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Fight

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Chapter 11: Fight (Anastasia's POV)

I was under the misconception that I could keep my patience when it came to Dante Rossi. Today certainly proved me wrong. He was unreasonable, rigid, and so incredibly difficult that I truly believed working on this case was going to be impossible. 

We never got along in the first place, but after everything that happened in the past, things were now ten times worse. Clearly, Dante was having a harder time leaving the past where it belonged, in the past. 

It took every ounce of me to put things behind me, be mature, and work with him like two adults should. But today's events threw all that out the window. 

Grabbing the duffel bag out of my passenger seat, I got out of the car and walked into Judas, stopping to greet Mr Eliot. "Hello," I sighed, dropping an arm on the table as I signed my name on the register. 

"You've just walked in, and you're already sighing," he mused. 

I swear to God, the amount of times I've sighed since I met Dante again is ridiculous. 

"It can't be helped, Mr Eliot. Some people bring that out of me," I told him. "Is Ronan here?" 

"You've come to train at nine in the evening?" he asked. 

"I need to blow off some steam. Ronan just happens to be my favorite punching bag," I smiled. 

He chuckled, "He should still be in the kickboxing room. But he might be packing up to leave." 

"Thanks," I said, heading straight for the room. Pushing the door open, I walked in and, as expected, found Ronan packing his belongings, sitting on the first bench. 

As soon as he looked at me, he began shaking his head. "No, Anastasia. Absolutely not." 

"Come on," I groaned. 

"I'm going home," he said, emphasizing each word. 

"Only an hour," I bargained. 

A dry laugh escaped him, "I've been training you for a year now, it never ends with you." 

I dropped my bag beside his and stood before him. "I desperately need to blow off some steam, Ronan." 

"There are other ways. Go do some cardio." 

"I hate cardio." 

His eyes twinkled with amusement as he glanced up at me. "That's not the kind of cardio I meant," he smirked. 

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, lightly nudging his foot with my own. "Come on. I won't take too long." 

"I really have to get home, Ana." 

"Is your wife waiting?" I teased. 

"Actually, she is," he said, standing up and grabbing his bag. "I never keep a lady waiting. Take your gloves, there's the punching bag. If that's not enough, give cardio another thought," he taunted, grabbing the top of my head and giving it a shake before walking out. 

Ronan had been working at Judas for a few years and training me for the past year. Amara hired him, and he was the first kickboxing trainer she brought to Judas. He was thirty years old, looked years younger than that, and was happily married. That and he trained all the female FBI agents who came to Judas. 

I let out a breath and moved to grab my pair of boxing gloves since Ronan wasn't here to wrap up my knuckles, and went straight for the punching bag. After warming up, each breath I released landed in a stronger, harder punch against the sandbag. 

Until last year, I rarely ever came to Judas and trained at the FBI quarters instead. But to no one's surprise, that industry was still very male-dominated, and working out there as one of the few female agents with no male partner resulted in a whole lot of catcalling and unwanted flirting from the male agents. 

It was a petty issue to me, so I never brought it up with Marshall, but once Dante had left, I stopped training there and started coming to Judas instead. The male chauvinism in my office building truly sickened me. 

I continued landing blows and kicks at the sandbag, growing tired with each move I made, but I wasn't quite done yet because all I could think about was Dante. Thoughts were racing in my mind, a jumbled puzzle of every moment we'd ever spent together. Thoughts of the past and the present. I wouldn't leave until the rage bubbling inside of me had simmered. 

Of course, I would have preferred to take it all out on Dante... 

Isn't it always best to get things like this out of your system? 

But the thought of being near him at the moment was too overwhelming, so the punching bag and the memories playing on a loop in my mind, enraging me, would have to suffice. 

"Christ, Ana!" Scott groaned as he rolled over on the mat, clutching his abdomen. "You've knocked the air out of me." 

A small laugh poured out of me, "I didn't kick you that hard, did I?" 

Pushing off the mat beneath us, he rose to his feet. "You think?" he asked sarcastically, letting out a low breath. 

"Sorry," I smiled, handing him a bottle of water. 

Shaking his head lightly, he walked off to grab his towel. 

"That was rather violent," came a familiar voice. 

I knew it was him without turning around. Dropping my towel on the bench, I spun around to face the entrance just as Dante walked into the gym. "Really?" I asked. "I didn't think it was that bad." 

