I follow Remo to his home gym, and removing my gun, I set it down on the nearest bench. We move to the mat and circle each other. Remo cracks his knuckles and flashes me a cocky grin.
“Ready?” he asks, before taunting me. “Or should I give you a minute to stretch? I don’t want you straining a muscle.”
I roll my neck and lift my fists. “Shut up and fight.”
When he lunges at me, I block his first strike, barely deflect the second, then eat the third as he gets in a punch. Pain scatters through my jaw, and I let out a chuckle.
We circle each other, our eyes locked. Suddenly, Remo feints right, but goes left, trying to catch me off guard. I duck anddeliver a blow to his ribs, which has him grunting, then he retaliates with a kick to my side of my left leg.
“Asshole,” he says, hopping back to put some distance between us while he rubs the side of his chest.
“Aww…did I hurt the baby?” I taunt him with a shit-eating grin on my face.
He rushes at me again, and this time we collide hard. We struggle for control, our breathing rough and teeth bared. He sweeps my feet from under me, but I quickly twist my body, dragging him down to the floor. We roll across the mat, wrestling like we are trying to kill each other instead of burning off stress.
Remo slams his fist into my left kidney, and I shove him off of me while hissing, “Fucker. You always aim there.”
Grinning like he just won the fight, he says, “Because you hate it.”
We climb back to our feet, and as he throws another punch at me, I headbutt him.
Remo staggers two steps backward. “Ohhh, you’re so fucking dead.”
“Give it your best shot.”
He comes at me again, tackling me off my feet, and as my back plows into the mat, I laugh. I buck hard, and when Remo loses balance, I wrestle him until I’m on top. Just to fuck with him, I pat his cheek. “You were saying?”
I push to my feet, a smile tugging at my mouth. “Have you had enough?”
“Not by a long shot,” he mutters before lunging at me and delivering two blows to my left side.
I retaliate by slamming my forearm into his throat, and as he gags, I take his feet out from under him, dropping him on his ass.
Even though he’s trained well, he’s not as good as me so I take it easy on him. The last thing I want to do is seriously hurtmy best friend. After we spend an hour working up a sweat, I call it a night.
While I pick up my gun from the bench, Remo catches his breath before asking, “You’ll check in on Valentina?”
“I said I would.” Knowing what his next question is going to be, I add, “And I’ll let you know if anything is wrong. Chill.”
“Chill? That’s rich coming from you.”
With a smirk, I walk out of the gym and head toward the front door. “See you next week.”
Remo and Adriano both live in cottages situated on their parents' property. The grounds are teeming with guards, and as I make my way down the path that leads to the driveway, Nico joins me.
“Looks like you worked up a sweat,” he mentions.
“Sparring session.”
I get into the backseat of my Bentley and pull my phone out. Bringing up Valentina’s number, I press dial and listen as the line connects.
“Hi,” she answers, sounding breathless.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine, and you?” When I hear nervousness in her tone, my eyes narrow.
“How are the kids?”
