Drago's Woman Read online

  The room was modern, all black and grey with sharp angles. A massive Picasso-style collage was framed on one of the walls. She walked around the room, finding a mirror above the dresser. Belled touched her face. The colors were coming out now—purple, blue, and green. She looked like a damn abstract painting herself. One of her eyes was still horribly swollen, but her lips were a bit better.

  She examined her knuckles, clean but scabbed over. Her entire body was a canvas for punishment. Old scars littered her body, so she wasn’t worried about a few more imperfections.

  Belle sat on the edge of the bed, remembering her conversation with Drago last night. He thought her baby’s father had used her, maybe even been paid to fuck her. The thought churned her stomach. Drago was right, of course—men never wanted her. The truth hurt, but it was a fact. Men were intimidated by a strong woman, and many thought her personality was abrasive. There were countless thin, beautiful ring rats at the matches, so her natural curves were a turn-off for most men, too. She hated herself for falling for the first prick to show her attention.

  She blamed the loneliness. After leaving home at twenty-one, she’d been on her own in every way. No one supported her decision to leave the ring. Her parents disowned her. It seemed too perfect when Mikey showed up out of nowhere, ready to make all her dreams come true. Everything had been an act. She’d been more angry than brokenhearted when he walked away. The fact he left her knocked up, had given her a purpose, helping her to keep moving forward.

  There was a knock on the bedroom door, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned around as Drago peered inside. “You’re up,” he said.

  She nodded, determined not to be a bitch today.

  “How you feeling?”

  Belle shrugged. “Like shit, I guess.”

  He smiled and entered the spacious room, walking over to the window. He opened the blinds, the bright sunlight pouring in. She shielded her eyes.

  “You sleep well?”

  “The bed was really comfortable. I slept like a rock. This isn’t your room?”

  “Mine is at the other end of the hall. This is a spare,” he said. “You hungry?”

  “A little.”

  “Come on out to the kitchen. You should eat something.”

  She looked down at herself. Belle was wearing one of Drago’s oversized t-shirts. She didn’t have anything but her fighting wear to put on.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You certainly don’t have to impress me, and there’s no one else here.” Drago left the room, so she followed.

  The condo looked different in the light of day. Or maybe she was clear-headed enough to take everything in. He’d done very well for himself. His place was huge, and the far wall was all windows. The view over the city was spectacular.

  She entered the kitchen, the tiles cool against her bare feet. A large flat screen had been set to a news channel.

  “Have a seat,” he said.

  Belle sat on one of the stools at the granite island. It felt odd being in Drago’s home. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. She wondered if her parents had tried to contact her. Maybe they were disappointed she wasn’t dead.

  He brought over some buttered toast on a plate with some blueberries. “Sorry, it’s all I have. I don’t usually eat at home.”

  “It’s great,” she said. “Thank you.” As she nibbled the toast, he sat across from her. He hadn’t shaved, and his stubble was coming in thick, giving him an even rougher edge. She wondered how old he was. Wondered why he was living alone. Belle had no doubt he could get any woman he wanted. There was something dark and appealing about him, and even she’d been mesmerized when she’d seen him fight in the past. He kept his body in top form, and he didn’t take shit from anyone. But he had no one, not even children.

  The politics on the news bored her. Drago commented on one of the stories, and it surprised her how comfortable she felt around him.

  “I recognize him,” she said, pointing at the man in the gray suit.

  “From where?”

  “He used to come to our house to see my dad. They’d talk in his study.” She still remembered the night she’d seen him out behind one of her matches. It had been just before she moved out on her own. He’d been forcing himself on a teen girl, and when she called him out, he got in his car and drove off. She still believed he would have raped the girl if she hadn’t gone out back to cool off after her match. Maybe that behavior would shock a normal person, but her life had been anything but normal. Belle was used to nasty old perverts drooling at ringside. Too many girls she knew sold themselves if the price was right, but that wasn’t something she could ever agree to. She just fought, waiting for the day until she could get away from it all.

  Drago narrowed his eyes, focusing more on the television. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  She shrugged, eating a few blueberries. “He’s an asshole. One of those creeps that preys on girls at matches.”

  He turned to her, slapping his hand on the granite to get her undivided attention. “Did you see anything? Talk to him? Try and remember any details.”

  “Does it matter? I caught him going after a new female fighter. I scared him off though.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “Sure. Everyone knew me around the ring back then, especially because of my dad. Now I want the world to forget I existed. I just want to move far away from all the bullshit. As soon as I get my kid, I’m gone.”

  “This isn’t good.”

  “I don’t why you’re so shocked. You know how it is, the same as me.”

  “That shit is running for office. That changes things,” he said.

  Belle wasn’t sure what he was getting at. What did it matter? Most politicians were crooked. It was nothing new to her.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to talk about the news. I want to talk about my daughter.”

  Drago’s features softened, as if realizing she wasn’t comfortable. He took a deep breath, then focused on her, ignoring the television.

  “What’s her name?”

  She paused before answering. “Ava.”

  “That’s beautiful. Does she look like you?”

