The door to the gym opened as I finished another round of double-unders before I dropped the skipping rope on the ground. “It’s okay,” I called to my older brothers who were sparring in the cage. Neither Nino nor Remo looked my way, too busy fighting.
Diego turned the corner with Gemma hot on his heels. Her eyes became huge as she took in the old casino that we’d turned into our gym. Especially the chandeliers that always got looks from visitors.
I raised my eyebrows at Diego. Hadn’t he told me only recently that he wouldn’t give in to Gemma’s begging? He rolled his eyes in response before he gave me an apologetic look. Diego motioned for his sister to stop and she did, but not without pulling a face. She quickly smiled when she noticed my attention. She was in gym clothes, which looked like they might have been Diego’s a long time ago: too big sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt.
Diego strode toward me. We clapped hands. “Babysitting duties?”
He groaned. “Worse. Gemma has been whining to Dad for weeks now how much she wants to fight with you that he asked me to take her with me.”
Gemma had been begging me to fight with her for months. “Your dad’s okay with me fighting your sister?”
Diego huffed. “Of course not. She’s his precious little princess. The idea that you could hurt a single hair on her angelic little head would drive him insane. He couldn’t bear her begging anymore and wanted me to take her with me so she can watch. As if she’ll be happy with just watching.”
I glanced behind Diego.
Gemma was bobbing on her heels, her hands entwined. She was wearing some strange updo with braids. She was lucky she knew how to fight because with that hairdo, she’d otherwise get beaten up in school for sure.
Gemma was a scrawny kid, but she’d been working out with Diego for a while now. She knew how to throw a punch. “Maybe we can get her off our backs once and for all.”
Diego frowned. “Gemma is stubborn. Once she’s set her mind on something, it’s close to impossible to dissuade her.”
I grinned. “Maybe. But I might know of a way.” I glanced toward Remo, who did a high kick toward Nino’s head. He was sweaty, scarred, and the crazy as fuck look in his eyes made grown men shit themselves. I knew how my brothers appeared to strangers, and most people had every reason to be scared as shit of them.
I motioned for Gemma to come over. She beamed and practically rushed toward us, her face flushed.
Diego rolled his eyes again.
“Hi Savio!”
“Hey Kitty.”
Her blush deepened and she squirmed. “That’s not my name.”
“But it’s so very fitting.”
Diego scoffed. “You should see some of her other pajamas—”
Gemma punched his arm. “Shut up!” She smiled at me, tilting her head to the side and peering up at me through her lashes. Then she tried batting them.
I almost choked on laughter. Kitty was flirting with me.
“If you got something in your eyes, wash your face, Gemma,” Diego growled.
She tore her gaze away from me. She swallowed. “So, will you fight with me today?”
“Is that why you’re here?” I asked.
She nodded, expression brightening. “Diego’s always holding back. How can I improve with that training?”
Diego gave me an exasperated look over her head, and I smirked. “If you want someone who won’t hold back, you’ll have to fight my brother, Remo. He won’t hold back, trust me. After that, I’ll fight with you.”
Nino and Remo stopped their fighting in the cage, their eyes on me.
Gemma’s eyes grew wide as her gaze slid past me toward my brothers. Remo was a scary fucker. Most men wouldn’t dare face him in the cage, or anywhere else. He had left a bloody trail in his claim for power, but he was the best Capo the Camorra had ever seen.
Diego pointed toward a few chairs next to the boxing ring. “Come on, Gemma, sit down and let me train with Savio.”
Gemma tore her wide-eyed gaze from Remo and looked up at me. “If I fight him, you’ll train with me twice a week for the next year.”
Oh, now we were bartering?
“Three months,” I said with a shake of my head. Even that would mean a seriously deep cut in my free time—meaning less time with girls who actually had something to offer.
“Six months,” she said firmly, lifting her chin. She held my gaze.