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“Thank you for the offer,” Peter says, opens the door, and steps into the hall.
I join him. He shuts the door with a click. I can see every muscle in his body straining like he’s struggling to keep himself under control. He walks fast back through the house and Bushy Brows appears to escort us to the car. Once we’re buckled and driving, Peter lets out a sharp snarl, fingers turning white as he grips the wheel.
“That didn’t go well,” I say and look out the window, afraid to see his reaction.
“No, Adrienne, it didnotgo well. I didn’t expect him to agree right away, but I thought he’d at least negotiate. Maybe it would’ve taken more money and percentages and product, but—” He lets out a sharp breath. “Instead, he threatens me.”
“What would happen if he told your family what you’ve been doing?”
The question calms him somewhat, which puts me on edge. “It wouldn’t be good. Most people in Greece know I’m involved with Balaska doing a job, but not many of them know the details. And I could count on my hand the number of crime lords that would be smart enough to speak to my uncle about all this. Filo is one of them.”
“But what would happen? They’d bring you home? Punish you?”
He goes quiet for a long moment. “I think they’d kill me.”
I stare at him and can’t quite believe what he’s saying.
“Your own father? Your uncle? They’d murder you?”
The car bumps along the dirt road. He slows, avoiding the potholes. “You don’t seem to understand how my family works yet. I am meaningless in the grand scheme of things. I’m worthwhile because I can get married to someone politically expedient and create more children to be molded into killers and thrown into the fire like I was, more meat for the family to churn through, but beyond that, I’m nothing. I’m a soldier to them, and the moment I turn my back on my family and betray them is the moment I’ve killed myself. It doesn’t matter if that betrayal is so minor as to be worthless. It doesn’t matter who pulls the trigger that blows my brains out. So long as the trigger gets pulled and the traitor gets what he deserves.”
“They’d really kill you over this?”
“I think they would, yes.” He glances over at me, face a deadly mask. “Now you understand the stakes.”
“They’d kill me too.” I say it with perfect certainty and a cold chill runs down my spine. “What did we just do?”
“We put our fate in Rastus Filo’s hands. And it’s not a good place to be.”
He reaches the main road, turns, and hits the gas.
Chapter11
Peter
“Hands up, just like I showed you. Good, like that. Now, punch. Use your legs and hips.” Adrienne strikes the heavy bag with a grunt. Her form is sloppy and there’s not much power behind her strikes, but she’s a world better than where she was when we first started. “Not bad. You’re getting better.”
“I hope so.” She leans back against the wall. “We’ve been at this for days now.” Sweat drips down her forehead and my eyes move down to her sports bra and the tight black yoga pants that make her ass look like heaven. She’s wet from working out in the heat and it drives me fucking wild looking at her flushed, toned body. She grins at me. “Eyes up here, asshole.”
I run a hand through my hair and consider her for a moment. She’s harder and tougher already than she was when she came to me. We’ve been working hard for the better part of a week, doing weights, yoga, boxing, Muay Thai and a few other martial arts. I’ve been putting her through her paces, through hell really, and she hasn’t complained once. Not when I accidentally hit her in the face, or when she broke her left pinky toe, or when she twisted an ankle, or the numerous minor cuts and scrapes and bruises, or the bone-deep exhaustion and sore muscles.
No, she’s only gotten leaner, stronger, harder. Still soft and beautiful—five days won’t change herthatmuch—but she carries herself with her head held high now, and that confidence is intoxicating. I’m watching her break out from her shell and come into herself, and it’s incredible.
“I think you’re ready for some light sparring.”
“Against you?”
“There’s nobody else around, little killer.”
“You’re twice my size. It won’t be fair.”
“Do you think you’re going to fight people in the same weight class?” I gesture for her to follow me and lead her into the back yard. I toss her gloves and a mouthguard which she dutifully puts on. I wrap my fists in tape, yank on well-worn gloves, and get myself set. I roll my neck, shake out my arms, and face her. “Come at me.”
She hesitates, frowning like she doesn’t know what to do. “You mean just—”
I attack before she can finish that thought. I strike out with my gloved fist, aiming for her face, and she barely ducks out of the way. Days of hard training clearly left a mark because she reacted on instinct. Otherwise, I think I might’ve broken her nose.
“Good. Very good.” I circle around her and she keeps me in her line of sight just like I trained her to. I feel a surge of pride. She was meek and timid when we started and now look at her. Beautiful, angry, strong.
