“Everyone, this is my friend Tatiana Aslanova,” she announces happily, briskly going through introductions so quickly that I only catch every other name or so. Looking down at the pristine white tablecloth and shining cutlery makes me want to laugh. The ridiculously high-style ambiance juxtaposed with these already battle-scarred and hardened twenty-somethings is sort of hilarious.
“I hear you’re training with Lucca Toscano,” ventures one girl - Camilla, I think? “That must be fun.” There’s a frisson of giggles around the table, while the guys groan.
“If this is going to be another session of the Toscano Slut Club, I’m leaving,” growls Aleksandr Rostova. I’ve known him since spending time during a couple of meetings in Moscow ten years ago when the Six Families got together for a Bratva summit. I suspect my father included me in the gatherings to… I don’t know, show me off as a potential match, or something. But Aleksandr was always nice.
“Well, that’s rude,” Camilla scolds him.
“We don’t slut shame at this table,” Mariya says primly.
Laughing behind my fancy cloth napkin just brings the attention back to me. “What?” I said defensively, “He could not make it more clear that working with me is about as pleasant as having his face smashed in with a brick. Trust me, other than barking commands at me and criticizing my feeble efforts in sparring, there is nothing happening. What’s the attraction here? Are you all blinded by his shiny white teeth and glaring toxic masculinity?”
The table’s gone silent and I feel a presence behind me.
“Get up,” Lucca says coldly, “we’re scheduled for gym time in ten minutes.”
Lucca…
I want to spank her ass so bad, my fucking palm is itching. Tear those tight yoga pants right off her and slap her perky little ass bright red until I make her cry. Lick the tears off her face and stick my fingers inside her and-
Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?
Tatiana is walking with me as ordered, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the path. Gleaming white teeth and toxic masculinity? She definitely needs a lesson in respect today. The bruising and swelling around her eye are nearly gone, though that vicious-looking blue-black bruise I’d seen on her thigh is going to take a while.
She’s a terrible fighter, still flinching every time I come at her, and taking her down is painfully easy. I have to admit though, she won’t give up. Maybe it’s her Russian stoicism, but she gets up every time I knock her to the mat.
“Get in position,” I said sharply. The four guys leaving the gym suddenly decide to hang around when I bring in Tatiana.
“I’m sure you’ve got something better to do,” I glared at them.
“No, not really,” shrugs Mateo, “maybe she could use a hand. I could teach her a couple of moves.” The douchebags with him chuckle.
This is the time Tatiana chooses to be brave, which is a huge mistake.
“I already know about the dangers of STDs from manwhores and the heartbreak of premature ejaculation, so thanks, there’s really nothing you can teach me.”
“Whoa…” cackles the entourage of assholes.
“Cagna, you bitch! Who do you think you’re talking to?” Mateo hisses.
Shit, I groan silently, she’s ridiculed him in front of his friends, and this isn’t good.
He marches toward Tatiana until I clothesline him with my forearm across his chest. “Mateo?” He glances at me, furious. “Fuck off.”
“You sure you want to be on my bad side?” he says, grinning with his teeth clenched tight enough to crack a molar.
“Go smoke something and calm down,” I said quietly, “or find a girl from your harem and get a blowjob. This isn’t worth getting worked up.”
“Wrong choice, compagno,” he hissed. Throwing his shoulders back, he chuckles, strutting back to his little group of ass-kissers. The only students here who can tolerate Mateo enough to hang out with him all have families connected to his father’s mafia in Sicily.
When the door shuts behind them, I grab Tatiana with my hand on the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me. “Do not fuck with Mateo Costa. Do you understand me? If you embarrass him, he will make your life hell for the next two years. The little prick never forgets an insult.”
She stares up at me, and from this close, I can see the little flecks of gold in the forest green of her eyes. That she smells of jasmine and something spicy. That the heat coming off her skin makes me want to run my tongue down her throat and between her breasts and-
Fuck. Me. Get it together, you asshole!
“Do you understand me?” I persist, giving her a little shake.
“Yes! Just take your hands off me!” Tatiana snaps.
I let go of her and walk off, hands on my hips as I try to control my temper. Why should I care if she insists on making an enemy of Mateo? The first answer is obvious, that miserable prick shouldn’t be here at the Academy, he’s done some brutal shit without being caught, and she is no match for him.
The second answer is harder to accept. I want to protect her.
Her parents were just murdered and instead of keeping her with them, her brothers sent her here to sink or swim. There’s a lot of chatter between the families about the attacks, but no one seems to know who’s behind them. Why would the Aslanov Bratva send her here? Tatiana’s gentle and reserved, she’s not meant for the cutthroat environment of the Academy.
She’s not your problem, I try to convince myself, train her, and move on.
Sucking a deep breath, I clap my hands. “Get into position on the mat.”
Taking her place, she plants her feet. Her lips are pressed together tightly but she forces herself to look at me, eyes narrowed.
“One of your weaknesses is not using momentum in your favor,” I said. “You are rarely going to match an opponent in size, so you need to use their height and bulk against them. I’m going to charge at you, when I’m almost within arm’s reach, I want you to pivot right, get your left arm against my chest, and your right behind my head. The second my chest touches your arm; pull with everything you’ve got against the back of my head. Visualize me flipping over and landing on my back.”
“I’m not strong enough to flip you,” she said, already looking miserable.
“That’s why you’re using my momentum to do the work for you,” I said patiently. “Let’s give it a try.”
Taking a deep breath and shaking out her hands, Tatiana nods firmly.
“I’m going to do this in slow motion the first time to let you get the sense for your foot and arm placement,” I coach her, “then I’m coming at you. Ready?”
“Yes…” she agrees hesitantly.
As always, she flinches when I move in on her, but since I’m going slowly it gives her a chance to focus again. Her arm placement is perfect, and I correct her foot positioning with a tap to her ankle. “Good. Let’s try it again for real this time.”
We work on the move six times and she still can’t make me flip, but she doesn’t want to stop. “Again,” she says, panting.
“We’ll take a water break,” I said.
“Once more,” Tatiana insists.
Cracking my neck, I take my place and charge her, a little faster this time because her stubbornness is both irritating and impressing me. This time, she does every move perfectly and I’m flying, flipping, and landing on my back on the mat.
“It worked!” she shrieks, jumping up and down. “Hah! I did it!”
Leaning back on my elbows, I chuckle at her little victory dance. “You did,” I said, “that was a slick move.”
“Wait,” she pretends to be shocked. “Did the Great and Untouchable Lucca Toscano just tell me I didn’t completely suck at something?”