An amused smirk tugged at his lips as he stalked forward, dropping his bag on the ground before stepping onto the mat, eating up the distance between us in just a few strides. "Why are you training with Scott?" he questioned, briefly glancing at him over my shoulder. 

"You weren't there," I shrugged in response, moving to grab my bottle. 

Dante's grip on my wrist was firm yet gentle as he pulled me back, his other hand casually resting on my waist. "So you went to someone else?" he asked. 

"I needed a partner to train with," I replied, "not that I owe you any explanation, Mr Rossi." 

"You can be rather impatient at times, Ms Vitalio," he replied. 

I lifted a brow in question. Taking a step forward, I rested a hand on his abs, my palm slowly gliding down until I reached his waistband, and he caught it, stopping me from going any lower. 

"There are people," he mumbled. 

"You're not the only man in this world who can give me what I want," I told him. "You weren't there... so I got what I wanted somewhere else." 

Realization settled in his gaze as he whispered, "Oh, is that how it is?" 

"Absolutely." 

"And?" he prompted. 

"And what?" I questioned. 

"How was he?" Holding my wrist, he began undoing the hand wraps I had put on. "Better than me?" 

I watched him wordlessly. The longer I spent with him in that room full of people, knowing I couldn't put my hands on him, couldn't feel his hands on me, the harder it grew to breathe. 

"You may be a very good liar, but I can read you like a book, Mia Cara," he smirked, running the pad of his thumb over the back of my hand. "Clearly, you're not just talking about training here. Do you really think anyone could fuck you better than I do?" 

I couldn't help but blink in surprise, trying my best to hide the way his blunt words had affected me. They only turned me on more, if anything. "You're only tempting me to find out," I told him as he dropped the wraps in my palm. 

"Don't bother, you'll only be wasting your time." 

Lifting my brows, I feigned interest. "Really?" 

"Mm-hmm," he nodded. 

I began, "Maybe I should—" 

"Meet me in my office in five minutes." 

I stared at him in disbelief. All this time, we had never done anything at work. It wasn't exactly... allowed. "What?" I sputtered. 

"Four minutes," he corrected with a smirk, tilting my chin up with his knuckles before spinning on his heels and walking out. 

"Goddamn it," I groaned, pushing the punching bag away as I caught my breath and moved toward the bench. Ripping the gloves off, I rested my elbows on my knees and held my head in my hands. 

It had only been a few days, and he was already playing with my mind as he always would. It was what he did best. 

Wiping the sweat off the nape of my neck using a towel, I moved to sit on the ground, resting my back against the bench as I tipped my head back. 

Days, only a few days had passed, and I was already craving something I shouldn't, something that was so far out of my reach I could never have it again, no matter how desperately I wanted it. I had to remind myself that things couldn't just go back to the past, not after what he did. 

I wasn't even sure anymore what about his actions hurt me the most. Whether it was the fact that he hid the truth from me and lied or the fact that he disappeared without so much as a word. It was wrong of me to expect that of him... wasn't it? There was nothing between us, we weren't together, we didn't... care about each other. At least we never admitted it. 

Technically, I had no right to be mad at him, he didn't owe me any explanation, but when he walked out of my life without ever saying goodbye, I couldn't help the way it hurt. Uncertainty always surrounded Dante, and everything that came with him was an unsolved riddle I had to work through. He was a puzzle with several unanswered questions surrounding him. 

All these years and I still didn't know everything about him. How he became a part of this world, his past, nothing. He was just as much an enigma to me as he was to the rest of this world, just as much a stranger to me as he was to everyone else. 

Perhaps I was the fool to think whatever we had was at least worth a little more than that. Enough for him to let me in only a little, just like I had. But he never told me anything. No stories of his past, no answers to all the times I asked about the scars on his back or the tattoo inked along his side. 

Talking to Dante was always such a fight, such a battle. He never opened up, and I'd come to terms with the fact that he never would. But it was a fight that exhausted me a year ago. I wouldn't make the same mistake twice. 

This was work... and that was all it could ever be with him.

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Chapter 11

So many of you sent me messages after I said I was demotivated in the last chapter and omg I just wanted to take this chance to say that I literally have the best readers ever. You guys keep me so motivated, and your words were all I needed xx

next ch: invitation