Chapter 81: So...I May Have Challenged the Don to a Fight

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I locked eyes with Lorenzo. He held my gaze, unyielding. Behind us, Nikolai wore a look that suggested he’d just realized he was witnessing a collapsing negotiation, rather than a simple chat between employer and his spouse.

Lorenzo’s smile was still there, it was slow and annoyingly calm...while I was in the middle of regretting every word I’d just blurted out over the last few minutes.

All I’d wanted was to learn how to fight. Somehow, I ended up challenging a mafia Don to a duel.

There was probably a lesson about thinking before acting in there somewhere, but I was too busy trying not to look anxious to point I was going to beat my own ass up to explore it.

"So," I said cautiously, "what did you mean by making the training more interesting, Dracula?"

Lorenzo kept his eyes locked on mine. "I meant exactly what I said."

"That’s not really an answer."

"It is."

"No, it’s the kind of answer someone gives when they’re dodging the real response."

His grin widened. "You’re getting pretty good at reading me."

"It’s a matter of survival."

"I’d say so."

He took a slow step forward, and I straightened instinctively. He always seemed way too at ease, which was a problem.

Lorenzo never looked nervous when he had a plan.

Me? I looked nervous even when I was clueless about what was going on, so I was already behind.

"You’ll train with Nikolai for two weeks," he stated.

I blinked. "Two weeks?"

"Yes."

"That’s it?"

"Is that too long?"

"No, I just didn’t think you’d actually let this happen." I narrowed my eyes. "What’s the catch?"

His expression turned amused. "There doesn’t have to be a catch."

"With you, there always is."

"That stings, my own husband doesn’t even trust me."

"You’ll get over it." I crossed my arms. "Go on."

Lorenzo looked almost pleased that I was biting. "At the end of the two weeks, you and I will have a fight...a duel, if you will."

I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. "A... real fight?"

"A controlled one."

"With weapons?"

"No."

"Guns?"

"No."

"Knives? Oh! Do we throw knives at eachother in the courtyard?!" I asked excitedly, making Nikolai probably wonder just what exactly was going through my head at times.

"Alex."

"What?"

"We’re not having a duel in the courtyard."

I frowned. "That sounds like a damn letdown."

Nikolai made a sound behind me that suspiciously resembled a sigh.

Lorenzo continued as if I hadn’t spoken. "You’ll use what Nikolai teaches you. I’ll use what I know."

"And what exactly do you know?"

"Enough."

"That sounds ominous."

"Maybe."

I eyed him suspiciously. "And whoever wins?"

"The winner gets one wish."

My eyebrows shot up. "One wish?"

"Yes."

"Any wish?"

"Within reason."

I pointed at him. "There’s the catch."

Lorenzo chuckled softly.

"Okay. One wish, no refusals." He added, "Whatever the winner asks, the loser has to fulfill."

I glanced at Nikolai; he looked back at me. No words were exchanged.

Then I looked back at Lorenzo. "That doesn’t sound fair."

"Why not?"

"Because you’re you."

"That’s not an argument."

"It absolutely is, for all I know you could be on par with fucking Bruce Lee."

He tilted his head. "I have limited formal hand-to-hand training."

I nearly laughed. "And you expect me to believe that?"

"I only know the basics."

"Lorenzo, you run a mafia family."

"And?"

"You’ve been around armed men your entire freaking life!"

"That doesn’t mean I spend every morning tussling with them."

I thought about that. He had a point. Unfortunately, I didn’t want him to have a point. "So, you’re saying you’re not some secret martial arts champion?"

"No."

"Then why do you look so sure of yourself?"

"Because I know you."

That answer raised my suspicion again. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means I know how you act when you’re anxious."

"I’m not anxious."

"You’re talking faster."

I immediately shut my mouth. Nikolai turned his gaze away. Traitor.

Lorenzo’s smile widened. "And you’re rubbing your thumb against your palm."

I glanced down. I was. I stopped right away. "I do that when I’m thinking."

"You do it when you’re worried."

"I’m thinking."

"About losing?"

I glared at him, and he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

I tried to concentrate on the challenge.

Two weeks...training and a fight. One wish. That last part sparked something in my mind. If I won, I could ask for anything.

And right now, I wanted one thing more than anything...was my freedom.

A genuine divorce, not some promise, or another temporary arrangement. A real, legal end to this marriage that wouldn’t be easily torn apart.

My heart began to race. Lorenzo noticed, of course, he did. "What would you wish for?"

I met his gaze, not needing a second to think.

"A fucking divorce." His expression didn’t change. "A real one. One where you sign everything, release me completely, and never come after me."

The courtyard suddenly became eerily quiet. Nikolai’s attention shifted to us.

Lorenzo remained silent for a moment before slowly nodding. "Agreed."

I blinked. "That easily?"

"Yes."

My suspicion came rushing back. "Well? What would you ask for if you won?"

His reply came without hesitation.

"You." My stomach turned. Lorenzo stepped closer. "If I win, you will submit to me completely."

I stared at him, the light banter gone. His tone was serious, and the smile was absent. Just certaintye meant it.

"You already have me," I said quietly.

His emerald eyes bored into mine.

"No." The softness in his voice held weight. "You live here, you carry my name, you’re my husband."

His hand brushed against my face gently, his thumb brushing over the fading bruise on my cheek. "But your heart is still standing at the door, waiting for a chance to escape."

I couldn’t respond. Because he was right. I hated that he was right.

Lorenzo’s hand lingered against my cheek.

"If I win," he continued, "I want you to stop looking for a way out."

My throat tightened. "What does complete submission mean?"

His eyes darkened just a touch. "It means you stop resisting me on everything."

"That sounds suspiciously like slavery."

"It isn’t."

"It sounds like it."

I looked away, but he gently turned my face back. "You give me your trust. Your loyalty. Your future."

My pulse quickened. "A–and...my freedom?"

His expression softened. "You would choose me, and you will bear my mark and become my official mate."