Page 42 of Forced Innocent Bride By the Bratva

I stole a glance at Scarlett, my lips curled into a self-satisfied grin. Never had I been so proud of anyone in my whole life. Vince wasn’t the kind of man who was easily impressed; he wasn’t the kind who liked too many people. The fact that he approved of her only further buttressed what I already knew, that she was different.

Vince headed toward the floor-to-ceiling window that offered a breathtaking view of the violence beneath. “I take it you’re not here for a social visit,” he said, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“No, I’m not,” I said, taking a step closer. “I need to blow off some steam.”

“Hmm.” The deep, gravelly sound came from his throat. “You want your woman to see you for who you really are.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Tell you what,” he began, a hand in his pocket as he turned around to face me again. “Let’s make this even more interesting, shall we? You, Danny Boy, will face off against Tiny Jack.”

Ilya turned to me immediately, his eyes warning against accepting this arrangement.

Everyone in the room, except for Scarlett, knew who Tiny Jack was. The man was everything but tiny. He was huge—twice my size—and a merciless brute who had never lost a fight. Tiny Jack was the undefeated champion of this underground fight club. The man had a reputation for breaking bones like they were twigs and leaving his opponents unrecognizable by the time he was done.

It was said that he didn’t just fight to win; he fought to destroy. More than one man had been carried out of the ring on a stretcher, some never fighting again, some never walking. This was the man Vincent Moretti wanted me to fight. Vince was a businessman; he’d done the math, and he knew that putting me up against his finest fighter would make him more tonight. The stakes would be high, and the fight would be an epic showdown for his audience and business associates.

Ilya leaned forward, his voice a hushed whisper in my ear. “This is a bad idea.”

“What do you say, Danny? Are you in?” Vince asked, anticipating a positive response.

He got one.

Ilya should have known that I would never back down from a fight. I came here to blow off some steam, irrespective of my opponent, and that was exactly what I was going to do.

“I’m in,” I replied, staring at Vince.

A smirk tugged at a corner of his lips. “Fantastic.”

***

The necessary arrangements had been made, and soon the fight would begin. I stood shirtless outside the ring, the blood-stained floor sticky beneath my bare feet. My eyes darted upward, where Scarlett stood beside Vince at the edge of the private lounge’s balcony.

Her gaze locked on mine, and although she didn’t say anything, I saw it in her eyes. Not fear. Not anxiety. Not revulsion. Something else, something darker. Deeper. She was captivated, her eyes roaming my body—mesmerized. And that fueled me.

My wife was watching, so there was no room for failure. I didn’t care how tall and huge Tiny Jack was, didn’t care that he had never been defeated; today was the day he’d go down for the first time.

The arena buzzed with electricity, and the crowd pressed in—a sea of sweaty bodies, their jeers and cheers rising to a fever pitch.

The ring announcer, a blonde lady in a skimpy red skirt and a white crop top, stepped forward, a microphone in hand. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, her voice echoing through the arena. “This next fight will leave you blown away. Are you ready?!”

The crowd roared, their voices loud and laced with anticipation.

“Our first fighter is a man whose reputation precedes him. You know his name, and even in your sleep, you know not to mess with him,” she continued, her voice rising with each sentence.

The crowd thundered.

“He’s the man who fights like the devil himself, the one who leaves bodies broken and bloodied in his wake. Some call him a savage; others call him unstoppable—however, tonight, we get to see him for what he truly is…a monster. Give it up for Daniel Tarasov!”

The crowd erupted into a deafening roar as I ducked beneath the ropes and stepped into the ring, my movements fluid, slow, and deliberate. I rolled my neck and then my shoulders, my muscles rippling beneath the harsh overhead lights. I raised my head and met Scarlett’s gaze, a deadly smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

The announcer let the noise settle before lifting the mic. “And now, the man who needs no introduction: the undefeated king of this ring….”

The crowd went wild, roaring and whistling.

She continued, her tone laced with enthusiasm, “He’s the man who’s never lost a fight, the man who has ended careers, shattered bones, and sent more fighters crawling out of here than any of us can count. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the unstoppable, the undefeated, Tiny Jack!” she screamed his name.

The crowd exploded, stomping and chanting his praises, their voices threatening to bring the walls down.

Tiny Jack stepped into the ring like a mountain in motion, his face a map of scars, his massive frame casting a shadow over me.

I stole a glance at Scarlett, and that’s when I saw it: a glint of fear and worry simmering in her eyes. Tiny Jack’s imposing physique must have shocked her to the bone. She clearly wasn’t expecting someone with such a casual name to be so huge and intimidating.

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