Hadrian’s gaze never wavered as he continued to stare at Raphael. “If you’re willing to fight for her, I’ll turn off my dead man’s switch. If I lose, you get Sterling, and the information I have on the five families dies with me. Your empires will be safe. But if I win, you die today, Sterling is mine, and her debt is cleared forever.”
Raphael glanced at Angelo who ever so slightly inclined his head in agreement.
My husband raised his brows and looked down his aristocratic nose at Hadrian. “Your challenge is formal?”
“It is,” Hadrian ground out.
“To the death?”
“Aye. To the death.”
Raphael took a sip of Prosecco and then set the glass down and began to loosen his bow tie. “So be it.”
Hadrian had come for me.
Just when I’d given up all hope, he’d come for me.
And now I was terrified I would have to watch him die.
It didn’t matter that Hadrian had fought an assailant hand to hand. Raphael Foscari came from an ancient family line of assassins, and Hadrian was still unwell, putting him at a severe disadvantage.
And yet I meant enough to him that he’d laid his cards on the table, and he was willing to risk everything for me.
Hadrian had made a phone call to an attorney on a secure phone and ordered him to temporarily disable his dead man’s switch. When it was done, we left the wedding reception. Gisella walked by my side as we strolled through estate, past the vineyards to a fighting ring that resembled an ancient Roman amphitheater.
The Foscari and the Moretti assembled on opposite sides of the arena.
I sat on an ornate wooden throne on the ground level, between both sides. With my hands clenched in my lap and my back straight, I waited.
Hadrian stood in the center of the ring. He was shirtless, his fair skin bright in the autumn light. The bandage from the wound the intruder had inflicted to his side was gone, but I could still see his scars. He was huge, but with his shirt off, his weight loss was pronounced.
Raphael was also bare chested. Though tall, he was significantly leaner than Hadrian. His golden skinned body was unblemished, but I didn’t discount his rage.
I couldn’t look at the man I’d been forced to marry and think of him as anything but a monster.
A monster who stepped out of the fighting ring and boldly stalked toward me and kissed me.
With tongue.
In front of Hadrian.
When Raphael pulled away, I looked at Hadrian out of the corner of my eye. His jaw was clenched, and fire was in his eyes.
Raphael would fight dirty. I expected it, and judging by Hadrian’s expression, he expected it too.
Angelo rose from his seat high above the arena, and after the crowd fell silent, he called out, “You have both vowed in front of witnesses to fight to the death for the honor of claiming Sterling, a woman of Moretti blood, now carrying the last name Foscari. There are only three rules. Opponents must fight without the use of weapons of any kind, retreat is not an option, and the fight is to the death. Do you both agree?”
“Aye,” Hadrian stated.
“Yes,” Raphael replied.
“Shake hands,” Angelo commanded.
In spite of his anger, Hadrian reached his hand out, but Raphael simply spat at Hadrian’s feet and backed away from him, craning his neck and stretching for what was coming.
Nico stood at a large bronze gong that hung at the far corner of the arena. It was six feet in diameter, engraved with a falcon, and raised on its own wooden platform. The Moretti had clearly been settling scores through hand-to-hand combat for generations. Without hesitation, Nico took a mallet to it once, and the resounding din signaled the beginning of the fight.
Hadrian and Raphael began to circle one another, sizing each other up. Hadrian was raw, brute strength. Raphael was trim, but tall and strong enough to pose a real threat.
For a few moments, it looked like they were both frozen, suspended in time, and then they attacked each other with violent intensity.
The smacking sound of flesh meeting bone turned my stomach, but I refused to react, refused to show any emotion.
Hadrian’s head snapped to the side when Raphael’s fist collided with his jaw. It knocked him off balance, dazing him for a moment. He recovered quickly and lunged at Raphael, whose skin had turned damp with sweat, glistening on his marvelous body in the sun. I noted with a clear