Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 10

TEN

I ’m not proud of my actions the other night. Blackmailing Alanis into going on a date with me in exchange for keeping her secret wasn’t the best idea I’ve had, but if there’s two things I know about her, it’s that she’s a sucker for nostalgia and will never back down from a challenge. I figured the best way to address the elephant in the room was to give her a chance to channel her aggression and hopefully we can push past the animosity and get back to how we used to be.

Pulling up to the gym in my Aston Martin; I spot Alanis instantly. She has her hair down in messy waves, the dark tendrils framing her face. She’s wearing a leather jacket on top of a white top and black sports bra, with matching leggings that cling to the curve of her ass and make my dick thicken in my shorts.

“We’re really doing this?” she huffs as I step out of my car.

I twist my baseball cap backwards, pacing towards her with conviction. “I figured we could get the messy part out of the way,” I wink.

When I suggested boxing, I had two end goals—let Alanis release her anger out on me, and let her win. There’s no chance she’ll be able to beat me, but I’ve considered giving her the upper hand just to get her on top of me. Then again, she knows me well enough to know when I’m not giving one hundred percent, so I need to think out my strategy carefully.

“The messy part?” She frowns as we step inside the gym.

The scent of sweat mixed with cleaning products clings to the air, and the lights above us hum to life with staggered flickers as I lock the door behind us. I’m fortunate enough to own this place, so closing it last minute was easy enough. There are no classes on Wednesdays, and with only a skeleton cleaning staff—which I gave the day off—I’m not putting anyone out.

I dump my gym bag on the ground by the boxing ring and unhook a pair of gloves off the wall for Alanis, handing them to her while letting my eyes linger on her features. I take in the way her brows furrow, darkening her skeptical gaze. The way her luscious lips, that I’ve kissed a thousand times, press together. She’s the image of perfection, my perfect, my presh .

“Yeah,” I smirk. “Then we can get to making up.”

She rolls her eyes in irritation, but I see the glimmer of a smile as she removes her jacket.

“You hate me,” I shrug. “You want to make me hurt.” I gesture to the boxing ring again in answer to whatever question is waiting on her tongue. “First hit’s free.”

Those perfect lips tilt into a weak smile. Though she tries to hide it, I can sense the excitement bubbling beneath her skin. I’ve just handed her the olive branch of all olive branches; a golden opportunity. I’ll bet she can’t wait to inflict as much pain as she can on me.

“And what are these for?” she scoffs, raising the gloves I provided in the air. “To protect my nails?”

Her sarcasm isn’t lost on me, so I take the gloves from her and toss them onto the floor haphazardly. “You want to play dirty?” I taunt. I’ll happily take her up on the chance to get beneath her.

“Well I don’t play fair.” She arches a brow as she pulls her hair into a ponytail.

Game on.

I step into the ring and hold the ropes wide for Alanis to join me. Her shoulders bunch defiantly as her eyes land on me.

Okay, chivalry is clearly dead to her.

With a resigned huff, I let go of the ropes, which she takes as her cue to slip into the ring.

“So, how are we doing this?” she asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet and shaking out her muscles.

It’d be sensible to lay down the rules, identify the areas to avoid, but I know from the look on Alanis’ face that it would be pointless. So, the only thing I can say is, “No cheap shots. I’d like to keep the jewels intact.”

“Fine,” she replies boredly, raising her arms in a stretch. She leans forward to touch her toes, giving me the perfect visual of her ass.

Thankfully, my gym shorts conceal the majority of my desire for Alanis, but that won’t last forever once we get started.

“First one is free, right?”

“Huh?”

I barely have the chance to register her question before the power of her fist smashing into my cheek not only knocks me off balance, but stuns the fuck out of me. She totally blindsided me with that hit, but I’m not surprised, I’m impressed. We knew the stakes and rules were non-existent here. I know the rage she’s harboring. I just wasn’t expecting a hit that hard to come from her .

I shake off the shock, the residual pain still radiating in my jaw. “Nice hook,” I comment, rubbing the sore spot. The coppery tang of blood taints my tongue, and when I flick it across my lip, I can’t fight the smile that splits it further than she has. “But now it’s game on.”

I lunge for her with the precision and stealth of a panther, but she dips out of reach at the last second, swiping a leg through mine and tripping me up. Only the ropes of the ring prevent me from barreling over the edge, allowing me to push off and spin around. That’s the only shot she’ll get, because I’m revved up and damn competitive.

She’s got her small size on her side. If this was real boxing, she’d be KO’d on the floor. But I’m not a woman beater, even if it’s to make the competition fair. Nothing about this would ever be fair, but I’ll put in enough work to wear her down.

Alanis makes the first move this time, throwing a left jab, then a right hook. I avoid both with a smooth turn of my body each time. You lose more energy making big moves, and if she keeps attacking like she is, she’ll be out of breath soon. I have to give her props, though. She knows what she’s doing, knows how to defend herself. But does she know how to defend herself from me ?

She lunges at me a second time, closing the space between us to get a hit in. She doesn’t succeed. I block and parry each one, ducking and weaving until she’s roaring with rage. She lunges forward again, going for another jab that I catch in my hand.

She pauses, eyes blowing wide, and I smile. She tries to yank her hand back, but my move is precise and smooth. I wrap my fingers around her wrist and she fights back, twisting her body until her back presses against my chest and the gentle puff of her waning energy is the soundtrack to her inner battle. After all, it’s not really me she’s fighting. It’s herself.

“Let go,” she growls as my arms lock across her body tightly.

“Make me,” I growl in her ear.

