Falling for the Rival

Ch. 4: Someone Else's Circus

Romeo

Juliet Milton is bolder than I gave her credit for.

Although I don't think she'll follow up on her threat, I need more leverage than a few pictures. My gaze stays glued to her until she joins Ezra Lawton on the steps of the Science Building, then I pivot and stroll to the parking lot where Derek's already waiting for me.

"Where to, Sir?" he asks as I slide into the backseat.

I shrug off my coat and make myself comfortable. "Warehouse."

Derek eyes me with concern but thankfully says nothing. I'm well aware going to that part of the city in broad daylight is a risk, but I don't have a choice—not if I want to recover some of my money.

"I saw Miss Ashby earlier," Derek says as his Mercedes joins the rush hour traffic.

I sigh. "I saw her too."

"She seemed upset."

She was annoyed because her father chewed her ear off about the gala I didn't attend. My chest tightens, and the feeling of helplessness resurfaces.

Addison and I aren't exclusive—something my parents and her father don't know. We keep the facade for our families' sake, and while it didn't bother me a year ago, it certainly does now. Especially because Vincent Ashby is hell-bent on sticking his nose into my and Addison's business.

"She's fine," I tell Derek.

He nods, and we spend the rest of the drive in silence. When Derek parks in the alley behind the fight club almost an hour later, I grab my mask and leave the car.

After putting it on, I step into the warehouse. It seems empty without crowds of spectators cheering on the fighters, and my footsteps echo in the vast space as I bypass two guys sparring in the ring.

Hugh, the organizer of the fights, has his office in the back. The door is ajar. I knock once and cross the threshold. He's sitting behind an old desk, twirling something in his huge, tattooed hands.

When I see what it is, I burst out laughing.

"What are you doing with that thing?"

His head snaps up, and he smirks. "The Masked One decided to grace us with his presence. I was going to keep your winnings."

"Keep dreaming," I say, stepping further into the room. "Did you find out who pulled the stunt with the fake fire?"

Hugh opens his desk drawer. "Richie. He must want his ass disqualified."

He puts a wad of cash in the center of the table. I reach for the money, but then a word embroidered on the ridiculous toy he's holding catches my eye.

"Can I see that?" I ask, my pulse picking up speed.

Hugh hands it to me, chuckling. "I found it on the floor. I really hope nobody brought their kid to the fight."

The stuffed ladybug is small enough to fit in my palm. I fail to contain a grin as I flip it upside down and read the words Juliet Milton embroidered on its belly.

"I'm gonna keep this," I say. "I know who it belongs to."

***

The following day, I'm weirdly restless. Juliet's in for a huge surprise, and just imagining her face when she sees pictures of her tiny stuffed animal makes sitting through dinner with my family, Vincent, and Addison more bearable.

As we eat, I struggle to keep my eyes open and my mouth shut. For some reason, everything Vincent says today grates on my nerves even more than usual.

"Buying that building in New Jersey was smart, Felix," he tells my father for the third time. Next to him, my uncle Eli presses a linen napkin to his mouth, coughing. I fucking bet there's a smirk under it. He's as sick of Vincent's ass-kissing as I am. Addison looks embarrassed too. "Benjamin Milton must be losing sleep. Rumor has it he's been trying to find—"