Ruthless Prince (The Mancini Mafia #2)

Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

ELLIE

V incent is back to punching the workout bag like he has a personal vendetta against it.

“Careful or you’re going to get hurt,” I comment from the entrance of the home gym, carrying my yoga mat under one arm.

He glances over at me, and the way his eyes linger on my body makes me blush. I’m in my usual yoga outfit—a close-to-the-body crop top and high-waisted yoga pants. Before Vincent, I never would have seen anything scandalous about my outfit, but the way he looks me over makes me think I should have worn something else.

“I just needed to get some steam out. I promise I won’t hurt the punching bag.”

I give him a smile and set my yoga mat down. “How much longer will you be?”

“You can work out. It’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine, Vincent. But I’m about to do yoga, and I don’t think my father would appreciate you in the room as I do it.”

He steps toward me, and yet it feels like we’re toe-to-toe even though he’s across the room. “Yoga isn’t inappropriate.”

“I know.” But it is when you watch me do it .

Vincent chuckles, shaking his head. “Your father really doesn’t want me around you, does he?”

“He’s just trying to protect my virtue.”

“Is that what you have? Virtue?”

My cheeks turn hot again. “I was raised to be a good girl. Were you raised to be a good man?”

He keeps his eyes locked on mine in an intense gaze. “Not in the slightest.”

I gulp. “That’s sad, isn’t it?” I ask, sitting down on my mat for something to do.

“My father raised me to be a fighter. That’s all I’ve ever known.”

“Did he show you love, at least? I hope so.”

Vincent snorts. “Not at all. Igor wanted me to be a fighter, so a fighter I became. And look at me now. I just lost two fights in a row. I lost in the first round, and now, I’ll never get the chance to get close enough to Nico to ask him if he killed my father.”

“I could introduce you, remember?”

“And I said I didn’t want you involved.”

“Why not? Why do you care if I’m involved or not? We barely know each other, Vincent.”

“Because of the reason you just told me. You’re a good girl, and good girls don’t need to get involved.”

I stand back up. “What if I don’t always want to be a good girl?”

“Then I would say you need to be careful because you don’t want your father finding us alone together.”

What if Vincent just crossed this room and … what? Kissed me? How would I even react to something like that?

“Then you should leave so I can do yoga,” I respond, feeling proud of my comeback.

“Or I can teach you a few things.” His cocky grin makes my stomach flutter.

“Teach me what?”

He nods at the punching bag. “Have you ever used this?”

“No.”

“Then let me show you how.”

Curiously, I walk over to Vincent and let him show me the correct stance.

“So, raise your hands up and punch like this.” He shows me the move.

I copy him. “Like that?”

“Sure, but …” Gently, he grabs my hips and angles me away from the bag. “Stand more like that.” Is it just me or do his hands linger on my waist for a moment too long before he lets me go?

“I think I got it,” I say, my voice breathless. I punch and kick at the bag a few times. “I have to admit, this isn’t really my cup of tea.”

“That’s probably because you’ve never been angry enough you need to take your anger out on a punching bag.”

“You’re probably right.” I’ve lived a very cushy life, but I don’t like Vincent pointing that out. It makes me … uncomfortable in a way I’m not sure I fully understand.

“What are you angry about?” I ask him.

“My father.” He punches the bag. “Him dying.” Another punch. “Losing two fights.” Punch. “Not able to keep my promise and avenge him.” Punch.

I rest my hand on his arm, feeling his hard muscle underneath my palm. Vincent looks at me intently. “You’ll get the answers you’re looking for. Just don’t give up.”

The room goes silent as we lock eyes. Nothing else matters right now except for us.

Until my father walks into the room. “Vincent, there you are.” I quickly back away from Vincent and head over to my father.

“What’s going on in here?” Father demands.

“Vincent and I were just talking,” I explain.

Father looks at me for a long moment. “All right. Vincent, I need to talk to you. You’re back in the competition.”

Vincent blinks. “What?”

“The man who beat you, Bear, was found dead today. An overdose. So, you’re back in the competition. Just make sure you win this time.” The threat is obvious. If Vincent keeps losing, will my father make him leave?

