Page 8 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

I pretended to weigh up the options. “Sweater I’ll never wear because I don’t own a pair of loafers to go with it. Or watching two men pummel each other until there’s blood and hopefully teeth flying through the crowd.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Ah, I can practically smell the plasma and dental bills now.” I bounced on my toes excitedly. “When are we going?”

Reaper glanced at his watch. “Now. We’ve probably already missed the first fight, but there should be a few.”

In the clubhouse parking lot, we both zipped up our jackets and tugged on helmets. My bike was a hand-me-down from one of the other guys, and I had promised to pay him back for it. Which was partly why I’d been happy to take the bodyguard job at the Guerras’ when War had offered it. As a prospect, I wasn’t making any money from the club yet, and I hated feeling like I was freeloading.

I knew all too well I was here, with a roof over my head and belonging to something, only because Reaper had vouched for me. I didn’t want to be anyone’s liability. If I could handle ten years in Saint View Prison, dealing with the various thugs and criminals within those four walls, I could handle some billionaires in suits who thought they were rich enough to do as they pleased, laws and consequences be damned.

I followed Levi out the clubhouse gates and through the woods surrounding them. Out on the main road, he took lazy corners until we were deep in the underbelly of Saint View and parking our bikes in the lot of some run-down boxing gym.

As soon as I pulled my helmet off, the excitement and buzz of the crowd hit me and my heartbeat picked up a few notches. If there was anything to miss about prison, it was this.

I fucking loved a good fight. Whether I was in it or not was irrelevant.

Sitting around at the clubhouse, cleaning the kitchen until it shined because I had nothing better to do, didn’t exactly fill me with excitement.

The idea of spilling a little blood did.

Reaper’s phone rang, and he fished it out of his back pocket. “Sorry. Probably one of the kids wanting to say goodnight or something.”

I waved for him to continue and leaned back against my bike, watching the crowd who’d formed a fight circle with their cars, headlights all pointed in, directly at the two men going hard at it in the middle. I pushed up on my toes, trying to get a better look at the action from the back of the crowd.

I was like a kid at the Disney parade.

Reaper’s groan of annoyance into the phone caught my attention. “X, are you for real? How many times do we have to tell you to not try things you see on TikTok?” He sighed heavily. “I’m sure your eyebrows will grow back…yes, okay, I’m coming.”

He ended the call and turned to me. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“X nearly blew himself up again?”

“He saw a video where a girl used alcohol to blow fireballs or something, and I need to go get him from the hospital. Only first-degree burns though, so better than last time.”

I snorted on a laugh. Reaper was part of a big multi-partner family, and though he and X were not romantically involved with each other, there was still a love between them that shined through in the worry puckering Reaper’s forehead. His words and tone might have said exasperation, especially because X was well known for getting himself into all sorts of disasters, but I knew deep down, he was actually concerned.

I waved him off. “Go be with your family.”

He frowned at me. “But it’s your birthday. I don’t want you sitting back at the clubhouse alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll stick around here for a while, watch some fights. Maybe throw my hat in the ring…”

He frowned. “At the risk of sounding like your father, is that a good idea when you have to start a new job tomorrow? I only meant for us to watch. Not participate.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

He shook his head. “Yeah, all right. I heard it. I can’t help it, man. I’m a dad now. Apparently, I have to fucking care about people.”

“That’s entirely unsettling.”

Reaper nodded and toughened up his voice. “Go kill ’em!”

“Please go. You’re actually just embarrassing yourself now.”

“I really am. Later.”

I didn’t bother waving him off because I wasn’t his mother.

And because the shouts from the crowd had escalated and I wanted to see what was going on. I not-so-casually edged my way to the front of the crowd, just in time to see the final blow of the match.

The fighter went down hard and fast, clearly knocked out before he even hit the ground.