Chapter Five

ENZO'S POV

The whole world freezes when Gypsy suddenly lands on the floor with a loud thud at my office door. So do I, until reality slaps me in the face three seconds later. I jolt out of my desk and run to her side.

"Gypsy?" I cradle her cheek in my palm, then say in serious voice. "This isn't funny. If you think pretending to faint is gonna make me less strict on you, then you're insane."

I wait for her eyes to open and yet nothing happens. Panic puts me right in a wringer as I hold her upper body up and place it on my thighs.

"What the fuck! Gypsy wake the hell up. This isn't funny. Gypsy?"

Damnit.

Crouching, I sweep her up into my arms bridal style and hurriedly make my way to the elevator.

Getting her into my car, I drive like a lunatic. Fuck any police who tries to stop me for speeding. If something happens to Gypsy...

Fuck I can't even entertain the thought of something happening to her. When we get to the hospital. I look for a spot to park.

After parking, I get out, move to the backseat, and carry Gypsy in my arms again as I break into a run. As soon as I'm inside, I shout.

"Help me."

*****

Turns out Gypsy fainted because she hasn't had anything in her stomach since morning and her body doesn't do well without food. the doctor told me Gypsy risks getting diabetes.

I curse softly under my breath. This is all my fault. all my fucking fault.

After buying a takeout lasagna from a restaurant near the hospital, I find myself inside Gypsy's room. She's still sleeping. I wonder how long she's going to take to wake up.

Taking the chair standing beside her bed, I study her face. Even sleeping and completely unintentionally, she looked so damn... perfect.

It's like nature took the time when it was creating her to mould very contour of her face. That small nose sitting in the middle of her oval face, those pink kissable lips.

Those deep cyan eyes that mess up my mind every time I look into them, the reason why I rarely look into her eyes when talking to her.

Her hair which is always in a pony has now been released and lies around her head. As if she couldn't get any sexier. I'm not even gonna talk about the rest of her body.

Fuck, I'm getting a hard on.

Suddenly, she stirs, her eyes slowly opening. She groans, trying to sit up. "Where am I?"

"Take it easy. You fainted and I had to bring you to the hospital. They said you haven't eaten all day... So I brought...I brought you some food." I swallow, pulling the takeout bowl from the bag.

She jolts off the bed all of a sudden. "Oh my God. Zeke. I need to go... He must be so worried."

She attempts to walk off but wobbles. Placing the bowl on the bed, I quickly get up to hold her. "Gypsy, take it easy. You're very weak. You need to eat something before you can go."

"You didn't seem to care very much when you were making me work on a useless file as some stupid punishment."

Fury lights up in her eyes as if at the very thought of the file. She struggles to get out of my hold but I hold on firmly.

"Don't go. I won't let you go. Eat something first." I tell her firmly, making her know that I'm dead serious.

She stops struggling and walks back to the bed, grabbing the bowl of lasagna furiously. She rips off the lid and dives in with her hand, completely ignoring the plastic fork.

I watch her eat silently while she ignores me. She tries to go slow but her hunger seems to get the better of her. She does look cute when she's all ravenous. I tense.

She. Is. Not. Cute.

It doesn't take long before she's done and steps out. She walks pass me without even sparing me a glance. Sighing, I follow her.

After settling the bills, we head for my car and drive back to the company because Gypsy has to retrieve her purse and her phone.

"Oh my God. Six missed calls." Gypsy groans after looking at the screen. "Zeke must be so worried."

Who the heck is this Zeke? Whoever he is, he must be very important to her. The thought bothers me more than it should.

"I can drive you home." I offer, then add when she looks at me in surprise, "It's quicker than a cab."

She stares at me for some seconds. Then a small laugh escapes her lips. It's not a happy laugh. It's the kind of bitter laugh that makes me wince.

"No need to play nice because of what happened, Mr. Douchebag. Especially since you've already gotten what you wanted."

"What do you mean?" I realize I'm not even offended about the insult.

"Congrats. This is the last time you'll be seeing me in your company."

With that, she spins on her flat heels and walks away.

***********

I need to punch something. I fucking need to hit something.

