Damn, if I'd known dad would dump this on me I wouldn't have said yes in the first place... I huff, lazily looking around the venue from our private area upstairs seeing multiple guys scatter around down below to set everything up for later tonight. Since the pre-fights are starting today, everyone is on edge.

The last time the WMC went down it got interrupted by the cops, or so I was told. Personally, I don't give a damn if this whole event gets scrapped. As long as it continues, it just means more fucking work for me. I heave a sigh trying to ignore Mr. Pry's yapping in the background. He sure does like "prying" into other people's business, so I guess he lives up to the expectations of his family name... I think as I lean back on the couch while taking another sip of my drink before glancing back at Pry.

He's one of my dad's associates and gives us a lot of information about all sorts of things. He works as a banker and has a lot of influence in this town we can use to our advantage, simply because he's one of the higher-ups. Personally, I'd rather get rid of that imbecile sooner than later. I put down my glass barely unable to hide the irritation on my face any longer. For the past ten minutes, he's been yapping about all sorts of stuff. I'm getting impatient. My father obviously didn't want to tend to him either, that's why I got freaking stuck with it.

The only difference is that my dad is better with words than me. Truthfully, I'm a fucking pig. I'm supposed to follow in his footsteps, and all our subordinates are trustworthy and loyal to both of us. But I fucking hate politics. Of course, I know everything about the family business. There's no going around it, really. I accepted that a very long time ago, but unfortunately politics comes with the job as well.

Still, there's nothing I rather wanna do than shove the barrel of my gun down this guy's throat. I grumble, taking another sip of my drink trying to calm myself down. How can someone be so happy and ignorant at the same fucking time? I can't wait for the day I get to do the honors and learn him a lesson. Maybe I'll cut some of his fingers off? He can make do without a few. Tempting... I grin to myself as Pry keeps rattling to me about all kinds of stuff in a happy mood, or rather to himself.

I could shut him up in a second, the only problem is I don't wanna deal with the mess that comes after... I believe he's talking about his wife and daughter at the moment and I choose to ignore him for another few minutes. He doesn't even notice that I haven't heard a word he's said ever since he opened his mouth. Bloody idiot. I shake my head and take another glance downstairs to see that most of the preparations are done already. Micah, where the hell are you anyway?! I grumble to myself as I take another sip from my glass. I rather solve things with my hands than using futile words on this moron... Micah's my only chance, otherwise, I might end up doing something stupid. I'm counting on you and you were supposed to be here half an hour ago, dammit!

Dad snatched him away early this morning. I don't know what the hell he's supposed to be doing, but he has Sonny. So what the fuck does he need my right-hand man for? I haven't seen Micah at all since he left the mansion this morning. I tried texting him earlier on but he just said that he needed to run some kind of errand for my dad, that he'd be here in time. Punctual, my ass! They are definitely keeping me out of the loop, and I don't like it one damn bit! Dad looked like he was pondering over something this morning while he was in an unusually good mood. Which usually means trouble...

Another ten minutes drift by and I get more and more irritated by the second. Eventually, I decide to send my dad a quick text. *Need to talk. I'm getting pissed off that you keep using my men lately. Let Sonny do your damn dirty work. FYI: If Pry keeps yapping about his wife and daughter I'm gonna shoot him, his wife, and fuck his "lovely" daughter to death. Why do we keep him around again?* Irritated I place my phone back on the table. Seriously dad, what the hell are you plotting?!

Just as I'm about to sign at Marty to come over, I spot Micah coming up the stairs. He's in an awfully good mood for being so damn late. I squint with suspicion. As soon as he notices me, he flashes me a bright smile to which I can only scowl in return. Does he think he can get away with being so damn happy while I got stuck here with Pry?! Think again, brah. I send him a death glare as he sits down next to me on the couch, but Micah just grins back. What the fuck are you on?! I think as I can nearly feel a vein popping in my neck, but decide it's probably better to leave it be for the moment as I shake my head. I gotta deal with this other moron first.

'Mr. Pry. I get that you'd like to chat about this and that, but wouldn't you rather discuss what we came here for tonight?'

'M-Micah? When did you arrive?'

