Page 73 of Betrayed in the Dark
Scarlett and I exchange glances, doing our best to contain our laughter, but eventually, it slips out.
Mauro shakes his head, drops his hands, and steps back. He points to Scarlett, who walks over. She lets Mauro attempt to wrap his arms around her, but before he can clasp his hands together, she thrusts her hands forward, making a fist in front of her pelvis and lifting her knee directly toward Mauro’s groin.
He quickly places his hand on her knee, stopping her before any damage can be done.
“You want to hit them where it hurts,” Scarlett says, smiling. “You can also use your forehead to hit the attacker’s nose if you’re tall enough.”
Mauro places a hand on her shoulder and then looks back at Alina.
“Ah. So, you didn’t want a hug. Got it.” She laughs nervously, adjusting her glasses. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking,” she murmurs, looking down at the floor and shuffling her feet.
Mauro approaches her and reaches out his hand, using two fingers to tilt her head up. She bites her bottom lip as he points to her eyes and then gestures back to himself.
“Eyes on you,” she whispers.
He nods in response.
I look at Scarlett, who returns my look with a face that clearly says,what the hell was that?
No idea,I mouth.
Just then, a phone rings, snapping Alina out of her daze. She jumps backward and pulls her phone out of her pocket, her expression falling as she checks the screen.
“I have to take this,” she says without looking back, leaving the ring and heading out the front door.
Mauro’s eyes never leave her.
“So, should we call it a day or…” Just as I lift my leg to step between the ropes, I’m suddenly lifted into the air and placed firmly on my feet. “Jesus, Mauro! You can’t manhandle me in front of the men here. They’ll think they can walk all over me.”
Scarlett bends over, laughing, gripping the rope for support.
One side of Mauro’s lips lifts in a grin as he motions for me to meet him in the center of the ring.
“Fine,” I huff, rolling up my sleeves.
He stands before me, looking triumphant, but that’s probably because he’s forgotten what I’m capable of. Maybe it’s time to remind him—and everyone else—who I am.
A small group of men gathers at the side, eager to see how this will unfold.
“You all might want to watch and take notes,” I tell the onlookers, who chuckle, likely thinking it’s a joke.
“Ready?” I ask, locking eyes with Mauro. He nods and reaches out for me.
But I’m too fast for him.
As I spin around, I wait until his chest presses against my back, his arms wrapping around my waist. I bend backward, knowing I won’t be able to reach his nose, but it gives me the leverage I need, causing Mauro to stick out one of his legs for balance. The moment he does that, I quickly bend forward, grab his leg by the knee, and pull it up with me, making him lose his balance.
A collective gasp escapes from the onlookers as Mauro’s back hits the mat.
Could Mauro have stopped me?
Most likely.
But he didn’t.
Because he knows the men in here won’t respect me if they think I’m weak.
So he did what any big brother would do.
