaughter his opponent. Blue wasn’t happy—the boy had spirit and was a strong fighter, but he was clearly finished.

“I understand you don’t like the method. I’m not partial toward it either. But Silvano’s correct. The world’s changing, and if we don’t change, our eastern brothers will have too much strength and influence to stop. They’ll come for us, sooner or later.”

“It doesn’t have to be now and it doesn’t need to be this way.” I hesitated, lingering in front of Liam. The big, broken monster stared back casually, hands wrapped in linen and tape, his knuckles bruised and bent from hours spent fighting. “Stay away from her.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

“I mean it, Liam. Tell Silvano too. The girl’s not a part of this. She’s a means to an end. She’s not a target.”

“I wish it were that simple, but she’s an Orchard.”

I turned, staring into his eyes. Liam was bigger than me. He was a trained fighter and reveled in using his fists. He was born in pain and molded in fire.

But he’d let his pain break him once, and it would break him again. He was brittle, on the edge of shattering, but I was hot steel. I’d slice my way through my enemies, and if he decided to stand in my way, I’d cut him down and destroy him.

“We’re the same, you and me,” I said softly. “We’re not like the others. Don’t make me an enemy.”

“Same or different, it doesn’t matter. The girl’s in this now and you only have yourself to blame.”

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