I can hardly contain a snort of laughter as Pry looks bewildered by Micah's presence. He truly is an idiot, he didn't even notice. I'm still annoyed, but also glad Micah skillfully gets Pry to shut up about his private life while I cross my arms and look at him.

'I just got here. But now that I am, shall we continue with the real topic we're here for tonight?'

'Perhaps your right, I'm sorry I always get carried away talking about my fam~'

I heave a sigh and before he can even finish his sentence I decide to step in. If I don't, I'll be stuck here till morning. For fucks sake. I flash him an eery grin as I open my mouth and start to speak.

'By all means, keep talking about your private life Pry... At least that way I'd know who I should target if you ever become my enemy.'

As soon as the words leave my mouth Pry's face turns as white as a ghost while Micah shoves an elbow in my side. Shut it, mister bloody easygoing. I warn him with my eyes before I return my focus to Pry and continue.

'If you want to chit-chat about the birds and bees you'd be better off talking to my dad, he has more patience than me.
...Or is it that you want to be discovered as our associate? If that's the case, I'll gladly help you out...'

I tell him in a boring tone as he quickly shakes his head in a panic. To easy. I smile and nod as Micah rolls his eyes at me. After that, we quickly get down to business. Micah takes the lead on the conversation with Pry while I listen. I only chip in when necessary.

They are all the same ...either deathly afraid or plain stupid. Whenever an outsider talks to us they ramble about a thousand things because they are nervous. I'm a person too you know, it's fucking annoying. Not a lot of people even dare to go against us. I know that we're a powerful family, but ...is this really all? I can't help but think to myself. Disappointing. I have money to drown in, but everything just looks ...grey. Born as the son of the head of the mafia in New Orleans, society's laws don't apply to our family. Our organization goes back over 400 years, it's my legacy. We live in a different world, ours has its own laws. I do a lot of shady stuff, and except for "one little miss-step" I can't say I regret anything I've ever done.

I don't hate my life, I have a best friend ...though he's a late dumbass. I think, grinning as I look over at Micah who's screening over some paperwork with Pry. The girls aren't bad either, they're just not interesting enough to keep. Most of them are thrill seekers. At first, they think it's "exciting". But eventually, they get afraid as hell once they realize they'll be staying with the "big bad mobster" and regret their actions, almost running away. The ones that don't? Well, they're brain dead and just pleasing to the eye, or a good fuck. No one ever made it past a one-night stand. I'm no fucking saint. I know that for sure. There's just missing ...something!

After half an hour, Pry stands up and takes his leave. At last. I sigh relieved and when I'm sure he's gone, I focus my attention back on Micah and grumble.

'What the fuck took you so long?!'

'I told you I had to take care of some things for Rusty, didn't I?'

He tells me with a grin. I narrow my eyes at him still wondering why he's acting so weird. He's clearly enjoying something, though he's trying not to show it. But before I can ask him I hear another voice calling from behind me.

'Boss.'

'Yeah, what is it?'

I ask as I turn around to see Marty, another one our my men, walking toward me from the shadows. He hands me a black book and places a black case next to me on the ground. Granting himself a seat opposite from me as I quietly open the book, swiftly going over the numbers before facing back up while I mumble in a low voice to him.

'Looks like a lot of bets for just a pre-fight.'

'I didn't expect it to be this much either, though word goes around that a fighter has unexpectedly returned to join the WMC.'

'Did you count?'

'Yeah, everything's in order.'

I nod at him and close the book laying it back down on the table as I tell him to go and fetch me another drink, and check out the crowd downstairs before I look back at Micah. Who's foolishly smiling at something downstairs. I follow his line of vision, but the only thing I catch are some locks of brown hair flowing mid-air through the door and into the back room reserved for the fighters.

'Stop eyeing up the ring girls for tonight, will ya.'

I sigh and Micah turns to me with a slightly surprised look on his face before he counters back.

'I wasn't eyeing up a ring girl. Or did you forget that's already your job, Luca?'

I grin at him. Obviously, I'm unable to deny I like to have sex with a smoking hot woman. I shrug. To me, those girls are the only highlight of being stuck here at the fighting matches. I shake my head trying to get those thoughts out. Hell no Micah, no diverting the subject. I look him straight in the eyes, clearly showing him my irritation as I ask.

