Brawler's Baby: An MMA Mob Romance (Mob City Book 1) by Holly Hart Page B

rude one in this situation! I bit my amusement back down, reasoning that I could only push the man so far before he finally snapped.
    "Then how about we make a deal," I joked. "You stop sending morons like those two," I jerked my chin toward my slow-witted minders. "To pick me up, I'll stop calling you Mike. How's that for a plan?"
    Maya cringed, her body rocking backward as though my upbeat tone had physically assaulted her.
    What happened to that happy, sensual girl I met back home in Dublin?
    Because the girl in front of me didn't seem like the same person at all. Oh, sure – all the physical assets were there. She was easily as attractive as the day she'd disappeared from my life – the girl was a freaking bombshell, a dime – but something else had changed, something far harder to quantify but no less significant for it.
    The glimmer of light in her eye, that sparkling personality that I'd first fallen for had dimmed, and as I stood in front of her father I was left to wonder whether that flame had been snuffed out entirely – or whether it still smoldered somewhere, deep down, where it could be coaxed back to life.
    "Mr. Regan," Mikhail wheezed. "I wouldn't come into your house and insult you, so will you pay me the courtesy –"
    "You're a goddamn hypocrite," I burst back. "You've already done that by sending these two goons," I gestured to my side. "To knock my door down."
    My outburst sparked another reaction from Maya. I was more worried about her than I was about myself – by a long shot. She'd make a terrible poker player, that was for sure. I still didn't know what was going on, but I knew one thing: Maya wasn’t any better at hiding her emotions than a kid!
    Her face was more expressive than any catwalk model – it was partly why I'd once fallen in love with her. More beautiful too. I like my women full and healthy, not gaunt. I like to throw them around in bed, and I don't like worrying that I'm about to break their matchstick legs.
    Eyes on the prize, Conor . There'll be time enough to let your prick do the talking when you get out of this mess.
    If you get out of this mess …
    I refocused, concentrating on the task at hand like I was still in the octagon, and tried to attack the problem from another angle. Perhaps Maya was playing me; perhaps the goal she was working toward was too big for me to even comprehend, but as strange as the situation was, I still couldn't bring myself to believe that she'd changed that much, or that she would – even could – be so callous.
    Anything’s possible.
    Beside me, my two guards stiffened, glancing nervously at each other. I had a suspicion that one of them, perhaps both, had seen me fight in the cage earlier that night, and hoped that neither had any great desire to get into a confrontation with me.
    One-on-one, we all knew there'd only be one winner – me.
    Hell, I'd fancy my chances taking on the pair of them with one hand tied behind my back, and if their boss decided to throw his hat in the ring as well, then as far as I was concerned, the more the merrier.
    "Sergei," the mob boss called out. "Get in here."
    Sergei?
    The name sounded familiar, and I realized I'd met the man earlier that night. He was another one of Antonov 's henchmen. I cracked my knuckles. Apparently the odds weren't going to favor me quite as much as I’d hoped…
    And just as disconcertingly, I realized, Mikhail was a far more formidable opponent than I had anticipated. He wasn't as stupid as his pig-like exterior suggested – not by a long shot. Behind those thick, jet-black eyebrows and long forehead lay a mind every bit as sharp as my own.
    I heard a door swing open, clattering against the hard brick wall, and I glanced toward the source of the sound. Another black-haired Russian gangster with more muscle than sense waddled through, none-too-subtly cradling a sub-machine gun that looked mean enough to take down an elephant.
    I couldn't have guessed what make it was. Guns were a