The thought of Vincent being gone makes me sad in a ways I don’t fully understand.

“Oh,” Father continues, “and don’t be in the same room as my daughter when she’s dressed like that.” He gives my work out outfit an ugly sneer before leaving.

Tears sting my eyes, and I look down so Vincent can’t see them.

“You ok?” Vincent asks me.

“I’m fine. My father can just sometimes be careless with his opinion.” I force myself to look up. “What about you? You get to compete again. Are you happy?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel.”

No one has ever said something so fully relatable to me until this very moment.

VINCENT

The roar of the crowd makes the blood roar inside of ears.

I’m about to face off against a new opponent—a man nicknamed Viper. The last two times I’ve fought, I’ve lost. I won’t be given any other chances after this.

When I step into the ring, the crowd boos. In this world, you either keep the respect of the crowd or you lose it within an instant, and I’ve lost it. They think I’m going to lose again. It’s obvious from the looks of derision I am getting.

The only one who isn’t looking at me like that is Ellie, who’s in the audience with her father. I can’t lose this. If not for myself then for her. For some reason, I want to be around Ellie. I want to get to know her more. Seeing her almost cry the other day after her father made that comment about her outfit didn’t sit right with me.

I give her a small smile then turn to Viper. He’s already bouncing on his feet, ready to pounce on me, but I’m not going to let him. I’m going to win this time.

“Let’s fight!” Sebastian says.

Viper practically barrels into Sebastian on his way to me. I’ve been practicing non-stop for the past week to win this fight.

He tries striking at my eyes, but I kick him in the stomach, sending him sprawling back. I zip around the ring and land a punch to the back of his head. Viper snarls and wraps his arms around my stomach, trying to take me down. I slam my fist into his neck and knock him to the ground.

Using that to my advantage, I fall on top of him, slamming my elbow against his back. The sound of his cry makes me excited. This is what I was made for. What I trained for all my life.

I hold Viper down until he has no choice but to tap the floor three times, signaling he’s out.

I stand up, and the crowd continues to boo for me. They don’t care that I won again. It will take a lot more wins for them to come back around to me.

Sebastian raises my hand high, announcing me as the winner.

I drop out of the ring and am surrounded by women. I try to look for Ellie, but she’s not there, and neither is her father. They must have left.

A pretty blonde approaches me. “Hey, there.”

“Hey,” I respond.

Her flirty eyes are intense and say everything—this is a woman who wants to fuck.

And honestly, I want to fuck, too. Seeing as I won’t be able to fuck Ellie ever, I can’t spend my time thinking about her.

“What’s your name?” I ask the blonde.

“Rachel.”

“Ok, Rachel. Let’s go back to your place.”

Rachel takes me to her small, cramped apartment. “Sorry it’s not better.”

“No, it’s great. But I’m not here to talk.” I grab her face and kiss her.

“I’m not here to talk either,” she says, pulling away from me. “You were much easier to get alone than I thought.”

“What can I say? I’m a man ready to fuck.”

“So, let’s play, then.”

I expect her to kiss me, but instead, she pulls out a knife from behind her back and tries to stab me with it.

I jerk back and fall over her couch, landing on the ground hard. She gets on top of me and jams the knife in my arm, twisting it. I cry out, shoving her away.

But she comes right back. This woman is fierce.

“Who are you?” I grit out, standing up before she can pounce on me again.

“No talking, remember?” She pulls the knife out of me, and blood seeps from my wound. Rachel brings her arm high, but I grab it and force her to drop the knife.

Kicking her legs out, she falls into me, and I shove her to the ground where I get on top of her and hold the knife to her throat.

“Why the fuck are you trying to kill me?”

She stops struggling. “Someone wants you dead. Don’t ask me who. I don’t have a name. All I know is they don’t want you winning the competition.”

“So, they sent an assassin after me?”

“Pretty much.”

“All over some competition?”

“That’s all I know.”

I look down at her. “Then you’re useless to me.” I cut her throat right then and there. It’s not the first time I’ve killed someone, and I doubt it’ll be the last.

Someone wants me dead, but who? It all ties back to the competition. None of this makes sense.

And now, I have a fucking body to clean up.