'So what was the business my dad had to rattle you up for, exactly? You're supposed to be my right-hand man and bodyguard, remember?'

'Yeah, yeah... Bodyguard you from what though? Pry?'

He laughs and I can't help but snort at that comment as well. Like hell, I'll ever be worried about that idiot. I shake my head and growl.

'You know as well as I do that he'll be the one who needs to be protected from me, not the other way around. But that's beside the point, common, spill.'

'He wanted me to make a deal with the fighter Sonny encountered earlier.'

He states simply and I think back at the conversation I managed to catch between Sonny and my dad late last night. They did mention something like that. I don't know who the bloody moron is, to think he can blow off my dad. I nod irritated at Micah understanding what he's getting at as I snap.

'That still doesn't explain why you had to go. Dad has hordes of people running around for him, he should use one of them..'

'Awh, did you miss me that bad? Maybe Rusty thought my lovely charming ways would be a better way of persuasion?'

'Oh, shut up! Anyway, what did the guy say?'

Micah looks surprised for some reason and I lift an eyebrow wondering what it is that I said that was so strange... But before I can ask what's wrong he answers with a mischievous look on his face.

'He said, I should tell Rocco to ...shove it.'

I blink in surprise as Micah lets out a snicker of laughter. Does this guy have a fucking death wish or something? I can't recall anyone who ever had the guts to tell my dad to "shove it" besides my mother.

'Well, I'm sure that at this rate he'll meet his end soon.'

I snort, but Micah doesn't answer. Instead, he just lets out a laugh making me glance over at him and I notice his eyes are scanning the downstairs area again. I follow his gaze and see the room is quickly piling up with enthusiastic people that want to see the fights, which are about to begin at any minute. What a waste of time. I shake my head unable to understand the enjoyment people get from watching these fights while I pick up the black book again that Marty brought me earlier.

I guess their idiocy means more money for us... I snort to myself as I go over the numbers once more. Hmm... There are two names separate from the others, Stone and River. I wonder why? Asking Micah probably won't matter, since he's usually not involved in collecting the wagers. The same goes for the fights as well, I reckon he knows as much as me about it. There are a large number of bets made on Stone, which leads me to believe he's one of the big shots for the WMC.

I turn around the page and my eyes drift over the list of people's names that made their bets tonight searching for this particular fight, wondering how many there are. I go through the pages one by one, quickly scanning the names until my eye catches a familiar name. Micah? What the hell? Huh, and dad too? I want to ask Micah why he bid on Stone, and if he knows why my father bid on the same fighter as well. But before I get the opportunity Marty returns next to my side to discuss some other work. I take my drink as soon as he sets it on the table, and I place the book back before I ask.

'Any news from White?'

'Everything is quiet at the moment. We have people patrolling the area at all hours, no one's stupid enough to enter the Bayou at the moment. Not since the last killing.'

I nod while frowning a little. Bloody ignorant citizens, they're way too curious about that area. Though it's probably more because of the tourists than the actual locals that this happened again. The Bayou is a restricted area and we offer surveillance so that no outsiders enter. But still, there are always those who slip by and want to run toward their deaths.

'It shouldn't have happened in the first place, although I'm still glad that the people are scared enough to not go near that area for the time being.'

The music dies down and the referee starts talking in the background giving me a heads up that the fights will be starting soon. Marty and I go over some other stuff we need to take care of to kill the time before the fights start and the ruckus will become too loud for us to talk business.

'The guy in LA still hasn't made a move.'

I down my drink and set the glass on the table, clicking my tongue in disgust with that news.

'Tsk. This is why I don't want to do one-time-only deals with people who're further away, it's a pain when they don't pay up.'

'What do you want to do?'

I try to think for a second, although the commotion in the background is begging to distract me. Damn it! Can't they punch each other more quietly?! I murmur though I know that that's bullshit. Those people downstairs outside of the ring are the actual idiots, screaming and yelling as if their fucking lives depend on it. I sigh while rubbing my temples as I tell Marty.

'Just leave him be for the moment, he still has time. Keep in contact once a week through phone and make sure someone figures out his connections.'

