Page 17 of Anton

Thankfully, just when I needed them, Nick and Derrick appeared.

“Hey, sweetie,” Nick greeted me, kissing me on the cheek.

“Hi, Nick,” I replied, trying to shake off the tension.

“Derrick, this place looks amazing. I’m so proud of you,” I said, pulling him into a hug.

“It does, doesn’t it? Derrick’s got a great eye for detail,” Nick added, his smile full of pride as he looked at Derrick.

“He has indeed,” I agreed, smiling warmly at Derrick.

“I learned from the best,” Derrick said, dipping his head slightly towards me, and I beamed back at him, feeling a rush of satisfaction that he thought I was worthy of that accolade.

“The dark blue tablecloths were my contribution to the décor,” Nick said, his grin widening.

“Yes, dear, your contribution was invaluable,” Derrick teased, chuckling as he leaned over to plant a kiss on Nick’s cheek.

My eyes flicked to where Claire and Luca were kissing in a dark corner, completely oblivious to the fight and everythinggoing on around them. Like the guys beside me, their ease with public displays of affection was both enviable and heart-wrenching, and once again, I wished I could find what they had.

“Did you guys place a bet?” I asked, needing to distract myself from the sexy blond soldier who kept invading my thoughts.

“We did, on Vlad of course,” Derrick said with a wink.

Nick leaned down and whispered, “And I also put the same amount on the Irish guy. You know me, I like to cover all bases,” he added, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips.

I shook my head and laughed at our ever-cautious Nick.

A screen lowered on the far wall, offering those of us standing at the back of the room a good view of the entertainment.

“It’s about to start,” Derrick said, nudging me and gesturing toward the Irish guy entering the ring with a microphone.

The place buzzed with excitement as he introduced the contenders. Sean O’Brien, the Irish guy, entered first to raucous applause from his supporters, with a great deal of good-natured jeering from the Russians. The Irish were definitely a rowdy lot. It was obvious from the way many of the usually stoic Russian men banged loudly on the tables and shouted in support of their man that they weren’t about to be outdone by their new allies. I grinned widely and added my voice to the mix when Vlad made his entrance.

The two men squared off, milking the moment for all it was worth, obviously enjoying the attention and the anticipation of a good match to come.

The Irishman acting as referee held up his hand, and the crowd quieted down before the match commenced. Sean’s first blow was easily dodged by Vlad, but it was clear from the outset that the Irishman was taking the offensive. He was bloody relentless. Vlad took it in his stride, backpedalling and parrying each blow with methodical efficiency. His smile and the amusedglint in his eyes told me he was relishing the chance to tire his opponent out. He was mesmerising to watch.

“Come on, Vlad!” Trigger yelled, and the crowd erupted as Vlad landed a right hook to Sean’s jaw. Blood flew from Sean’s mouth, and I winced at the sight, yet couldn’t pull my eyes away.

The atmosphere was electric as the bare-knuckle fight unfolded before us. The crowd roared with each brutal punch, the sound echoing like thunder in the high-ceilinged venue.

My skin prickled again, and my eyes sought the source once more.

Anton was nearer the front, but he wasn’t watching the fight. Instead, his gaze was fixed on me, intense enough to send a shiver of pleasure through me. Why was he looking at me like that? I wished he wouldn’t. His continued mixed signals were my undoing.

I averted my gaze, desperately trying to focus on the adrenaline pulsing through the room, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Anton.

After not seeing him for months, I figured it’d be easier to move on. But now, here he was, staring at me. The tension between us hung like a noose, tightening with each passing moment. I didn’t know what to make of it.

“So, where are you heading on your big date tomorrow night?” Nick asked over the noise.

“Well, I’m not sure I—” I began, but Derrick interrupted, sensing immediately that I was having second thoughts.

“Marcie, you should really go on that date,” Derrick urged, nudging my arm as we watched Sean double over from the force of a punch to the gut, the shockwaves rippling through the audience. I winced, feeling an unexpected pang of sympathy for the fighter, as if the blow had landed squarely in my own stomach.

“I don’t know…” I hesitated. The idea of going out with someone else while Anton’s presence still lingered in my mind felt wrong.

“I’m not sure I’m ready. I haven’t dated in so long, I’ve lost my confidence.” The fighter recovered from the blow, shaking off the pain, but I wasn’t sure I could do the same. Anton’s rejections had been hard to bear, and I had to admit, they’d knocked my belief in myself. To be honest, between that and my stalker situation, I wasn’t exactly in the best place when it came to men. Did I really want to open myself up to someone else?

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