Page 9 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

I winced in time with the guy next to me, and said, “That had to hurt.”

He nodded with a sharp jerk of his head. “Was probably for the best. He was getting his ass kicked from the minute he stepped in.”

“I only just got here.”

“You missed a good one first up. Really evenly matched.”

“Damn. Sucks I missed that.” I offered him my hand. “I’m Lynx, by the way.”

He glanced at me and then down at my hand. He reluctantly brought his hand up to shake mine. “Lynx? Your parents wildlife photographers or something?”

I sniggered. “Nickname I’ve had since—” I started leaving claw-shaped marks on the people whose lives I’d ended. Not that I could say that to this guy. Hot or not. “Since as long as I can remember. Don’t even know how I got it now.”

Lies. How easily they still fell from my mouth.

I kinda hated that about myself.

Maybe it came with the territory. Prison kinda made you a professional liar. And I wasn’t exactly a saint before I’d gone inside.

The man went back to scowling at the fight. But he did eventually say, “I’m Luca.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for a chat. So it surprised me when he added, “Sorry. I’m in a fucking mood.”

“Shit day?”

“The worst. I hate this town.”

I didn’t pry or try to defend Saint View. There wasn’t exactly much to defend. It was the slums, and only made worse by the fact that Providence, on the other side of the town border, was rich as fuck.

A couple of people from the crowd dragged the unconscious fighter across the gravel, out of the way.

A short bald dude with a rounded belly and a thick gold chain hanging around his neck stepped into the center. “Who’s next? Show of hands.”

I squinted into the light, debating whether to raise mine. Reaper hadn’t been wrong when he’d reminded me I had a new job to start tomorrow. If I fought tonight, there’d be a good chance of showing up for my first day with a black eye.

But my fingers fucking twitched to do something, anything other than wrap around motorcycle handlebars.

So I stuck my hand up in the air.

But it was too late. Gold Chain was facing the other side of the circle and pointing out people. “Jackson and…Dax. Seriously, man, you fucking here again? Go on.”

I dropped my hand, disappointment coursing through me.

Luca studied me from the corner of his eye. “You want to fight?”

I opened my mouth to say yes, and instead, what came out was, “I want to feel something.”

The realization of that statement fell into an awkward silence. I forced a laugh. “Wow. I just made that weird, huh? Sorry.”

Luca blew out a long breath. His gaze dropped briefly to my lips. “More than one way to feel something, you know. You don’t have to get your ass kicked.”

I blinked, not sure if I was imagining the vaguely sexual undertones of his statement and the way his gaze had lowered to my mouth.

Because he wasn’t wrong. There was more than one way to release the pent-up energy I’d had rattling around inside me ever since I’d gotten out.

Heat flushed across my skin.

Before I could think about it anymore though, Luca turned back to the fight, and I was left looking at his profile.