Twisted Loyalties [GL Version]

CHAPTER THREE

Alex

     I pulled up into the parking lot of Roger’s Arena, killing the engine. My muscles were already taut with eagerness. The thrill of fighting still got me after all these years. In the cage it didn’t matter if your Father was a powerful man or construction worker. It didn’t matter what people thought of you. All that mattered was the moment, your fighting skills, your skill to read the enemy. It was one against one. Life was seldom as fair as that.

     I stepped into Roger’s Arena. It was already crowded. The stench of old sweat and smoke hung in the air. It wasn’t an inviting place. People didn’t come here for the atmosphere or good food. They came for money and blood.

     The first fight was about to start. The two opponents were already facing each other in the cage in the center. They weren’t the main attraction. Eyes turned to me, then quickly away, as I strode past the rows of tables with spectators. My fight was last. I’d fight the poor sucker who had proven to be the best over the last few weeks. Sandro thought it was good to have me beat the strongest fighters to a bloody pulp in a cage to show everyone what kind of Enforcer the Camorra had. And I didn’t mind. It helped me remember the beginning, helped me stay grounded and vicious. Once you allowed yourself to grow pampered, you set yourself up for attack and for failure.

     My eyes were drawn to the bar. It took me a moment to recognize her, not shivering and dripping wet like yesterday. She had long amber curls, sharp and yet elegant features. She was serving drinks to the men gathered at the bar; men with eyes like hungry wolves. She was focused on the task, oblivious to their staring. It was obvious that she didn’t have much experience working in a bar. She took too long drawing a simple beer. To be honest, I hadn’t expected her to work here, perhaps one of the customers here had recommended her this job. That she had taken the job after seeing the cage told me two things: she was desperate and she’d seen worse in her life.

     She glanced up, noticing my attention. I still waited for the inevitable reaction. It didn’t come. She smiled shyly, her eyes registering my clothes.

No suit today. 

     Black jeans and a black long sleeved shirt, my preferred style, but sometimes the suit was necessary. She hesitated, then quickly returned to the task of serving beer to an old fucker.

     Who was this girl? 

     And why wasn’t she scared?

     Tearing my eyes away from her, I headed toward Roger who was talking to our bookie Grayson. I shook hands with both men. Then I nodded toward the bar. “New girl?”

     Roger shrugged. “She showed up in my office today, looking for a job. I need new staff.” He regarded me uncertainly. “Do you want me to alert Romano?”

Romano was our romancer. He preyed on women, pretended to be in love with them, and eventually forced them to work in one of the Camorra’s whorehouses.

     I didn’t get along with him. I shook my head. “She doesn’t fit the profile.”

I didn’t know how Romano choose the girls he pursued, and I didn’t give a fuck.

 
   “So how’s it going?” I nodded toward Grayson's iPad where he managed all of the bets coming in.

“Good. The few idiots who have bet against you will bring us a lot of money.”

I nodded, but my eyes went over to the bar counter again. I wasn’t even sure why. I had driven the girl home last night on a whim, and that was it.

“I’ll grab something to drink.”