Marty nods and we both look over to one of Sean's men. Who anxiously comes walking over to us, stumbling over his own feet. Bloody marvelous! Marty tells me he'll take care of it and I nod telling him to bring me another Jack when he's done. This noise is giving me a fucking headache. I groan, rubbing my temples now that the biggest part of my work tonight is finished and I can lay back a little to relax. Besides the shouting in the background that is. I grumble and quickly check my phone to see my dad answered my text. *Luca you should learn how to talk to your old man, dammit. And no! You may not kill him, nor fuck his daughter. He's still proven to be useful ...unfortunately. Besides, you should be done by now. Try to enjoy what's left of the night. ;)* Left of the night? I'm bloody stuck in here! And who the hell learned that old man what a fucking emoji is?! His happiness is freaking me the fuck out! I scowl and almost as if it's a disease I throw away my phone onto the couch. Micah's head snaps over to me for a second, but his vision also quickly gets drawn back downstairs. Yeah, what's with that anyway?!

'Micah, since when are you bidding on street fighters? I saw your name in the book earlier.
You've been acting all giddy and distracted ever since you've been back.'

'Huh? Oh, I just saw potential and took a gamble.'

'Haha! You? You saw potential? In what? You're horrible with gambling...
This'll be good.'

I burst out in laughter. But Micah's smirk only widens as he looks downstairs. At the same time, the crowd downstairs erupts in a frenzy deafening to my ears. What the hell?!

'Look, there's the fighter I bid on. Oh, and that's also the one I had to talk to earlier...'

Micah says smugly, his voice barely audible above the cheering crowd. I raise an eyebrow at his overconfident words, but still, they compel me to look downstairs. Wait ...what?! I stare blankly at the ring as I see a woman standing in the middle of it. She's wearing a boxing uniform and has wrapped some black old cloth around her hands. For some reason, I'm sure it was her hair I saw disappearing earlier into the back rooms. I just know it. ...She's Stone? For some reason, my eyes and brain can't connect that phrase. Micah bet his money on a woman? I wonder as I watch her. With her eyes closed, she bathes in the spotlight almost as if embracing something precious. And somehow ...I can't tear my gaze away from her.

'...'

It only lasts a minute at best, but I feel like I've been staring a hole in her. I don't even catch her full name, too occupied as I examine every inch of her. Trying to burn it in my memory as fast as I can. ...But why though? I don't even understand it myself. Never have I ever been this interested in knowing something, anything, about someone ...despite wanting to know more about her. My brain suddenly kickstarts with that thought and my head snaps over to Micah who's wearing the biggest grin on his face I've ever seen. Fuck.

'Well... That sure managed to shut you up within a heartbeat.'

I scowl back at him, but I can't deny that the word heartbeat causes me to trip. What heartbeat?! I grumble as I glance back at her for a second. The action almost makes me jump back a little, startled by the way my own heart starts beating against my chest as soon as my eyes find her again. Fuck! Frustrated with myself for acting like a middle age schoolboy I look back at Micah and mutter.

'She's a ...she.'

'Well, yeah obviously.'

He grins and I saddle back onto the couch drowning my whiskey all at once. I sure as hell didn't see that one coming. I can see in Micah's eyes that he's enjoying this to the fullest and he wants to torture me more about this, but the fight is about to start so he tares his gaze away from me and back to the ring. All the while still keeping that smug look on his face. He will explain, goddammit. I frown, cursing at him inside my head. Though all my thoughts get drowned out by the ring of the bell, signaling the start of the fight and my own eyes unwillingly drift back to her as well.

***

She takes on a defensive pose and her feet stand still, although her shoulders seem to move slightly. It isn't much, but I still notice it. Mesmerized by her, my eyes follow her every movement and ripple in her muscles. So much control. Absolute focus.

The other woman she's fighting tries to throw the first punch, but she easily dodges it. Before she gets a chance to recover "Stone" throws out her leg midturn, making the woman collapse. *SLAM!* ...Holy shit.

Somehow the woman manages to stand up straight after having been kicked on the weak spot of her knee. I know the weak spots of the human body, my line of work deals with that too... I think to myself as I continue to observe the fight. The woman has to be in pain from such a force. And sure enough, there's a small limp in her step. She notices it too, and it's almost as if her eyes sparkle at the sight. Still, I see ultimate concentration.

