Chapter Five

The invitation had been unexpected. 

One moment, she was mingling at Lorenzo’s exclusive, her laughter blending seamlessly. The next, Nico had appeared at her side, his presence disrupting the carefully cultivated ambiance.

“Lorenzo wants you to see something,” he’d said, “follow me.” 

“Come on, finish him!” 

Elena hovered near the edge of the pit, her posture relaxed but senses on high alert. She felt Nico’s eyes on her, hot like a blade scraping across her skin.

Blood. Sweat. The roar of a frenzied crowd. The underground fight club pulsed with a feral energy that seeped into the walls, filling the air with the stench of violence and desperation. Men cheered and jeered, their voices blending into a cacophony of madness, as two fighters savaged each other in the center ring. 

“Enjoying the show?” Nico’s voice was low and dangerous. 

Elena didn’t flinch. “Not really my kind of entertainment.” One man went down hard, his face a crimson mask of blood. “I prefer something… less barbaric.” 

Nico’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Barbaric?” He nodded towards the ring. “These men are fighting for glory and for money, Ms. Romano. This is as real as it gets. But I suppose a woman like you wouldn’t understand that.” 

Elena arched an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised what a woman like me understands.” 

The smile slipped, replaced by a calculating gleam in Nico’s eyes. He straightened, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked her up and down.

The grimy underground chamber, the complete opposite of the elegance above. Where there had been silk and crystal, there was now concrete and sweat, the air heavy with anticipation and the acrid scent of blood. 

The fight club was very popular and well known to everyone that walked the other side of the law. It was one of the hottest enterprises run by the Salvatore brothers. Invitations were always random and limited and the slots taken as soon as they are opened.

Elena glanced around, keeping her expression neutral. She’s heard rumors of the high-stakes bets made by the patrons. The winners of the fight were adequately compensated, but most of the men risked getting maimed at these fights because it was considered a ticket that makes the transition into the Mafian much easier. The winners receive automatic invites and moved up in rank faster than the urchins and goons.

Nico watched her, his eyes never leaving her even as the fighters exchanged blows. Elena knew that he had lured her down here for a reason.

Her skin prickled, as if unseen eyes watched her every move. She was irritated by Nico’s childlike shenanigans, but there was something else. A malicious entity, one that she couldn’t see. It bothered her more.

“Lorenzo said he’d be down shortly,” Nico observed her intently. “In the meantime, I suggest we settle in and have a little fun?” 

A signal passed between Nico and one of the guards. The man grunted, motioning towards the ring. The two fighters were yanked apart, their bruised and bloodied bodies glistening under the harsh lights as they stumbled back.

Shouts and grunts of disappointment swept through the crowd.

Nico snapped his fingers. Two men appeared out of the shadows, their massive forms looming like mountains. 

“Nico, what is this?” she asked, keeping her voice level. She didn’t like the look in his eyes.

“Just a little initiation,” Nico replied, his smile never reaching his eyes. “We need to know you can handle yourself. Otherwise, you’re just dead weight.”

He nodded to his men. “Get her in the ring.” 

The two goons moved forward, their hands reaching out to grab her, but Elena was faster. She twisted, slamming her elbow into one’s throat while kicking out at the other’s knee. The first man staggered back, gasping for air, but the second caught her ankle and yanked her off balance, sending her sprawling onto the ground. 

The crowd erupted into jeers and laughter as Elena hit the dirt. She gritted her teeth, shoving herself up before they could get another hold on her. 

“Feisty.” Nico’s voice rang out, laced with mockery. “Let’s see how long that lasts.” 

One of the goons lunged, a meaty fist swinging towards her face. Elena ducked, moving with fluid precision. She kicked out again, this time connecting with his ribs. He grunted, but didn’t go down. Instead, he swung again—faster this time. She barely managed to sidestep, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. 

The other man circled around her, forcing her to split her attention between them. The crowd’s roars grew louder, a deafening wave of bloodlust.

Elena took a step back, calculating. She couldn’t overpower them—both men were twice her size, all brute strength and muscle. But she could outwit them. 

“Enough playing around,” Nico called out. “Finish her.” 

Elena moved on instinct. She dropped to the ground, sweeping out her leg to catch the first man off guard. He stumbled, crashing into the second. It was a brief opening, but it was all she needed. She sprang up, driving her fist into the first man’s face, following up with a brutal knee to his midsection. He doubled over, and she spun, slamming her palm into the second man’s nose. A sickening crack was followed by blood spurts; he fell back with a howl of pain. 

Elena stumbled back, her chest heaving as she fought for breath. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, her muscles burning from the exertion. The coarse dirt under her stiletto shifted with each step, grounding her as she sized up the situation. The crowd roared in the background, their voices blending into a deafening roar of cheers and jeers.

“Impressive,” Nico drawled, stepping forward. His eyes were dark with something like approval, though sharp and jagged.

