Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
If we could only fix this weakness you have with women. . .
Jean-Pierre pulled me out of my thoughts. “Are we going to get to this mysterious solution?”
I growled, “Is your schedule busy, Butcher?”
“I have a video chat with a very important woman who happens to be the love of my life. I do not want to miss it.”
I smirked. “Your flute player can wait.”
“You do that intentionally.” Rage filled Jean-Pierre’s eyes. “Surely, you know by now what instrument she plays.”
I returned to the idiots—David and Giorgio—and made sure that I stood right between them. “Then let us begin. We must not have the flute player waiting.”
Jean-Pierre rolled his eyes.
“Women.” I let out a long breath. “They trigger us to fight.”
I glared at David. “But is it all about good pussy?”
I turned to Giorgio. “Or is it about the honor of knowing that she’s yours?”
I put my view on the crowd of men watching.
“Personally,” I crossed my arms. “If you touch my woman, I will kill you.”
Maxwell chuckled in the back of the room. “White boys and sistas.”
“What are you laughing about?” I barked at him. “You just sliced a man’s neck over a woman who you just met.”
Maxwell blinked.
“Idiot.” I took several steps back and let empty space run between David and Giorgio. “Men become aggressive toward one another when they are in pursuit of a woman, but is it a biological reason for this constant need to assert our dominance over pussy?”
Both men’s gazes were locked on the other. I doubt they even heard one word I said. Perhaps, I was only speaking to myself anyway, desperately trying to understand the power of the opposite sex and their unyielding grip on us.
“Long ago, men dueled over women.” I unfolded my arms. “Gripping a pistol, the men stood across from each other, and one at a time, each man took turns shooting at his opponent.”
Jean-Pierre let out a long sigh. “I will not allow my cousin to duel with anyone.”
Ignoring him, I kept my gaze on the idiots. “The Brotherhood has had its own history of settling disputes over women.”
David cracked the other side of his neck.
Giorgio raised one eyebrow.
“We brawl it out.” I fisted my hands and raised them to my face. “Bare knuckle. Barefoot. No jewelry or accessories. No weapons. No help.”
Instantly, Giorgio began unbuttoning his jacket as if more than eager to get his fists back on David.
I continued, “Historically, we have done this battle naked—”
“Oh, come on, man!” Maxwell groaned from the corner. “At least let me get out of here before you all start getting naked. I already have to deal with dead bodies and shit.”
Ignoring him, I continued, “However, this evening I will allow you to keep on your pants as long there are no weapons in your pockets.”
Giorgio spoke, “I must be allowed to keep my gloves on.”
“No gloves.” I glared. “That is the rules.”
Giorgio frowned. “If my gloves go off, then I will kill him, and I assume this is not a fight to the death.”
David winked. “I surely intended to kill you—”
Jean-Pierre stepped forward. “No one dies tonight. We are already in a war. The last thing we need is to ignite another one between the Brotherhood and Corsican.”
“No fucking gloves!” I pointed at Giorgio and then jabbed my finger in David’s direction. “And do not kill the pansy.”
Jean-Pierre didn’t step back. “How do we know who wins?”
I looked at him. “The man who can walk out of this room, is the man that gets Blue.”
Maxwell chuckled. “You know that this fight won’t mean shit. Motherfuckers still going to be hollering at Blue, crippled or not. The loser will be rolling in a wheelchair and shit, spitting game.”
Wassily entered with two men pushing a heavy metal cart with black steel bins on them.
That must be the acid.
I gestured at the bin. “Maxwell, you need to focus that genius expertise on getting rid of those bodies and shut up.”
“Okay. I got this.”
I turned to Giorgio and groaned in annoyance. He carefully folded his shirt. Jean-Pierre already held his needly folded jacket.
I leaned my head to the side. “Would you like to join this fight or not?”
“I am coming.” When Giorgio finally finished, he walked back over to David and fisted his leather gloves.
I frowned. “Get rid of the fucking gloves.”
Giorgio raised his hands and fisted them. “I do not want to touch his skin.”
“Excuse me.” Jean-Pierre handed the folded jacket and shirt to another pansy. “I believe my cousin should be allowed to wear them. Or do you think a pair of gloves will be an advantage to beating your number one? Surely, that cannot be correct.”
Before I could speak, David did. “Let the Butler keep the gloves. It does not matter to me.”
Sighing, I walked over to David and lowered my voice. “When he punches, the gloves will reduce the shock to the hands and wrists.”