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No respect, just a greedy selfish little broad playing mafia.
I see the preppy little skank step into my ring wearing her trademark spandex booty shorts and sports bra. She looks like she’s about to go play high school volleyball instead of fighting the chief of underground fighting—but of course, she thinks I’m dead. She thinks my mother’s trunk is holding my cold corpse.
It’s that thought that has me pushing and stepping around my guards, walking with determined steps to the cage. I don’t wait for the fight master to finish speaking as I jump into the ring and rip the mic from his hands. Mila trips over herself, trying not to show her shock at my appearance and failing miserably.
Stepping closer to her, I hold the microphone close like I’m about to tell a scary story around the campfire.
“I hope no one is afraid of ghosts.”
The crowd cheers as my ominous words float over them all. Mila stares at me grinding her teeth and from the corner of my eye I see her weasel of a father try to make his way out of the arena.
“Oh, Mr. Popov, you’re going to want to stay for this. You see ladies and gents, the Popovs, as brilliant as they are, thought they’d get themselves an easy win by having me eliminated today—and byeliminatedI do mean killed.”
The crowd gasps and boos but everyone in the VIP section is standing stock still, waiting for a bomb to go off. Metaphorically, of course.
“Now, now everyone, let’s all calm down. As you can see, it’s not so easy to get rid of me. It’ll take much more than a family of cowards to end me,” I say with a sneer to Mila.
“Pizdobol!”Fucking liar!“We wouldn’t-” My punch knocks Mila to the fence. She tries to come at me again but I kick her in the stomach, making the crowd whistle and cheer.
“You will shut your worthless mouth, Princess. I’m not finished speaking to my guests. If you get up one more time you’ll lose your chance to beat me. Speak one more time and there won’t be a fight, I’ll just blow your brains out in front of daddy, yeah?” My words, which are spoken into the microphone, cause everyone to go silent.
That’s right. I’m threatening a Bratva princess but technically, we’re in the ring and no rules apply when you’re in the cage.
Mila must realize this because she starts to scoot towards the cage entrance.
“Ah, ah, ah. You’re not going anywhere. Jefa, bring out the traitor.”
Everyone including Mila, turns towards the back hall, where the fighters enter the arena from. Jefa comes walking out with two enforcers behind her; between them, Carlos. Bleeding from wounds that haven’t healed, the would-be-assassin hangs his head in utter defeat.As he should.
I speak as the enforcers drag Carlos into the cage and drop him at my feet, “This broken man you see before you is Carlos Benavides. A nephew and a traitor.” Looking over to Mila, I ask, “Why don’t you tell everyone why Carlos here is a fucking turncoat bastard?”
When Mila hesitates, I grab the back of her neck and shove the mic to her lips. “Fucking tell them,” I snarl in her ear.
“Poshol nahuj.”Fuck you.She says it with steel but her eyes betray her. She’s putting on a front once again, pretending to be something she’s not.
I smirk before bringing my knee up to her stomach, the same spot I kicked her moments ago. This cunt tried to have me murdered. She had my mother’s car trashed and destroyed so that I could hurt. She went after a memory, a sentimental piece of my past. She spit on my mother’s grave with the choices she made today. I have no sympathy. Her fake demeanor is all an act; to get the audience on her side.
To make everyone think I’m the bad guy.
I shove her against the fence just as I see Diego charging toward the cage. He looks ready to destroy Carlos but Jefa stops him before he can come any closer. This is her territory so he must listen to her or risk making her look weak in front of every mafia man in here. I can’t hear what’s being said but it doesn’t matter. Movement at the arena entrance draws my attention just as I begin speaking.
“Since Princess won’t tell you what went down today, I will.” I watch Twitch walk down the aisle toward the cage, stopping next to Diego and saying something to him that causes him to go ridged before coming over to the cage like he's going to get in and kill Carlos.
“Sorry Diego, but your nephew went behind your back and got in bed with the Popov boss today. He claims innocence but once he was detained we made a little phone call to Mr. Popov and the two buddies got to laughing at my demise.”
“Perdóname, Patrón, por favor,”Forgive me boss, please, Carlos whimpers. “They made me do it.”
“Silencio! Be quiet! You do not deserve to speak and toss blame. You will die for this.” Diego nods for his men to take Carlos. To where? I don’t care, I know Diego will make him pay for his crimes. Right now my sights are set on Mila.
“Tonight, princess, you and I are going to give these goodfellas a show. We're going to fight the usual rounds but we're going to go at it bare-fucking-knuckles. No ref, no rules.”
I toss the mic to the fight master as he walks out of the gate, closing it behind him. The crowd is cheering, whistling, stomping and chanting all around us. Motivating my pulse to speed up.
I pull my hoodie off before throwing it over the fence towards Johnny and square up to this broad. She truly wasn't expecting to fight me like this but I give her credit for not pussing out. She rips her gloves off and tosses them over the fence as well before getting into her southpaw position.
There's no fist bump between us because there is no mutual respect. I find this woman to be a disgrace to not only fighters but to the mafia world, especially with the stunt she pulled today. She should have been stand-up and faced me in the ring like a real fighter does.
I inhale deeply through my nose, imagining the scent of fear that is surly emanating from her. I visualize my mother's smile when I bought her the white Mercedes and the way she took care of it even when she was tired and fighting her own bodily battles.
