Rolling my lips in, I try to bite back my smile, but I catch Charlie’s grinning face, and he shoots me two thumbs-up, which makes me blush, even as the table explodes in hoots and cheers at Zia’s claim.
Does he know what he just did?
He told them all we are fucking and that I’m his, but when I see his amused expression, I know he did it on purpose.
That’s one of the most beautiful things about him. He’s so unashamedly . . . Zia.
TWENTY-THREE
Zia eats every bite of food and even orders seconds. My dad nods in approval and pours him another beer. “So, Zia, you’re a businessman, right?”
Charlie scoffs. “His last name is Xander. Heisbusiness.”
Zia grins. “My father’s companies. I am simply transitioning into his position to take over. I am hoping to continue to grow the family business and make him proud.”
“Sounds like you’re a good son.” I know there’s more my father wants to ask, so does Zia.
“You can ask. I will only bite your son.”
My dad blushes, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment.
“There are rumors about your family,” he finally says.
“Ah, those . . . They aren’t rumors—well, not all. Most are true.” He shrugs. “I’m not ashamed of where I came from. My father is a good man, and he did what he needed to so he could keep us alive and give me a better future. I’m sure you can understand that.”
My dad nods hesitantly, and the table falls silent, every eye on Zia as they wait for his words. I can’t look away either. Pride and love shine in his gaze. I think being loved by a man like him would make me happy. I wouldn’t need anything else.
“He’s made some questionable choices, and some aren’t quite above the law, but he has never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. I know what they say about us, that we are a gang or bullies, and I guess we are, but we protect what we claim as ours, and that includes your son and your business now. I won’t beg for forgiveness or sugarcoat my life. It’s dangerous, and I have connections that would terrify you, but I am determined to make my father proud and make our businesses legitimate. It was a different world back then.”
“It was.” My father nods. “I have heard those rumors. I have also heard that your father is a good man. All your staff members are rehabilitated ex-cons who couldn’t get a job anywhere else.”
“I believe in second chances, and so does my father,” Zia says. “Those people committed crimes, but it doesn’t make them criminals forever. They have paid for it and should be given a chance to have a life, but most won’t. It was my idea. I saw many of the people I grew up with lost to drugs and desperation after they got out of jail, unable to find honest work, so they had no choice but to turn back to illegal activities to make money to eat. I don’t go around employing serial killers,” he jokes, and everyone laughs, “but I believe that everyone deserves a chance. It doesn’t matter where you come from. It matters where you are going and how much you want it, just like you.”
“Me?” my father asks incredulously.
“Yes. Despite your upbringing, you taught yourself how to box, learning on the streets. When everyone else around you lost hope, struggled to put food on the table, and got boring nine-to-five jobs, you still fought. You followed your dream. You made it happen. That wasn’t easy. There must have been days when you wanted to give up, but you didn’t. Now look at you. You have an incredible gym filled with talented athletes. You have a son who adores you and is following in your footsteps. You might not have my wealth, but you have your own around you.” He looks at me. “Nikko has your same drive and determination. I have no intention of standing in the way of him becoming a champion or ruining his dream with my name.” He looks at my father. “I want to be a man someone like you could be proud of. Iwant to help the people of our city and give back. I want my father to see it before it’s too late.”
“Too late?” I ask, frowning.
He swallows, sipping his beer before he speaks. “My father is sick and has been for a while. Degenerative, nothing anybody can do. It’s why I stepped up. I couldn’t let his companies, his entire livelihood, go to someone else or be ruined. I never wanted to be a businessman, but I will do it for him, and I will be the best one I can be.”
“Your father sounds like a lucky man,” my dad remarks as he covers Zia’s hand with his. “It’s obvious you love him very much. There is no judgment here, Zia. We have all done things in the name of love and survival. We understand it. You are always welcome in our gym, in our family, and at our table.”
It hits Zia hard, and he stares at my father with this sad kind of relief on his face. Was he really that worried my father would call it blood money and turn him away?
It’s not who Dad is. Like Zia, my dad judges a person on their actions, not on rumors or the past.
“Thank you,” Zia replies. “I’d like that seat.” He looks at the rest of the table. “I’m having a really good night. Besides, it’s a relief to be around people who aren’t demanding quarterly numbers and discussing contracts.” They all laugh, then conversation sparks back up. My dad looks at me with a smile before pouring Zia another beer.
“Drink up, kid, and eat more. You’re too skinny,” he orders, and I melt. That’s my dad’s way of caring for you, and it now encompasses Zia. I couldn’t be more relieved because despite our deal, I care about Zia a lot. He’s important to me, and he’s come to mean so much. I don’t know where this will go, but I want to stick it out with him.
Just then, the band kicks it up a notch, the music turning loud, and people rise to dance, some of our boxers included. We turn to watch, just another amazing sight in Mama’s.
As Zia watches them, I watch him. His face lights up, and he sits close to me. He’s so fucking beautiful, it hurts. He’s like a painting you never want to look away from because you know you’ll never stop trying to decipher its many meanings and angles.
That’s what Zia is—a flawless piece of art made to be loved and adored.
His eyes are bright as he watches the couples dance to the song, and his feet tap along to the music. Before I know it, the words escape from my mouth.