I grunt as she rears an elbow into my ribs, winding me enough to loosen my grip on her. She pushes out of my hold, spinning around, and her foot hits me on the side of my head at lightning speed, knocking my baseball cap to the floor. If this was a cartoon, I’d definitely have birds floating around my head given the way I stagger sideways, temporarily off balance.

“Looks like I did,” she pants with a satisfied smile.

I shake it off. I knew what to expect going into this—Alanis has five year’s worth of pent up anger that she needs to work off, and I have the sadistic urge to take the hits just so I can be close to her. It’s working, albeit slowly.

Sweat starts to bead across her temple, and I can feel the heat of my own efforts and desire ramping up. I circle Alanis like prey, hoping she’ll take the bait. She has a dirty trick up her sleeve, though. She peels off her top, exposing her glistening torso that makes me want to lick every inch and ravish her.

Dirty trick, indeed.

She wipes her face with her shirt, heaving a deep breath as she tosses it over the ring.

“So it’s like that?”

“I told you,” she smirks. “I don’t play fair.” There’s a hint of playfulness in her eyes, but she knows exactly what she’s doing, and tempting me is damn near working.

Fortunately, two can play at that game. After seeing the way she looked at me in the shower the other day, right after our quick fuck, I now know she wants me just as much as I want her. So, I do the only thing any red-blooded male would do in my situation.

I peel my own top off and dump it on the ground.

Though I’m not as winded as she is, just looking at her is definitely working up a sweat. Her eyes darken and a familiar flash of desire coats her cheeks.

I’m aware that a lot has changed in five years. In more ways than one, I’m not the same guy who left the city for California. I’ve had time to build muscle; to refine it the way I want and even decorate my skin with tattoos. I see the subtle look of wary appreciation from Alanis as she licks her lips and tries to conceal every emotion going through her mind right now.

I don’t know if it’s subconscious or what, but it’s going to make this a lot harder than I thought. Pun intended.

“Are you going to continue drooling over me, or are we going to fight?” I tease.

She lets out a war cry; a beautiful symphony of unleashed rage and aggression. Alanis comes at me with all the strength and stealth of a tiger. She lunges and I prepare to duck the incoming fist, but at the last second, she twists her body and sends a kick straight into my stomach that sucks the air from my lungs. I double back, pride and shock zapping through my body like an electric storm as I keel over.

She uses that moment to deliver a knee to the same area.

“Fuck!” I grunt, managing to block her fist just in time by capturing her wrist and pinning her in a self-defense move, bringing her elbow behind her back. She lets out an angry whimper, but then she must realize I’ve given her enough room to slide out of the hold because she dips low and swings her leg, taking me out.

My body thuds against the springboard before she drops down to straddle me, her hands pinning my wrists on either side of my head. “You’re letting me win!” she growls.

“Am I?”

“Roman!” she barks. “Fight back!”

In one easy move, I pitch forward and roll. Now she’s beneath me, and with my weight, there’s no way she can get out of this position. But suddenly she doesn’t seem keen to escape. All the fight seems to have drained from her, replaced with harsh, lust-filled breaths.

I let the tension settle between us before I lean down to run my nose along hers. “What if I don’t want to fight?” I whisper.

She swallows thickly, her eyes dropping to my mouth. All I want to do is kiss her, but for once, I’m giving her complete control of the situation. This whole ‘fight’ was purely for selfish reasons. I might have had every intention of letting her win, but it was always going to end like this.

“Ro—”

A startled shrill cuts through her words, making us both jump at the sound. My phone rings out from my bag, and even though every fiber of me is telling me not to get up and take that call, I need to.

I drop my head in the crook of Alanis’ neck, relishing her scent and committing it to memory.

“Don’t,” she whispers her plea, but it’s too late.

I push up off the floor and head towards my bag. Pulling out my phone, I see Cillian’s name flash across the screen. With a backwards glance, I see Alanis stepping through the ropes of the ring. “I need to take this,” I explain with regret pinching my tone. She’ll probably take this as me choosing the syndicate over her again, but she fails to realize that those choices are one and the same. She’s part of this life, whether she wants to be or not.

Lani grabs her jacket from the bench, slipping her arms through the sleeves.

“Rain check?” I ask hopefully.

“If you can find me, Genovese,” she sighs, picking up my baseball cap from the ring and slipping it onto her head.

Just the thought of her wearing something of mine makes me hard. I’d much rather her be wearing nothing, but I’m not complaining. She hasn’t said no to seeing me again. Even though I asked for one date, I’m pretty sure I’ve just taken down another brick of her cemented wall.

All in good time.

I accept the call before it cuts off, taking a deep breath as I drop down on the bench and watch Lani leave. “Please tell me you have something for me?”

“Now, I wouldn’t be the best at my job if I didn’t, would I?” My uncle’s Irish lilt teases my ears. “It looks like the Russians are your biggest problem.”

“No shit,” I scoff.

“That little issue you had with hosts skimming profits? They were paying the Russians for protection. Clearly, Colombo and your absences were noted, and they took full advantage of that.”

“And what about The Laundromat?”

“I’m still looking into that, but my guess is the Russians were covering their asses and probably called it in themselves. If they’re not getting paid, they won’t want you to, either.”

“Makes sense,” I sigh. At least I can rest easy knowing they aren’t making a profit out of my businesses, for now. They’re still a problem I need to take care of at some point, though, because Haldon and Alvaro can’t handle all this shit on their own.

“I’ll keep looking into it. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, Kill. I will.”

We say our goodbyes, and I’m soon left with the bitter realization that my return to the city isn’t going to be quite as smooth as I’d originally hoped. Then again, they say that anything worth having doesn’t come easy, and anything that comes easy is usually not worth having.

Funny how that saying applies to all aspects of my life right now.