He nodded, and one of his men tossed a knife into the dirt at her feet. “Finish him.” 

Elena looked to the man groaning on the ground, blood streaming from his broken nose. He was struggling to breathe. 

“What?” she breathed. 

“Don’t keep us waiting, sweetheart,” Nico taunted.

The crowd booed in agreement. 

Taking advantage of her distraction, the man lunged at her.

Elena moved on instinct, sidestepping his wild swing and slashing out with the knife. The blade caught his arm, drawing a thin line of blood. He snarled, swinging again—faster, more controlled this time. She ducked, twisting away, but he was relentless, pressing his advantage. 

The crowd roared as he cornered her against the ropes, his massive form blocking her escape. She needed to end this, fast. 

The man swung low, aiming for her ribs. Elena dropped to the ground, sliding under his legs and coming up behind him. She jabbed the knife into his shoulder, twisting just enough to send a wave of pain through his arm. He howled, spinning to face her, but she was already moving, using his momentum against him. 

With a swift kick, she knocked his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a thud, and she was on him in an instant, the knife pressed against his throat. 

The room fell silent, the only sound the fighter’s labored breathing. 

Nico spotted a thoughtful frown as he watched her fight.

“Enough.” 

Lorenzo’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade. The crowd parted as he strode forward, his expression closed. 

“Impressive,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving her. “But unnecessary.” 

Elena relaxed her hold on the knife. The fighter scrambled away, clutching his shoulder. 

“Tonight’s entertainment is over. Everyone out.” 

The crowd dispersed, murmuring amongst themselves, but as they left, Elena felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

“The way you fought, makes you wonder where you learned those tricks... or what it is that you’re hiding.”

Elena met his grey eyes, unflinching. “In a world full of men, you learn quickly, Nico. That doesn’t mean I have anything to hide.”

Nico’s jaw clenched at the sweet smile she flashed him. “You’re hiding something Chica...”

Lorenzo’s smile didn’t falter. “Everyone’s hiding something, brother. The trick is figuring out which secrets matter, and which ones are just smoke and mirrors.” He glanced at Elena, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“I understand that you are the boss, but let’s not forget who runs this place.” Nico sized his brother up. “The fight club is under my jurisdiction. You had no right to break that up.” He moved into Lorenzo’s space.

“She is my guest, so by extension, she’s under my protection.” Lorenzo stood deadly still.

Nico observed her looking at them and took a step back, his posture relaxing slightly. “Of course, brother. I just thought… a little fun wouldn’t hurt.”

Elena didn’t miss the look of defiance that crossed his eyes.

Lorenzo regarded him with a cool stare. “Not everyone is yours to play games with, Nico.”

Nico's smile returned, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Right. Let’s keep it business, then.”

“I’m sure Ms. Romano has had enough excitement for one evening.” Lorenzo continued, his tone decisive.

Just like it started, it ended abruptly. One last look at Nico and she was convinced that there was more to the entire situation. She wondered if Lorenzo understood the same.

“Not my rodeo.”

Together, they made their way back to the upper levels in silence, the distant thrum of music and laughter growing louder as they approached the party. But the atmosphere had changed. The veneer of elegance felt fragile now, like a porcelain mask that could crack at any moment.

Lorenzo paused at the entrance to the ballroom, turning to face her. His expression was inscrutable, his eyes darker than ever.

“You handled yourself well down there,” he said softly. “Better than I expected.”

Elena nodded.

“It’s only an observation.” He leaned closer. “But, I’ll be watching you, Ms. Romano. I don’t like surprises.”

“Good thing I’m not here to surprise you then,” she replied smoothly.

Lorenzo’s smile was slow, calculated. “No? Then what are you here for?”

A subtle movement caught Elena’s eye. It lurked in the shadows, near the edge of the ballroom, barely visible amidst the swirling lights and glittering guests. For a split second, she thought it was Nico, but the shape was wrong—broader, more angular.

She blinked and the figure was gone, as if it had never been there.

“Something wrong?”

Elena forced a smile, pushing down the surge of unease. “No, just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“I was thinking about your question,” she said, regaining her composure. “What I’m here for.”

Lorenzo’s frown deepened, but he didn’t press. “I’m sure you’ll let me know when the time is right.”

“Maybe. It’s been an eventful night, but now I must take my leave.”

Lorenzo watched the Sedan pull up just as she exited.

***

Elena pulled out her phone. “It’s me,” she said when the line connected. “We need to talk.”

A pause, then the voice on the other end came through, soft but wary. “What’s going on?”

“I think we have a foreign player in the game.”

Silence stretched on the other end, then the voice spoke again, calmer now. “Where are you?”

“Outside the Salvatore estate. I’m heading home.”

“I’ll come to you.”

Elena slipped her phone back into her pocket, exhaling slowly.

Tonight, the game had changed.