Paisley reached over and clasped my hand. I’ll be your witness, and you’ll be mine. We’ll fill the holes.
Jagger chuckled. Trade the real fights for virtual reality shit, so all the tourists and wannabe hardasses in this town can sit in their simulation rooms and pretend they’d last more than half a second in the cage.Rune wasn’t amused by the possibilities either, although he doubted Jordana would do any of those things to La Notte. He had to admit, the future of the club was nothing if not uncertain. And given what he knew about Jordana now, he couldn’t imagine holding on to a business that profited from violence and debauchery was high on her priority list.
The other men were right. They needed to know where La Notte stood now that its proprietor was gone.Vallan’s face was grave. Been nearly a week and no one’s stepped forward to take the place over or shut it down. We’ve all been talking that maybe we should make other plans before someone else makes them for us.Move on, Jagger said. Go find another arena, or start a new one of our own.
Rune shook his head as he came up off the barstool. No one’s leaving. No one’s going off to fight somewhere else so long as I’m here.Vallan crossed his arms over his massive chest. You’ve been acting as manager since Cass’s death, but how long are you gonna look out for a business that doesn’t belong to you?
It was true, the club didn’t belong to him. Never had. Rune had never aspired that it could.
He and Cass had built it together—one providing the venue, the other providing the spectacle that would keep the crowds coming back for more. It had been a profitable arrangement. Rune had managed to accumulate close to a million dollars from his fights and shares of the gaming proceeds Cass took in every time Rune climbed into the cage.The warriors picked off the trio of Riordan’s men one by one.
In the sudden quiet, the other shooter held up his weapon in surrender and slowly limped out from behind his cover. The immense, dark-haired male was gravely injured. He had a makeshift tourniquet tied around his blood-soaked thigh and was bleeding from too many other places to count. His face was bruised and lacerated, his eyes bleak, but hot with amber fire.Jesus Christ, Aric gasped. It’s him. Carys’s fighter.
And from the look of him, he’d been busy taking on his father’s thugs alone until the Order arrived.Chase lifted his face shield. Where’s Carys?