Hours later, when everyone had left the gym and the lights were turned off, I crept from where I had hidden in the bathroom and hunkered down on a training mat in my private training room. This gym would now be my home, until Durov was dead.

As I shut my eyes, Kisa’s face came into view, and a young boy’s voice started to echo through my mind…

You have to keep away from Alik, Kisa. He’s obsessed with you and he’s dangerous…

My eyes snapped open and a fractured image fixed itself in place.

Kisa? The boy in the memory had said Kisa.

Chapter Eleven

Kisa

The Dungeon was full. Men, thirsty to gamble for high stakes, leaked into the tunnel leading to the dank underground warehouse on the docks of Brooklyn. This place was well hidden from the public, normal everyday people who like to think that nothing sinister was happening under their noses. People who believed organized fights to the death were fiction, fantasy played out on TV. They were happy in their ignorance of my reality.

But the people here, now, they were criminals, the dregs of society. I came here every day of every week, but the next three nights were what The Dungeon was about—the prime fighters, the men who put on a show and died. They gave their all, they spilled blood, and they drew their very last breath in this place.

The Dungeon was what we Bratva were best known for. This was the biggest gambling ring on the East Coast.

As the Byki lined the outskirts of the basement, keeping control, the cage was center stage. I stayed in the back rooms, hearing the thudding of feet on the ancient stone floor. The excitement for spilled blood, for death, charged the air.

The Red kings, my father and Ivan, were in their private booth at the back, hidden from view but able to oversee their enterprise and watch their money rolling in. Abram would be with Alik. He always hovered close, pushing him, goading him, then watched his puppet from beside the cage.

There were eight fights tonight, the latter ones involving Raze, then Alik. They were both fighting strong, headline fighters. I fully expected both of them to win, but here in The Dungeon, nothing was a safe bet. Alik was experienced and full of confidence, and Raze? Well, Raze was a complete unknown, but the place was buzzing with the anticipation of seeing him fight. Papa had told Ivan of his skill in the cage, and Ivan had built up the hype.

Raze had trained all week, my father becoming a fixture at the gym to watch him. He was fast becoming Papa’s favorite. That fact only served to made Alik even more furious, more unstable, more possessive, and Abram wasn’t happy about his son’s newly arrived competition either.

And me? I had become completely obsessed with Raze. I watched him train through the blinds of my office window when Alik wasn’t in the gym to catch me. My body set on fire simply at the sight of his bare torso bending and flexing as he lifted weights or sparred in the cage or ran on the treadmill. My heart pounded and I often became lightheaded, such was the draw I had toward this man.

My every thought was overcome by him. Raze was always the first one in the gym and the very last to leave at night. It was as if he didn’t even leave. He had one focus: becoming the best fighter we had. And making things worse still, he stared at me when no one was looking. The men talked about Raze. About how he never looked anyone in the eye. About how fiercely he trained. But when I passed by, when I had to speak to the coaches, he watched me with those brown-smudged-blue eyes, tracking my every move, like he only saw me. His muscles tensed solid when I was near. His nostrils would flare as he inhaled my scent. But he never spoke. Never communicated. Just watched…

Always watched me, prompting goose bumps to spread like wildfire on my skin, evoking familiar nervous/excited stirrings in my stomach that I hadn’t felt since I was in my early teens.

“Five minutes,” I abruptly called as I rapped on the first fighter’s door. The coach yelled back that he heard me, and I walked down the hallway toward Alik’s room. He needed me there before every fight. Said if he didn’t have me close, he would lose his mind, couldn’t focus and couldn’t win. Said he needed to know where I was so he could keep me safe. Truth was, he couldn’t stand seeing me around other men and the Dungeon was full of them. It was just easier to give in and do as he said rather than have him stressed, which might affect his upcoming fight.

He needed me. It was that simple.

As I neared Alik’s door, a flash of movement caught my eye. I spotted Viktor leaving Raze’s room up ahead, and I ground to a sudden halt. Raze would be in there, alone. It was his first fight, and I wanted him to be okay. A heart-wrenching twist of my gut almost brought me to my knees when I thought of him losing tonight. A pain so severe it left me breathless.

Why was I so attracted to him? I didn’t know him. Nothing about him made any sense to me. He was wild and untamed, severe and animalistic. I knew he wasn’t Luka, couldn’t be my Luka, but a feeling deep inside told me to keep pushing to find out.

Of course it was irrational. Of course it was stupid. Of course it was impossible. But when your heart’s so deeply involved, logic flies straight out the window.

I glanced at my watch and noted I was early; Alik wouldn’t be expecting me for five more minutes.

Five minutes.

I could have five minutes with Raze.

Making sure he was prepared for tonight. At least this was the lie I told myself to excuse my erratic and dangerous behavior.

I hadn’t seen Raze yet today and my chest ached because of it. Viktor brought him here to the gym. Alik had me jailed in his bedroom all day, fucking me over and over and over. One time he fucked me so hard my thighs were bruised and my throat was sore from crying.