Before - Bethan-Kris Page 0,2

couldn’t possibly understand ... shit, he was doing this boy a favor.

Bending down, Lev came eye to eye with the kid and uttered, “They’ll put you in there with a guy like me just to teach your stupid ass a lesson. Need money? Here’s not the place you want to find it. Move.”

Who knew what did it?

Maybe Lev’s words.

Maybe the gleam in his eye.

Either way, the kid’s gaze darted between Lev and the line of waiting men that had backed up all the way out to the floor where the ring was being set up for the fights that should have already started. Stupid didn’t need to be told again before he grabbed the backpack from the ground and scooted around Lev without a look over his shoulder.

Letting out an annoyed breath, he straightened up, fixing his jacket as he did so and headed for the opened office door where he knew Nickie was probably playing the little king behind his desk. As he did on every fight night. He enjoyed this chaos.

This shitshow.

Not even bothering to enter the office, Lev remained in the doorway where his large presence was more than enough to catch the attention of the man chatting on the phone behind the desk. Nickie didn’t bother to pull his legs down where he had them hooked at the ankles on the corner of the desk, nor did he hang up the phone when he looked Lev’s way.

“You’re late,” the guy barked.

Lev lifted one shoulder. “Shit came up.”

Like a teenager with a cutting problem.

He didn’t mention that.

“Told you tonight was a big one, didn’t I?”

“Looks to me like the place isn’t even open yet. Technically still on time.”

Nickie sighed, muttering something to whoever was on the other end of the phone before he slammed down the receiver hard enough to make the lamp next to it jump. He pointed a finger at Lev as he pulled his feet down from the desk to straighten up in his chair. “I shouldn’t let you fight tonight—lately, you’ve been fucking off.”

No, just ... distracted.

Nickie didn’t care, though.

“I could use the extra cash,” Lev said.

Not that he wanted to admit it.

Nickie arched a brow at the doorway Lev filled up and waved a hand as if gesturing to the line of people in the hallway that he couldn’t even see. “So could they.”

“They don’t guarantee you wins, though.”

That had his boss pausing.

“I need you serving directly from the bar to the front tables—”

“Who’s gonna be sitting in them?”

Nickie grinned. “Now you’re asking the right questions.”

Yeah, that was the thing about this place. One who was lucky enough to work here on a nightly basis—like Lev—and not just pick up extra work on fight nights learned quickly that everything was done with a purpose. And if he was serving the front tables, it was for a good damn reason.

“Marcello will be in tonight.”

Shit.

There was only one Marcello that regularly used Nickie’s as a place of business. Andino Marcello. Infamous mafia Capo. Raging asshole on his good days. Particular and demanding and difficult in every possible fucking way.

He also liked Lev. Or the way he made his drinks.

Why?

Lev didn’t have the first damn clue.

Nickie laughed huskily, reaching for the two fingers of whiskey and ice sitting on the edge of the desk with condensation dribbling down the glass. “Now you get it—the big boy will be in the house tonight, Lev. He’s bringing in an associate to do some ... business. You know, while they enjoy the fights and all. You’re the only bartender I have on hand that he’ll even consider allowing to mix his drinks, so you’re gonna be handling him and his guys until told otherwise. Got it?”

“Can I fight later?” he asked.

He could really use that extra cash. A grand for stepping into the ring whether he won or lost—up to five-k if he pulled a win with enough bets on him. With only a handful of fights throughout the night, he really wanted to be on the docket. What little savings he had was already basically gone, and this place certainly didn’t pay enough to make his ends meet. The fights helped to make it through the drier spells, so to speak.

“Depends,” his boss eventually replied.

“On what?”

Nickie shook his glass with a smirk. “On if your name gets pulled, Lev, like everybody else.”

Fuck.

Usually, he had a little pull given he worked behind the bar. Not tonight, apparently. He couldn’t say he was surprised considering the situation Nickie had