Falling for the Rival

Ch. 7: Lies and Envelopes

Romeo

"You know the rules." Hugh tosses a thinner-than-usual wad of cash onto his desk and leans back in his chair. "You lost money, but I lost even more. What crawled up your ass out there?"

My jaw works. Damn it. Juliet achieved her goal—I forfeit my first fight because of rushing to her rescue like a loser, and fucking Richie used my lack of focus to beat me for the first time ever in my next fight. Rage had distracted me from the pain, but now it's strong enough to make me wince as I reach for the money.

"Dixon got you, good, huh?" Hugh chuckles darkly, running a palm over his bald head. "People might bet on him next time."

In his fucking dreams. I take a slow breath, trying to calm down—I don't want Hugh to see how mad I am.

And all because of Juliet.

Why did she come to the fight in that fucking dress, and how dare she bring Lawton with her? If I didn't know he's gay, I would've thought he had it bad for her.

Hugh arches his pierced brow, and I snap out of it. "Nobody's gonna bet on him. He was lucky."

"So were you. His punches were vicious. I didn't expect you to get up."

"I need to go." I shove the bills in my pocket. "See you..."

Fuck. The gala I need to attend is next Sunday, and the Miltons will be there. I can't bail, but after losing one of the fights, telling Hugh not to count on me next week is even less appealing.

"What?" He crosses his arms over his chest. "You'll be here next Sunday, right?"

"I can't."

Hugh groans. "I should've known once a woman was in the picture, you'd lose your mojo."

A woman? More like a thousand problems wrapped in a tight dress. What a fucking headache.

"I lost nothing," I say. "I just have something on Sunday I can't skip. I've never missed a fight."

"Fine." Hugh pushes to stand with a deep sigh. "It's gonna be Richie's lucky day. Without you, most will place their bets on him."

I ball my hands into fists at the reminder. This mess has just gotten bigger, and I have Juliet to thank for all of it. She shouldn't have come here, and she sure as hell shouldn't have told Lawton about the fights. I don't trust her, but I trust him even less. Nothing stops him from running his mouth. One word to the wrong person, and I'll be exposed.

I need to do something to make sure both of them keep quiet.

"Later, The Masked One." Hugh slaps my shoulder on his way out. I follow him into the already deserted warehouse, doing my best to ignore the searing pain in my torso each movement brings.

As I step outside, a lighter clicks. Amber flame flickers, and Richie's snicker breaks the quiet as he emerges from the shadows, bringing a lit cigarette to his mouth.

"Nice limp." He takes a drag and throws his head back, releasing a stream of smoke before facing me. "Will Juliet kiss your boo-boos? She'd make one sexy nurse."

"Get lost, Dixon."

My words earn me a bout of derisive laughter. "It's good to see you lose. I hope your little distraction comes to the next fight."

He's goading me, trying to make me lose it so he can confirm he's gotten under my skin. Despite knowing his intentions, irritation boils my blood, warming my face beneath the mask.

"Where'd she come from?" he goes on. "She's not one of the regular spectators, and she looked uncomfortable."

He rubs his chin as if trying to piece together fragments of evidence.