Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
I giggled. “Mom, you realize I won’t be in the cage tonight, right?”
Mom huffed. “You two shouldn’t gang up on me. And trust me, Aurora, seeing a fight on screen and seeing it live are two very different things.”
I had watched only one recorded fight a couple of days ago. It had been one of Dad’s old fights, and it had made me squeamish. Not because of the blood—I had no trouble with that, but the brutality with which Dad had acted had unsettled me. I only knew a different version of him. I could only imagine how much more impressive it would be to see a live fight, especially as I’d heard stories of how brutal the fights of the trio were.
My phone beeped with a message from Carlotta.
On my way.
I smiled in relief. I had worried that Carlotta would bail. She wasn’t too fond of blood and definitely didn’t enjoy fighting as much as her sister, Gemma, did, who had had fight training when she was our age. Diego would drive her to the fight, though. He was in the arena more than any other Camorrista because of his wife, Antonia, who had inherited the bar from her father, Roger.
I got up and regarded myself critically in the mirror. It had probably taken me way too long to decide what to wear to an event where nobody would be dressed up or pay attention to what I was wearing. Eventually, I’d settled on tight black jeans and a burgundy off-the-shoulder crop top.
“It’s cool inside the arena. You should put a cardigan on,” Dad said pointedly.
Mom rolled her eyes. “It’s sweltering in there. She’ll be fine.”
I bit my lip, close to laughing. The doorbell rang, and Dad opened it after a look at the camera. Nevio stood in front of the door. It was the first time someone other than Carlotta picked me up at my door. Usually, I went over to the Falcone mansion when I spent time with the trio. This felt oddly like a date, even if I knew it definitely wasn’t.
Nevio was dressed in black pants, a black tee, and black sneakers, nothing out of the ordinary, and his grin wasn’t as tense as I would have expected on the night of a fight.
Dad appeared behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. His expression was hostile. He acted as if Nevio and I had a date, and he had to scare him to behave. My cheeks warmed, and I nudged his side inconspicuously with my elbow. What was his problem? He could see Alessio and Massimo in the car in front of our house. This definitely wasn’t a date.
“Get Aurora to the arena safely.”
Nevio didn’t seem overly concerned by Dad’s threatening undertone. “Massimo is driving, and I don’t need road rage to get me in the mood for a bloody fight.”
Dad shook his head, one corner of his mouth pulling up in a way that suggested he knew.
“Come on, Rory, before your dad delivers a few more threats he picked up in chick flicks.” Stifling laughter, I stepped up beside Nevio and followed him to the car. He opened the back door for me so I could climb in. Now this really felt like a date. A date with his two best friends along for the ride…
“We’ll arrive shortly after you,” Dad said as a way of goodbye, making it sound more like a warning than a mere piece of information.
“Not if Massimo races through every red light on the way,” Nevio shouted as he closed my door, then hopped into the passenger seat. Dad gave him a look that suggested he would join his opponent in the cage tonight and give him a thrashing.
Nevio waved, and with squealing tires, Massimo pulled the car away from the driveway.
I looked back to see Dad still watching our departure. He was pissed.
Nevio turned up the music, something about a “pelvis being on fire,” which made me pull a face—because of the lyrics and the melody.
“A good night for a fight,” Nevio mused, his arm propped up on the rolled down window as the wind tore at his hair.
Nevio didn’t seem to be in fight mode. He was relaxed and in a joking mood, as if we were heading to a party.
I was surprised that he didn’t take this fight seriously. Massimo was silent and focused. Maybe that was because he was driving, but I had a feeling it had more to do with his fight, and Alessio had earphones in, and his eyes were closed. That was how I imagined someone to look who was about to get into a potentially life-threatening fight. It happened a few times a year that people died in the cage, and in recent years, the number had grown. From what I heard, it was mainly because of Nevio’s fights.