Chapter 8

DAMIEN

I was at Dominico's Bar already on my third whiskey. It was an underground Gentlemen's Bar—the underground part mostly for anyone to let of steam from the day. Anyone who wanted to get lost.

Once I was out of here, it meant that I was

going to have to go home and face her and I couldn't. Not yet. I thought if I got married and started the process things would make the pain and anger go away, even just a little, but it didn't.

If anything, I was feeling worse.

I threw back the rest of the whiskey and slammed the glass against the bar, signalling the brunette waitress for another.

The idea of getting revenge made you feel powerful especially when you actually starter taking out the punishment deserved for those that needed it, but it always stripped a little more of my humanity away each time I killed or bribed. I was so deep in this fucking shit there was no way for me to climb out of this tunnel of darkness.

My wife—Magdalena might have been the most innocent from all the Trovatos and she probably didn't deserve this or me. She didn't deserve this life, this hell I was going to give her, but no one ever asked if I wanted this. I didn't deserve this. I was a fourteen-year old boy living in a tiny house with my parents and my babysister. I didn't ask for this fucking life or to be thrust into it against my will.

I gripped the whiskey glass and lifted it to my lips, before throwing back the golden-amber liquid.

This world spared no mercy on the innocent.

Suddenly, someone touched my shoulder and

I turned around to see Dominico Gozzi. He was in his late fifties with his dark hair slicked back. A few silver strands and some wrinkles giving away his age. He'd been running this place for as long as I could remember. When I would accompany my father on his night deliveries to the most exclusive clubs in Palermo, we would make our last stop here at Dominico's Bar.

He'd taken me into his circle for a while after my parents had died. He fed me and kept me off the streets for a while. In exchange, I worked the Bar for him and did runs, distributing his cocaine and illegal rum.

I even took part in his regular street fights to earn a little extra money on the side and it gave me an outlet for my anger.

"I heard you got married," Dominico said, as he slid onto the barstool beside me. "I never thought that day would come."

"Yesterday," I said, running my index finger along the rim of the glass. My reply came out as uncaring as I felt about the entire situation.

"Shouldn't you be with your bride?" I could feel his eyes on me, but I ignored them. "What are you doing here, figlio?"

I ignored his question and shrugged off my suit jacket. "Do you still host those street fights?"

"Yes. I'm having a few tonight. Do you want to place a bet? We have some talented guys lined up. You'll make a lot of money if you bet on the right one. I have a list of the people's favourites."

I shook my head. "I want to fight one of your guys tonight, Dominico. How much is the entry fee?"

I reaching into my jacket pocket for my wallet, but Dominico placed his hand on top of mine to stop me.

"You haven't fought since..." he trailed off, but he didn't have to finish his sentence for me to know what he meant.

I haven't fought since I became a made man. These street fights were beneath someone like me, but it was a part of who I was before. The rush of fighting in a pit, the blood flowing through my veins as I pummeled someone's face with my rage.

I wasn't like every other made man. Riches and instilling fear in people didn't change who I truly was on the inside. I was a street kid by heart and a big part of me still was that street kid, still desperately fighting to reach the top.

"I want to fight," I said and Dominico knew better than to turn me away.

He knew how stubborn I was. Once I got an idea in my head, I wouldn't deviate from following through with it.

"You don't have to pay a fee," he said, with a small smile. The look in his warm, brown eyes was almost sympathetic. He always treated me like his own, even though he didn't owe it to anyone.

"And you still have familigia to feed, non?" I pulled my wallet out and handed him a few hundred euros. "I'm going for the first match."

Dominico's eyes widen at the money, because I knew half the assholes that came in here tried to cheat him most of the time and haggle prices. He needed the money.

Before Dominico could even protest, I walked away from him and head towards the dark red door that led to the pits where the held the fights.

There were no dressing rooms or anyone being prepped by coaches. Men came in here to fight to the death on their. Whether they came out of here or not that was their decision. Most of them were ex-convicts or capo's looking to beat someone up for fun and money. And of course the women were always an added incentive.

I walked the narrow hall, as I unbottoned my shirt.

The pit was in the middle of an enormous circular room with high, vaulted ceilings. Burly guards stood around with the other men that planned on fighting tonight. They made sure no one backed out until there was a winner.

The guy I was up against was an equal match with height, but he worked out more than I did, with the veins sticking up along his muscular arms.

We shook hands after I discarded my shirt on the floor a few feet away from where we stood.

The guy wasted no time as he barelled himself at me, shoving his head against my chest, nearly knocking me flat on my ass.

I managed to stay on feet, pushing him off me.

I barely had a chance to think about my next move, because he came at me again and this this I caught his jaw with my left fist, my knuckles connecting with teeth and bone under his skin.

That fucking hurt, but it also felt good in a way. To give and receive pain. It was my turn next as he punched me in the abdomen, the air getting knocked out of my lungs from the impact. I staggered on my feet, knowing I could take this guy if I really wanted to. But I wanted this. I wanted a fight.

His fist connected with my nose and there was sudden crack. Blood started to trickled down my top lip and I could taste the metallic as it filled my mouth. I swiped the back of my hand against my nose. There was no pain yet, but I knew what I was going to feel like later. Like I'd been to fucking hell and back.

"Combattimi!" The man spat, an arrogant smirk on his face.

Sweat ran down the side of my face as I moved towards him, blinking as the lights flashed above and the girls cheered. I couldn't even make out what they were fucking saying but it didn't matter.

"Vigliacco!" my opponant said smugly.

That was all I needed to hear. In seconds I rushed towards him, pinning him to the floor and wrapping my left arm around his thick neck as I pummeled his face with right fist. Over and over. My knuckles were getting sore, but I kept going. There was a spurt of dark blood from his mouth and the man started struggling for air. My heart pounded in my ears as I watched his eyes flutter. His bloody face was unrecognisable and I couldn't stop, until one of the guards had gripped me by the arms and pulled me off. My chest heaved as I shrugged the guards off me. Everyone started cheering. Cheering at the fact that the man in the middle of the room was dead.

I swiped my shirt from the floor and headed out of the pit.

"Damien," Domenico called out behind me.

"Your nose."

"I'm fine," I said, as I pulled my shirt on, not bothering to really button it up.

"What are you really doing here? You just got married and you're fighting in the pit?"

My jaw tightened and my temples throbbed with an oncoming headache. What did I even say? That I was finally getting the revenge I deserved? That I was on fucking death mission? That I married my enemy's daughter yesterday?

So I just hung my head like I did before when I was still a kid and Domenico would catch me doing the same drugs he sold and reprimand me. He wasn't blood, but I respected him enough no to fight back.

"I don't want to see you doing this again." His tone was stern as he handed me a brown bag. "Take this and fucking spoil your wife and if you come back to fight again, I'll kick your ass myself."

Chuckling, I took the bag from him. "Si signore. Thanks again."

"I'll see you around."

Nodding, I waved at Domenico and walked out of the bar. The air was warm outside and the purple sky was darkening as evening neared.

Once I got into my car, I threw the money onto the passenger seat and sank back into my seat.

The pain started to settle in, but the restless part of me was satiated. For now, it calmed the darkness in me.