I step into the underground basement of a casino which is used as a fighting arena. I've been fighting regularly here for the past two years.

it's not because I need the money. I'm rich enough to not have to work again for the rest of my life. Fighting makes me forget, it makes me feel good every time I'm feeling shitty.

And today, after what happened with Gypsy, I feel even shittier. My opponent for today better prepare himself.

“The boss wants to speak to you.”

A voice says almost immediately I and Dante get to the arena.

I look at the man who spoke. He's in an all dark suit and pants that seems to loan him an intimidating aura.

“The last time I checked, I wasn't on a anybody's payroll, so I think you mean 'your' boss.” I tell him.

“The boss made it possible for you to become a fighter here and make all that dough that you make.” The look on his face transforms and I realize he's scowling now.

I roll my eyes. “Whatever. What the fuck does your fucking boss want?”

“He wants to talk to you.”

“Okay so where is he?” I ask, glancing around, then I realize he expects me to go with him. Thinking about it, realize that I've never even seen that so called boss around here before.

“Dude, if your boss wants to talk to me, tell him to come here. Unless he's a cripple.”

“Believe me, you don't want to stand up the boss.” He says menacingly.

Whatever. I might as well go listen to the owner of the arena. I'm the best fighter around here so maybe he wants to make me a better deal.

Nodding at Dante, I walk behind the burly guy as he leads me through a door that leads to another underground tunnel. I wonder how many underground places are here and the kinds of things they do.

He pauses in front of a door and signals at it.

“Get in.”

”Why doesn't he ever come to the arena?”

“Just get the fuck inside. He just wants to talk.” He growls.

Dragging in an irritated breath, I grab the door handle and pry the door open, getting inside. It turns out to be somewhat of an office.

Inside, the office is dim with just a lamp on the table illuminating the place. Still I can barely see the man who supposedly wants to talk to me even though I can see his silhouette as he sits in his majestic swivel chair.

Why the heck won't he switch on the light?

“Enzo, so I've heard everyone calls you around here.” His voice is deep and mature.

“Yes???" I ask impatiently.

“You're the best fighter around here. And you've never lost a single one of your fights.”

“Okay.” I drawl.

Did this dude just call me to retell me facts I already know?

“Almost everyone who watches your fights bets in your favour, and you cost a lot of losses to the house.”

“So what's your point here old man?”

“Yearly, the tournament draws in a lot of people but this year, the numbers are extraordinary. So many people. You fight tonight and I've learnt about 95 percent of all those who bet, bet in your favour. They see you as their ticket to making thousands which translates to my ticket to losing a lot of money.”

“So?” I ask again, seriously on the verge of opening the door and getting the fuck out of here.

“So I want you to lose your fight tonight.” He says calmly.

I survey his silhouette, trying to make out his face in the darkness to see if he means his words.

“Did you hear me, Enzo?”

Oh, so the fucker actually means it.

“And why the hell will I do that?”

“Obviously, people's losses translate into my wins and vice versa. With how much money has been bet on you, if you lose, that's a lot of money for me and...”

“I'd think you would know that I don't give two flying fucks about your wins or your loses. How the fuck do you expect me to lose right now? We're in the middle of a fucking tournament. Losing means elimination.”

He chuckles a little, but this time it rings dangerously, like it's coming from a maniac.

“Believe me you want to do as I've nicely requested.”

“And believe me, I don't give a fuck about what you want.” I spit in disbelief.

The room is dark, but I can clearly see he's fuming with rage, threatening to burst.

"Think again Enzo because trust me, you wouldn't want to get on my bad side. It'll be hell for you if you do".

I scoff.

"I too have a bad side you know? You wouldn't want to get on it either. If that's all, I'll take my leave now, I've got a match to prepare for"

I turn and walk towards the door.

"You walk out the door and you'll regret it for the rest of your life. I swear by all things holy Enzo, I'll make you regret it. I'm going to fucking destroy you and crush you beneath my feet, trust me!"

Wow, he's threatening me because I refused him? This man surely got ego problems. I grab the door handle and turn, flipping him the middle finger.

“You don't defy me, Enzo. Nobody, absolutely nobody messes with Arrow Falcon.”

That's the last thing I hear him saying before I get out and slam the door.