Page 10 of Claim Me
Funny, only now, in the dream, do I notice how physically similar they are, both short, even for omegas, with that same cold, slightly arrogant edge to them.
Their faces and the way they carry themselves show identical, relentless determination to reach their goals.
In the dream, Blue looks at me, but I can’t read his expression. It’s completely calm, like he’s just observing me.
For some reason, I feel stupid. Marcel made me hate Blue, convinced me that Blue was a crazy, amoral scientist, but now, under that steady gaze, something inside me cracks.
Should I say, "Sorry I spilled gasoline in your building and endangered those people"? I’m so ashamed.
I open my mouth to say it, but instead my eyes snap open as my phone starts ringing somewhere in the room. Someone’s calling.
I lift my head and grab it.
It’s already 9 am.
Oh shit, I overslept… I’m going to be late for our morning training session. My sparring partner, Archer, is going to kill me.
The incoming call shows an unknown number, and a sharp spike of stress hits me as I answer. Could it be the police? But they wouldn't call, right? They'd just arrest me.
"Hello?"
"Gabriel Nolan?"
An unfamiliar voice comes through the line.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"This is Rocco Ferro. I’m the brother of the fighter you’re scheduled to face tonight."
Ah, yes. Right. I remember him. The Ferro clan. They own a network of underground clubs and, supposedly, they’re mafia. Some of them fight too.
In my weight class there’s one of them, Eliano Ferro. A pretty inconsistent fighter, he’s been bouncing around the rankings for years.
With my ability, beating him wouldn’t be a problem, which just makes this call even more suspicious.
"As for the fight, I don’t even know if it’s happening," I say lightly, like I don’t really care. "The police might arrest me today."
"Oh, you’re in trouble, kid? Maybe what I’m offering could help with that little problem of yours."
"And how exactly would you help? You don’t even know what the problem is."
"Any trouble can be handled if you’ve got enough… convincing arguments. So here’s the deal. You lose tonight, let Eliano win. In return, you get half a mil wired straight to your account."
I go still when I hear the number. Underground fights usually don’t pay that well, not unless you’re the top dog. Over the past year and a half, I’ve been making maybe twenty, thirty thousand per fight, and most of it ended up in Marcel’s pockets anyway. I was left with scraps.
"Seriously, Gabriel… think about it. Whatever trouble you’re in, gold always helps."
He’s not wrong.
If the police come for me, at least I could afford top-tier lawyers instead of relying on a public defender. Maybe they could even get me out of it?
"So?"
It’s worth a shot. I’ve got nothing to lose anyway. I don’t even want to keep fighting. Might as well squeeze the last bit out of it.
When I don’t answer right away, Rocco adds, "I can even pay upfront. I know you’ll keep your word. I’ve heard you’re… a good guy." His voice drags slightly, a noticeable Italian accent.
I can’t believe this is real. Feeling a shiver of hope rushing through me, I answer,