  A frog tightened in her throat. Just thinking about her little angel brought back all her worries and concerns. She’d avoided talking about her this morning, but she’d planned to ask Drago about their next step after breakfast. “She’s blonde, and yeah, everyone says she looks like me.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  Belle nodded. She had to think positive, had to believe this would all end up well.

  “Carlos brought over some clothes for you when you were sleeping. They’re on the sofa.”

  She’d been so mean to Drago’s friend, and he’d only been decent to her. “I’ll get changed. Thanks for helping me out.” Belle was becoming too dependent on a virtual stranger. What she needed to do was find Ava. She didn’t have time to sit and chat with Drago. The first place she’d visit was her family home. Her father had to have a damn heart. She’d done everything he’d wanted, and if he wanted a tenth fight, she’d give it to him.

  Belle changed and made herself as presentable as possible. She examined her face under the bright lights in the bathroom. The swelling was going down, but the bruising was terrible. She took a deep breath, testing out her ribs. It would take a long time until she was back to her usual self.

  When she opened the bathroom door, Drago was standing there wearing a black leather jacket. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

  “I can’t stay here forever. I have to deal with this.” She attempted to walk around him, but he blocked her way. If he was anyone else, she wouldn’t be concerned, but this was Drago. If he didn’t want her to leave, she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

  “Running to Daddy? He’s the one to arrange this bullshit.”

  She shoved him in the chest, but he didn’t budge. “You wouldn’t understand. He just likes to be in
control. If I agree to his terms, he’ll give my daughter back.”

  “I thought you wanted far from this lifestyle.”

  “I’m a mother now, Drago. I have to think of her first. You wouldn’t understand.” She shouldn’t be this anxious, but if he trapped her in his condo, things would only get worse. Her father would think she’d planned this and was purposely avoiding him. Then he’d get vengeful. Her father wasn’t a good man.

  “Listen to me.” He grabbed her shoulders, holding her in place. “This is bigger than your dad squeezing a few more dollars out of you. Let me figure things out before you do something stupid.”

  “I don’t have time on my side. And, once again, this is my problem, not yours.”

  “You’re still hurt. Have you looked in a mirror? You’re no good to anyone in your shape, Belle. Just rest up, get better, and let me find out more. No one’s going to hurt your kid.”

  Belle really didn’t want to hear his logic. Even if she suspected her father arranged a death match, it didn’t change a thing. She needed information. If she knew where they were keeping Ava, she’d fight her way in and get her back. She’d never been afraid of pain.

  “You’re not keeping me here!”

  ****

  One week later

  Carlos handed him a manila envelope. “That’s everything,” he said.

  “The kid?”

  “Out of town somewhere. Staying with one of Randal Aiello’s shakers. They’ve got her in lockdown. Trust me, I tried to find her location, but no luck.”

  Drago clenched his fist. Belle’s father didn’t even bother keeping his own granddaughter under his roof. He’d shipped the baby off to one of the assholes that worked for him breaking bones when payments weren’t made. He didn’t like it. “I’m starting to think I didn’t miss out on much being an orphan.”

  “The Aiello family is cutthroat. Anyone who challenges them, disappears. They even have cops on their payroll. This isn’t going to be simple,” said Carlos.

  Drago opened the envelope and leafed through the pages. There was a shitload of information on the father of Belle’s kid. Just looking at the mugshots made Drago cringe. He didn’t like envisioning her with any man, especially a piece of shit like Mikey McKinny.

  “He’s tied with Aiello?”

  “Nothing big, collecting bets at matches. Errand boy shit,” said Carlos. “But, yeah, they’re connected.”

  “Her father sent him. I have no doubt.”

  “He had a healthy bank transfer when Belle was in her early pregnancy.”

  “That’s probably when the asshole took off. Classy,” said Drago. He didn’t want to upset Belle with all the new information he’d gathered and confirmed. They’d finally developed a mutual understanding.

  The first few days he’d forced her to stay put for her own damn good, and she’d been a fucking devil. Now she saw the logic in healing herself before she could help anyone else, and they’d been civil with each other. Her bruises had faded enough she could cover them with makeup, and her strength had been returning rapidly. She was a firecracker, and he didn’t dare turn his back when she was in the room.

  Drago had confirmed Belle’s father used Mikey to drag her back into the lifestyle, using her kid as a pawn. Fine, he’d figured that out the first night. What didn’t make sense was why she’d been slated to fall. She was supposed to end up in the morgue.

  His thoughts kept returning to that prick on the news. Politicians didn’t like having skeletons in their closets—especially ones they could easily eliminate. Belle’s father was the type of man who would sacrifice his own flesh and blood for money and status. It made Drago sick.

  “Can I come upstairs?” asked Carlos.

  Before this week, they usually spent their fair share of time kicking back in Drago’s condo. Since Belle had been staying over, they’d meet in the posh lobby, usually when she slept.

  He shook his head, returning all the paperwork into the envelope. “Now’s not a good time.”

  “I thought she was on good behavior now,” Carlos asked.

  “Yeah, and I want to keep it that way. She’s been improving rapidly, so she won’t stay put much longer.”

  “No offense, man, but why? I mean, who is this chick to you?”

