Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Wow, this place is insane!” Brielle says, forcing Dominick and me apart. “About time I get to watch Matteo in action.”
“You’ve never been?” I ask her.
“Nope, I was too young and innocent.” She glares at Dominick. “They’d never let me go anywhere or do anything.”
“It was for your own protection,” Dominick notes.
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “I can’t wait to see Matteo kick some ass.”
“Both Irvin and Matteo are undefeated,” Dominick says. “It’s going to be a damn good fight.”
“And who are you betting on?” I jokingly ask.
“I have a hundred K on Matteo,” Lorenzo says, walking over with his arm hooked around a beautiful woman’s neck.
He reaches over to Dominick, and they do that weird handshake-with-a-bro-hug thing guys do. Then, he introduces us to …
“This is my fiancée, Hillary,” Lorenzo says, smiling adoringly at the woman, who smiles and shows off her ring. “I proposed last night, and she said yes.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her, standing and giving her a hug. “I’m Peyton, and this is my fiancé, Dominick.”
Dominick gives her a slight nod with no smile, and I glare at him to be polite. Both he and Matteo have mentioned they’re not fans of Lorenzo’s girlfriend—who is apparently now his fiancée—but she seems nice enough.
We’ve only just sat back down when Hillary says, “So, Dominick, Lorenzo tells me that you’re partnering on the waterfront expansion in South Harbor Point. That’s exciting.”
“I’m here to watch my brother fight,” Dominick says tersely, “not be interviewed.”
When I glance at him in confusion, he says, “Hillary used to be a reporter.”
My eyes widen at that tidbit of information because why in the world would Lorenzo be dating a reporter of all people when they have so much to hide?
“I’m retired,” she says with a forced smile.
“Oh, what do you do now?” I ask politely, refraining from asking how a woman who looks to be in her twenties can already be retired.
“I’m in between jobs. I moved here from Georgia—”
“Really?” Dominick asks, cutting her off. “I could’ve sworn you were from Coral Bay, and I don’t believe getting fired for not showing up to work is the equivalent of retiring. But I could be wrong.”
“Oh! I’m from Coral Bay,” I tell her, trying to ignore Dominick’s rudeness. “New Town. How about you?”
She swallows thickly, her eyes darting between Dominick and me, and there’s clearly something off with her, but Lorenzo obviously cares about her, so I’m not about to ostracize her, like Dominick is doing.
“Yes,” she says slowly. “I moved from Georgia to Coral Bay for a job, but the producers and I didn’t see eye to eye, so they let me go before I could quit. And now, I’m trying to figure out what I should do next.”
“I totally get that,” I tell her. “Any ideas on what your next move will be?”
“Based on the size of that ring, I’m thinking trophy wife,” Brielle deadpans.
“Bri!” I hiss, wondering what the hell is wrong with her and her brothers.
Dominick snorts out a laugh, and Brielle shrugs.
“Stop your shit,” Lorenzo says, glaring at Brielle. “Nobody has said a word about you being home for weeks now and doing nothing with your life, so don’t judge others.” He protectively wraps his arm around his fiancée, who I notice flinches but quickly schools her features. “Hillary is working as my assistant while she figures things out, and she’s doing a damn good job.”
Brielle shoots daggers at Lorenzo, but thankfully, the music gets louder, and the lights lower slightly, indicating the start of the fight. Usually, on televised fights, there are several smaller fights leading up to the main event, but apparently, here, there’s only one fight.
Since we’re above the people on the ground level, we can see without standing, but that doesn’t stop me from getting up and walking toward the front so I can get a better view of Matteo fighting.
It’s been years since I’ve watched a fight—since my parents were still together—and as he gets announced and walks out with the music pumping and his entourage flanking him, I can’t help the way my heart pounds in my chest. I know Matteo isn’t my dad. He would never hurt anyone he claims to love. But that doesn’t stop my brain from connecting the two. I wanted to be here to support Matteo, but now, I’m wondering if that was a mistake.
Thankfully, Dominick comes up behind me and encircles his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“So, how much did you bet?” I ask, watching as the other guy comes out and gets booed.
“I don’t bet,” he says. “I hate him fighting, but it’s what he feels he needs to do to exorcise whatever demons he has, so I support him.”
“You’re a good brother,” I tell him, reaching up and kissing the corner of his jaw.