Chapter - 13 First Match

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Lily Jenkins

I walked inside the arena with Dante who had taken out a duffel bag from the car as if he was always ready to come here and fight.

The arena was half bar. It was filled with men. The only women I could see were waitresses and Leyla who sat in a private booth, looking around...nervously.

Dante looked down at me. The arena was dark and lit up with some glaring blue lights which didn't expand. The men looked at us, everyone looked at us, and suddenly I felt like crawling out of my skin.

Then I spotted him. Pietro's son.

I took in a shaky breath. Dante took hold of my chin and turned my head towards him. He looked deeply into my eyes. For a moment, I expected him to provide words of comfort. But all he did was nod his head toward Leyla. "Sit with her. No one will bother you."

And he walked away, disappearing into a room.

Unsettled, I walked to Leyla who smiled at me. Her smile was shaking, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her dress.

"Where are Giovanni and Fabiano?" I asked her. They seemed to calm her nerves.

"They are getting ready for the fight," she whispered. "They are going to fight five men together. It's a death match."

I sat down beside her. Every eye was on her. This place didn't feel safe. But no one approached.

"Death match?" I gasped.

She nodded, looking down at her hands. "It's a common occurrence."

"You are okay with it?"

She shrugged. "I don't get much of a choice. I knew who they were when I fell for them. Maybe it makes me a terrible person, but they can kill everyone here and I'd still love them." She looked at me. "I'm a little crazy, I know."

"Villian's love," I said. "My mother, Amanda, once wrote an article about it. How there are two kinds of love that exist in the world - the Hero's love and the Villian's love. Villian's love is when love hurts and one laughs while bleeding and Hero's love is when one only laughs. Villian's love hurts - it's the rawest form of love, and Hero's love is a fairytale - the purest form of love."

She smiled. "Now I see where you get all your talent from."

I chuckled. "She is a good writer," I said. "Every word I write is influenced by my mothers. It's like they move the pen or press the keys."

Sadness flickered over her face, she quickly hid it.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She let out a breath and then gave me a smile that hurt my heart. "My mother died years ago. She was...amazing." She shook her head. "Not a day goes by when I dont think of her."

Before I could say a word, the cage which was in the middle of the arena, opened and Giovanni, Fabiano, and...Dante stepped inside. All three of them were half naked, covered with different tattoos.

"I didn't know he was fighting too," Leyla whispered. "They are recreating it."

"Recreating what?"

"The first match," she said. "The first match they had here - the match to become the bosses. That means..."

Ten men entered the cage and the cage was shut, the sound made me flinch.

The ten men who had entered were large and bulk. They looked ready to kill while the Valentinos stood calm.

Giovanni was grinning, Fabiano seemed to be accessing every opponent, and Dante just...stared, as if already bored with the fight.

Then it started.

And it was terrible.

I kept my eyes on Dante as he threw his first punch, his large hand collided with the throat of the man. In minutes Dante had him pinned to the ground with his hand around his neck. The man struggled like a fish but Dante wouldn't let go.

I felt sick. I felt so sick.

I stood and ran out of the arena, ignoring Leyla's call. I couldn't breathe. What was this? How could anyone do thi? How could anyone watch this?

I ran to where Dante's car was and pulled my phone out of my clutch with shaking fingers.

I unlocked it but my fingers wouldn't press anything. My eyes were blurred with tears and all I felt was terror.

And then the phone was slammed out of my hands and Aldo was there.

Instantly, my mind screamed danger. He smelled of alcohol. He looked to be made of rage.

He walked closer and before I could run, he grabbed my wrists with one hand, pressing them to the car, and put his leg between my legs, making me immobile.

He glared down at me with so much hate it made my skin crawl. I screamed, but the sound did nothing. The chants and shouts of the arena were too loud.

"You ruin my family's honor," he snarled. "Becoming his whore. You spit on the legacy of my father." His grip tightened on my wrist, and I cried out, struggling wildly, but he seemed to be made of steel. "I will cut you up and send your pieces to your whore of a mother."

In a moment he was ripped away from me and a foot was on his throat, slamming his head on the ground.

I looked at Dante. His upper body was splattered with blood, filling in the dark lines of his tattoos. His eyes were wild, rage deeper than hell in them as he stared down at Aldo.

Dante's lips lifted in the most terrifying smile I had ever seen.

. . .

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