“Take her down!” he howls, but I’m already moving, stepping into the wiry one’s space. He steps back, surprise flashing across his face. It’s cute that he thought I wouldn’t fight back.
I was just biding my time.
I swing again, but he’s quick. He sidesteps, the pipe whistling past his face. He lunges forward, but I meet him with a knee to the stomach. He doubles over, gasping for air. I use the momentum to bring the pipe down on his back, hearing the gratifying thud of metal against flesh.
The room erupts into chaos. The bear-like one is back on his feet, but he’s hobbling, his face twisted in pain. The wiry one is trying to get up, his back arching.
“Get up, you fucker!” I taunt, dancing out of the bear-like goon’s reach. “Come on, show me what you got.”
He lunges, but I dodge, the pipe singing through the air as I smack him right in the gut. He stumbles, his eyes going wide, and I take my chance.
With a grunt, I swing the pipe one more time, the metallic thud echoing in the room as it connects with the side of his head. He crumples to the ground, out cold.
Grinning triumphantly, I turn to the remaining one. “Your turn. Ready for a dance, twiggy?” I challenge, grinning at the wiry goon who’s managed to stagger back onto his feet.
He growls, launching himself at me. I pivot, bringing up the pipe to block his attack. He’s fast, but I’m faster. I’ve danced around men much bigger, much stronger, for a living.
Our fight is a messy, brutal dance. He swings, I duck. I jab, he blocks. We’re a whirl of flying fists and clashing metal. Each hit I land is a symphony, each block a well-rehearsed dance move.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I taunt, my smile never leaving my face. I’ve taken harder hits from slobbering drunks. This guy’s a joke.
In response, he flings himself at me, aiming for my stomach. I twist, letting his fist pass harmlessly by before I ram my elbow into his jaw. There’s a satisfying crunch, and he reels back, clutching his face.
I laugh, a wild, fierce sound. “Poor baby,” I mock, winding up for the knockout blow.
This is going to be good.
But then, there’s a moment of white-hot pain.
Fuckballs!
A pair of hands close around my throat, lifting me off the ground. I kick, thrashing against the hold, but it’s useless. The bear-like goon has got me in a vice-like grip.
“Night-night, little bitch,” he grunts in my ear, his hot breath reeking of cheap vodka and cigarettes.
My world fades to black.
Chapter 1
Sophia
Two damn days.
It’s like Luka’s fallen off the face of the Earth since that weird phone call at the lake house. That night, we connected. There was something real between us. He was more than just a mob boss; he was a man. And I am falling for him…hard. But spilling my guts to him? Hell, that would be like painting a target on my back.
Shit, I was about to confess everything to him.
I’m fucking insane!
After the call, it was like someone flipped a switch in him. The warmth, the openness…all gone. He was cold, distant. We packed up and left the lake house like we were running from a damn ghost.
I chew on my lower lip. But then I paste on a bright smile.
Gotta keep up the act for Yulia.
“Miss Maria, is Ms. Ivankov ready for her lesson?” calls a man from the stables, his voice rich and deep.
I spin around, coming face to face with a pair of smoky eyes set in a ruggedly handsome face. Dark hair. Dark eyes. A killer smile. Great, the horseback riding coach. Just what I needed.
