The Devil's Boxer (Minor Family Supremacy Series: Pete)

Chapter 6: Pete

    "We're fucked, aren't we?" I heard Porsche ask through my earpiece. Vegas and I were hunkered down behind a marble bar, smoke settling around us as random shots could still be heard throughout the building.

    We were supposed to be there just to talk, but of course, Vegas took offense when someone mentioned me in a derogatory way, and there we were.

    "You really need to curb your temper, my love," I hissed through my teeth.

    Vegas looked at me and smirked wickedly. "And let them get away with calling you names? I think not, darling."

    I rolled my eyes. Sometimes my husband could be so immature.

    "Are you guys dead?" I heard Porsche yell in my ear.

    Sighing, I tapped the button to respond. "We are still alive, and no we are not fucked. Vegas would never let me get hurt, and I would die for him."

    "What does that have to do with me or the rest of us?" Porsche whined.

    "Can you please focus?" Vegas said into his mic. "There's at least 4 more of them and it's almost 5 o'clock."

    "Oh, babe, you're right," I said, checking how many bullets I had left.

    "Let's end this quick," Vegas said to me, winking. "Our son is waiting for us."

    I pulled him in for a deep kiss, knowing that he was going to fuck my brains out later, and we jumped up to take out the rest of the targets so we could make it to our son's school play.

    We left the aftermath for Porsche to deal with so we could run home and shower. We didn't want Venice's teachers to call the police on us if we showed up covered in blood. That would just embarrass him.

    We made it just in time to find our seats just as the lights dimmed, smiling and waving at Macau, who had saved a spot for us right near the front.

    I opened the playbill, flicking through it until I spotted Venice's name, whispering to Vegas, "See, I told you we didn't have time to mess around in the shower. We were almost late as it was."

    "In my defense, you were giving me the eyes, Pete," Vegas whispered, smirking.

    "The eyes?"

    "The 'I need you to fuck me up immediately' eyes," Vegas expanded, earning harsh looks from the parents sitting around us.

    Quickly, I elbowed him, smiling a silent apology to those within earshot. Saving us from further issues, the curtain was finally raised. For the next hour, we were captivated by the cutest turtle ever to exist: Venice.

    When the play ended, all of us stood to applaud. Vegas whistled loudly to make sure Venice found us in the crowd, earning a big smile and an excited wave from our angel.

    "I feel like time has just flown by," I said, bumping Vegas with my elbow.

    "I know, he's gotten so big. It feels like just last week we were still changing his diapers."

    "Soon enough you two will be the ones in diapers," Macau said, laughing. He ducked as Vegas tried to reach behind me to smack the back of Macau's head. Once the crowd had settled, Macau leaned over to whisper, "How did it go today?"

    "Could have gone better. Vegas lost his temper."

    Macau grimaced broadly. "Someone hit on your or someone insulted you?"

    "Insulted," I said, hating how Macau guessed so easily. Vegas was easy for us to read.

    "What can I say?" Macau mumbled. "They mess with the devil's boxer, they're going to get burned."