  Drago ran a hand through his hair. That was the million-dollar question. Even Carlos, his best friend, couldn’t understand why he was putting himself out for some girl he’d only spoken a few words to in years. He wished someone could answer that question for him. He knew the answer though. And before he left the circuit, they’d been through a lot together.

  “I felt sorry for her. That’s all.” He couldn’t even look the bastard in the eyes. “Thanks for this. Call me later.”

  He walked to the elevator, leaving Carlos in the lobby. How could he explain what was going on to his friend when he didn’t even know himself? Drago was known for taking, for keeping neutral, not upheaving his entire life for a young fighter. One with sad eyes and the fullest lips. Fuck!

  Drago entered his condo a few minutes later. It was only just past lunch hour, but he’d taken off when Belle had hit the shower. Even though things between them had been improving, he didn’t trust her enough yet.

  The scent of strawberry and vanilla was infused in the air. She’d completely transformed his masculine domain. The bathroom door was open, so he hoped Belle hadn’t taken off.

  “Belle?”

  When he didn’t hear a response, he checked the spare room she’d been staying in. Carlos had brought a bunch of her stuff from her apartment, so she had all the comforts of home. It was quiet, so he pushed open the door.

  Belle squealed, twirling away from him and grabbing a towel from the bed to wrap around herself. “You could knock,” she said. She hadn’t been naked, just wearing her bra and panties as she combed out her hair. He was no choir boy, so she shouldn’t be worried.

  Instead of leaving, he entered the room. She still faced the mirror, so when he came up behind her, he towered over her in size. He rested a hand on her bare shoulder.

  “I have some good cream for pain and bruising. I used to slather that shit on after every fight back in the day.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Take the towel off, Belle. Let me see.” For the brief moment she’d been uncovered, he saw some seriously black bruising. He felt responsible for her. She had no one else in the world. He wanted to be that person for her, the one he’d needed but never had. Maybe more.

  “Are you kidding?”

  He gritted his teeth. “Listen, little lady, I just want to check where you’ve been hit. It looked bad.”

  “I’m fine, Drago. I don’t need coddling.”

  He left only long enough to get his herbal remedy. “Drop the towel.” He sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned her closer. She came toward him on command, which shocked the hell out of him. When she was in front of him, he tugged away her towel.

  “Drago!”

  “I can’t fix it if I can’t see anything. Relax. You have nothing I haven’t seen.” He pulled her closer with a firm hand to the side of her waist, and then got some cream ready. “You really took a beating. Does it hurt?”

  She shook her head. “Pain doesn’t bother me. It’s just my body.”

  He frowned. “Your father teach you that?”

  The room was too quiet.

  “How do you make a person love you, Drago? My father wanted a beast, and I gave him what he wanted,” she said. “Guess that wasn’t enough.”

  He didn’t respond. Drago gently rubbed the cream into the sides of her ribs and stomach. God, her skin was soft. He’d fucked his fair share of women over the years. He was pushing forty, so he wasn’t short on experience. But, damn, Belle was something different. She was strong and vulnerable in equal parts.

  Her hair was usually in braids or a tight bun when she fought. Now it was loose, falling all the way down to her ass, heavy and damp. Her thin white bra and panties made him think of h
er as a woman, not a hard-as-nails force.

  “He doesn’t deserve you,” he said. Drago wanted to pull her closer, to kiss her stomach, and a hell of a lot more.

  “Who?”

  “Nobody. Not your father, your ex … or even me. You’re too damn good for any man.”

  “We both know the truth about Ava’s father. No one wants a woman like me. I’ve only ever been good for one thing. Now that I stopped fighting, I’m disposable.”

  “Don’t say that.” His hands drifted lower, until he had her by the hips. He wanted he tell her she meant something to him, but she’d only think he was after sex. Drago didn’t want to come across as another asshole ready to take advantage of her.

  “It’s true.”

  “You’re special, Belle,” he said. “I remember watching you in the ring years ago. Even then, I could see you didn’t belong.”

  “I was the best,” she whispered.

  “You were meant for better things. You’re not like them—not the other girls in the ring, not your family, no one in the lifestyle. After I retired, I always hoped you’d choose to walk away.” He painted small circles over her skin with his thumbs, not willing to release her just yet. She hadn’t pulled away.

  “I did.”

  “And now you’re back,” he said. “After this is over, I want you to leave. Go far away with your daughter. Forget the ring, forget your father, forget me.”

  For the first time, she moved a muscle, reaching out to touch his face. She wasn’t an affectionate woman, always stifling her emotions. Maybe it was an act for the ring that she couldn’t leave behind.

  He looked up into her eyes. They were so fucking blue that he swore he was drowning.

  “I don’t want to forget you,” she said.

  Chapter Five

  Belle wasn’t used to anyone caring about her. Her father simply saw her as something he could use and trade for more money. She wasn’t a pretty woman, nor had she been a beautiful child. In fact, many times he’d called her ugly, useless, disgusting. They’d been words she was used to, so she knew she wasn’t special. It was why she lapped up the attention like she was desperate when Ava’s father came to her with all his sweet lies.