They stand there in front of me doing what I demand, and I have to admit, I like telling them what to do and getting results. It’s better than with my brothers, that’s for damn sure. They don’t listen to what I say half the time.
They’re struggling by the time they get to seven.
“Keep going. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Tighten your core, don’t use your elbows to strength, use your back and your core, damnit.” I adjust Nikolas’s stance briefly before going over and grabbing thirty-pound weights and doing a set myself as they’re finishing up theirs.
“I thought we were going to learn to fight,” Beau tells me as he finishes up his set with his other arm, his breath heavy.
“You can’t fight if your punches have no weight behind them,” I remind the both of them. “It’ll do nothing. You have to be confident in your moves.”
Nikolas looks at Beau for a second before he finishes his own sets.
“We’re going to have to fight each other, right?” Nikolas asks as he sets the weights down.
“Ay, did I tell you to set them down? No,” I snap at him and motion him to pick them back up. They’re sweating, but I’m only just getting started.
“Yes. Unless you really want to try fighting me, I don’t think so. You’ll learn either way,” I put my arms out.
Nikolas’s face turns even more red and he avoids looking me in the eyes from then on.
The rest of the afternoon is spent working the hell out of the boys on the treadmill and learning just how much they can bench press before they putter out entirely.
I ignore the buzzing from my phone in my pocket, even though I know it’s probably about Aleksandr.
At least, until the boys go upstairs to shower, and I’m left downstairs alone.
I pull my phone out and see several updates from the guards I set to keep an eye on Aleksandr.
He’s been with several of the Bianchi family members all day.
I smirk to myself and look at the most recent update.
They’re heading for a restaurant downtown; because of course the Bianchi’s would want to show their power by coming to a restaurant in our domain like it’s nothing.
I know what Carmine will do. He will insist on keeping a low profile. Watching them from a distance. Waiting to see what their plan is.
Well, my plan is different. I have a man to get talking.
I park at the restaurant to the side of the building, and when I get out of my car, I see him.
Aleksandr.
He’s smoking a cigarette while leaning up against the wall beside the door of the restaurant. Almost like he knew I was following him.
There’s no one else in the parking lot, the sunset casting a glow over us as I shove my hands in my pockets and head over to him. I can see the car with the two guards I ordered to watch him sitting in the lot, and frankly, they’re more obvious than I am.
Aleksandr glares at me. His voice is quiet, but his accent thick. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks me.
He looks around us for a moment.
“No one else is lookin’, don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “Unless, you want me to cause a scene?”
Aleksandr takes a step to the side and blows his smoke in my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m not here to fight anyone. I’m here to have dinner with my family.”
I snort and grab the half of a smoke from his fingers and take a drag myself. I can taste his mouth on it, and it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I toss it to the ground afterword and smash it with my boot.
“Your family, sure,” I whisper. “We can keep his quiet if you want.”