She anticipates every one of her opponent's movements, and soon enough the woman takes another swing at her. But instead of fully dodging it she takes part of the blow to her side and a shiver runs down my spine. *Thud!* The hit was worth it though, at the same time of impact she manages to land her own fist right at the woman's solar plexus, exactly at the middle of her chest. *POW!* I squint my eyes at the sight imagining the impact the other woman must've felt. That was so calculated, it's insane! Such a move could've caused severe damage if she'd only hit an inch higher. A small grin tugs on her lips as her opponent topples over in pain for a second. She did it on purpose ...she knew she could've damaged her body severely if she wanted to. The other fighter quickly tries to recover from it, scrambling upright, her breathing ragged from the impact.

I can see beads of sweat forming on both of them, making them glisten underneath the spotlights. I never knew it was this intense... I silently think to myself as my eyes stay glued to the battle.

They both manage to land two inaccurate blows on each other, without any real damage. But somewhere deep inside me, I can't handle the fact of seeing her get hit ...it just makes me feel on edge for some reason. Confused with my inner turmoil I continue watching the duo. She unquestionably has an advantage over the other woman. At the beginning of the fight, the other fighter still showed spirit, but the light in her eyes has dimmed. She's wavering.

"Stone" instantly profits from the opening she's given and throws her leg in the air kicking the woman full force against her jar. *SLAM!* Making the woman immediately tumble backward as she falls to the ground. Dizzy, she tries to pull herself upright. This fight is clearly over. I think and as soon as she gets up an arm lashes out toward her with a straight palm. Huh? ...Is she actually? I nearly jump from the couch as I see her arm swing toward the side of the woman's head. No, it can't be... The palm of her hand stops a mere inch from the woman's ear while "Stone" halts in her movement. Her hand still frozen right next to the woman as she collapses without the last blow ever landing on her. She stopped. If she landed that blow at the right angle? ...She knew. The bell rings as the voice of the referee shouts over the microphone.

'Knock out! Karma 'Smokin' Stone ...WINS!'

She sure is 'Smokin'. I grin as I breathe a sigh of relief I didn't even notice I was holding before blinking a couple of times, dumbfounded at what I just saw. That was ...something else. Shocked, my brain remains going into overdrive while I look toward the table seeing a brand new glass of whiskey set before me. When did that get here? I knit my brows in confusion and look around to see both Micah and Marty staring at me with a grin plastered on their faces. Fuck! I try to recompose myself and take a sip of my Jack to calm me down.

'You won your bet ...that was unexpected.'

I murmur and I hear Micah stifling a laugh as Marty answers flatly.

'Not really, she knocked out Sonny.'

'*cough* She *cough* what?!'

I yell, choking on my drink. I cough another couple of times to get the burning sting out of my throat while I focus back on Micah.

'Explain all of this, now!'

I demand. Micah doesn't seem to be the least bit interested in obliging, even though I eye him dangerously not to make fun of me at the moment. Still amused by the situation he sighs and begins to speak with a smirk on his lips.

'Her name is Karma and your dad stumbled upon her by coincidence. She was looking for a way into the WMC and Rusty has been trying to help her.'

'What do you mean, trying to help? I thought you said he told my dad to shove it.'

I glare at him for the misleading part he played in all of this. Micah shrugs back at me as he says matter-of-factly.

'I never said it was a man, you made up that fantasy all on your own. And she did, in fact, tell your dad to shove it. She also really did knock out Sonny.'

'Seriously?'

I ask still in disbelief, glancing back downstairs. But of course, she's long gone back into the changing rooms by now. I saw her strength with my own eyes, but still... Beating Sonny is no easy task. He may be better with a gun than he's with his hands, but he did some martial arts if I'm remembering correctly. Pondering over this Marty speaks up.

'Boss, this is no martial arts.'

He's right, she used what could've been deathly blows with almost each and every hit. There are different rules here and if her aim would've been off, even by an inch, that woman could've ended up in the hospital. Or dead even. She knows how to avoid deathly injuring someone while still dealing massive damage to ensure her victory. That's rather remarkable. After a few seconds, I mumble.

'I noticed.'

