Two To Go: Bayou Heat (Pantera Security League Book 2) Read Free Page B

restaurant. The sound of muted conversations drifted through the air. Along with a new scent that made her stomach rumble. Meat and vinegar. She’d really hate having to blow this place up before she got a plate of whatever that was.
    “In my office,” he abruptly commanded.
    Victor turned to climb the steps with surprising speed.
    Yes, sir. Grinning, Elyon followed behind him, taking the stairs three at a time. Once they reached the top, she had a brief glimpse around an open space that had been converted into a gym with a large boxing ring in the center of a wood-planked floor. There was the typical weightlifting equipment, an area with several punching bags, and a treadmill.
    There were also three separate doors that were closed.
    The man in front of her opened the closest one, and stepped inside. She paused, allowing her senses to sweep the confined space to ensure there was nothing lurking inside.
    It was empty.
    Still, she waited until he’d moved across the cramped space to lean against the desk littered with messy piles of papers before she stepped over the threshold.
    “Look, milaya —” the older man started.
    “Name’s Elyon,” she interrupted, her expression hard with warning.
    No one was allowed to call her honey or darling or sweetie or babe. In any language.
    Not unless they wanted their face rearranged.
    “Fine, Elyon,” he conceded in patronizing tones. “I appreciate your…” He deliberately paused. “Balls, but I run the best club in town. Which means I don’t let every stray fighter who walks through the door in the ring. Even if they’re smoking hot. It’s invitation only.”
    She reached into the pocket of her coat, removing the email she’d printed out before leaving for New York.
    “Consider this my invitation,” she said, holding it out.
    The man grabbed the paper and swiftly scanned the brief note. His brows climbed up his forehead. If this man considered himself the best in New York, then he had to know that Karl Richardt was the best in the world.
    “You know Richardt?” he breathed.
    “I’ve fought in his tournaments.”
    The man tossed the paper on the desk and pulled out a phone from the inner pocket of his tailored suit. He was smart enough not to accept a possibly fake email as proof of her credentials.
    Bravo.
    He texted someone, hopefully Richardt, who owed her big time for that ex-lover issue she’d helped him solve, then typed her name into a search engine and pulled up the bogus information she’d uploaded.
    “The Angel of Death, eh?” he read out loud.
    She hid her smile at the ridiculous name she’d given herself. Cage match fighters were all about the drama. And hey, she was an angel to her PSL family. At least when she wasn’t being a hellish pain in the ass.
    “When can I be added to the roster?” she asked.
    His phone pinged and he glanced at it before returning it to his pocket, his expression now satisfied that she was who she was pretending to be.
    “It’s not that simple,” he told her.
    She rolled her eyes. “It never is.”
    He shrugged. “If you aren’t a part of the local circuit then you have to fight our club champion before you can be included on the roster.”
    “Fine.” She placed her hands on her hips, her foot tapping with impatience. “I’m ready. Anytime.”
    The man considered her for a long minute, clearly calculating how best he could take advantage of her. His gaze skimmed up and down her tight, muscular form, lingering on her buzzed hair and the lean features that were more striking than beautiful.
    He had to know that she would bring in large crowds if she could actually fight.
    “Tonight,” he abruptly announced.
    She gave a sharp nod. Hot damn. It was exactly what she’d been hoping for. “I need to see the facilities.”
    He frowned. “Why”
    “I don’t come into a fight blind,” she told him, her stubborn expression telling Victor she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I want to walk the space