Page 10 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

He was classically handsome. Dark hair, olive skin. Might have been of Italian heritage. His jeans and hoodie were clean, but his work boots were covered in dirt and scuffed to hell. The pissed-off, I-don’t-want-to-be-here scowl only made the sharp line of his stubbled jaw stand out more.

Luca glanced over. “You gonna keep checking me out or watch the fight?”

I blew out a long breath. Okay. Definitely hadn’t been imagining things. I shifted and shoved my hands into my pockets. I’d had a thing with an old teammate before I’d gone into prison. A stupid college thing that had been mostly fumbling in the dark or messing around at parties when we could blame the attraction on being drunk.

And there’d been a couple of quick fucks while I’d been on the inside. Nothing special. Just two guys taking the edge off, no real attraction at all. Just need.

A need I’d done nothing about since I’d gotten out, and now I was so fucking twitchy, I could barely stand still.

I forced my attention back to the fight, but when the crowd surged behind us, pushing me into Luca, neither of us stepped back.

My heartbeat picked up, my arm pressed against his, neither of us looking at the other. Luca tapped something out on his phone and then shoved it in his back pocket.

“Watch the fight, Lynx,” Luca said, the vague hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve just put money on it.”

Cocky son of a bitch.

Fuck me for liking it.

I focused on the two fighters stripping off their shirts, tossing them to the ground and circling each other. The closest to us was a big motherfucker. All broad shoulders and bulky muscle. Probably would have made a great linebacker.

But as they turned and the light hit his opponent’s face, I did a double take.

“I know him,” Luca and I both said at the same time.

“Dax?” I asked.

Luca nodded. “Yeah, I mean, not well. But he works at the tattoo shop.”

“Owns it,” I agreed. “Friend of mine works there too. Dax is his boss.”

I frowned at Reaper’s employer. He wasn’t short, he was at least six foot, but the other man had probably a hundred pounds on him.

The other guy moved like he’d been boxing all his life.

Dax seemed like he barely wanted to be there, despite having clearly volunteered. He sluggishly moved his feet, and just eyed his opponent.

Whatever budding attraction had been brewing between me and Luca was forgotten.

“Shit,” I muttered. “I got a bad feeling about this.”

“You got money on it too?”

I shook my head. “No, I just don’t want to see Dax get hurt. I know he’s had some personal shit going on…”

Luca crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “It does seem like it’s going to be pretty one-sided.” He pulled his phone out again and tapped his finger against the glass. “I’m upping my bet.”

“On Dax?”

Luca snorted. “Is that where you’d be putting your money?”

“No.”

“Me neither. I’m sure he’s a nice guy but—”

Jackson, the bigger fighter, made the first move, throwing out a punch that hit nothing but air when Dax dodged it.

The crowd around us let out a collective, “Ooh!” that sounded more like a taunt than encouragement.