They tell me what they know about her so far. That she's just out of jail and known as a notorious fighter. Even that they discovered that a lot of men fear going up against her. Very intriguing... I turn away from them staring at the venue downstairs going over everything in my head. She stood up to my father multiple times and she doesn't seem to be afraid at all. Not sure if she's brave, or plain stupid... Suddenly my eyes spot a silhouette familiar to what I saw only moments ago. Only now she's wearing a long loose shirt, leggings, boots, and a beanie. I can't help but smile at her basic style, it fits her. She walks toward the bar and I quickly down my drink, informing both Micah and Marty I'm leaving for a bit before I stalk away.

'...Rocco sure nailed that one right on the head.'

As I walk down the stairs I hear Micah muttering something with a grin but I can't catch what he's saying, or maybe I just ignore it. All I know is that I want to get to know her.

***

I walk up from behind her and a shiver runs down my spine as soon as I catch her voice when she shouts up to Sean, trying to get her voice to resonate above the music.

'Sean! A bottle of Jack!'

You got good taste too. I smirk, leaning across the bar right next to her. She hasn't noticed me yet and I continue to study her as her impatient eyes keep trained on Sean. As if on cue, her shoulders tense up before she turns around to face me. She squints her eyes almost as if she's glaring. That's cute. I have no intentions of looking away, instead, I look straight back into her eyes. One side of my mouth curved into a sly smile.

'Can I help you?'

She asks, the tone of her voice dripping with annoyance. She's obviously trying to blow me off. Well, this is new... I smile even harder as I shake my head.

'I'm still not sure about that. But I could help you out with that though.'

I grin while gesturing at the bottle of whiskey as Sean sets it down next to her. She raises an eyebrow at me and snorts.

'And why exactly would I share it with you?'

'Because you've piqued my interest. That isn't something that happens every day.'

I tell her seriously. Though it sounds like a really lame pick-up line, it's the honest truth. She rolls her eyes and gives me a flat-out 'No'. Making Sean stifle a laugh and I immediately narrow my eyes at him with a warning. In the blink of an eye, he stiffens up and eyes me an apology in return. I can feel her eyes studying me while I tell Sean to get me a drink, not bothered by it at all. Instead, I let her take her time with it. After another second I turn back as she makes a sound somewhat between a sigh and a laugh.

'You must be Rocco's son.'

She says flatly, looking me straight in the eyes. So, you've heard of me. I grin before I lean in a little, loudly whispering to her.

'You've got some serious balls using my father's first name, you know that?'

It isn't a question, it's a statement. She truly has guts. She shrugs while taking a seat, pouring herself a glass of whiskey before drowning the content all at once.

'So what the fuck do you want now? The answer is still no.'

'Karma Stone, right? Luca.'

I tell her with a grin while extending my hand to her. She observes me with a dubious look on her face, eventually shaking her head with a laugh. Ignoring my hand altogether as she goes back to her bottle. Pouring another drink and I can only laugh at her reaction. Haha, you are something else... I pull back my extended hand with a smile and at the same time Sean puts down my glass. Surprised she looks over for a second as I pick it up, glancing at the golden liquid inside my glass. A Jack Daniels whiskey on the rocks. Curious, isn't it Karma?

'You copying me?'

She asks warily and I can't help but snort while I tell her amused.

'Not in the slightest. It's the only strong liquor I drink.'

I hear her mumble an astonished 'same.' before her guards go up again. It's adorable that she's always on guard. I catch myself thinking before I murmur lightheartedly.

'Ask Sean if you want. I didn't specifically tell him what I wanted to drink just now, because he already knows.'

'Just bloody tell me what you want already? I wanna enjoy my drink, in peace. I'm tired.'

'You didn't break a sweat.'

I counter back and she looks over. For a moment she even looks startled, but that fades just as quickly while she grumbles with a glare.

'I wasn't talking about the fight, now get on with it.'

Geh-eh, all those faces you're making only make me want to tease you more... I snicker, taking a sip from my drink trying not to show her my amusement.

'What I want, huh?'

I say pondering with a finger on my lip when I put my glass back down. She studies me thoroughly while unconsciously biting her lower lip. Damn! Don't go acting all sexy now, or I can't think straight. I swear to myself as I narrow my eyes at her almost as if accusing her of a crime when I tell her in a low voice.

'One night.'