Page 34 of Ash Storm

Ash sighed theatrically. “Don’t we get to enjoy the women first?” he asked loudly—more than loud enough for Afsan to hear.

The tycoon zoomed in on the two of them.

“Ah, Mr. Romano. And Mr. Gezi,” he said politely. “I watched your two fights. Enjoyed them very much, even if they were too short.” The man’s cultured accent and poise seemed completely out of place with the brutality going on around them, but Ash knew better than to judge a man by his looks and way of speaking.

“Mr. Afsan,” he said, trying to look cocky and contrite at the same time. “I’m sorry if I offended—”

Afsan waved his hand grandly in Ash’s face.

Ash ground his teeth together.

It would take so little effort to break that hand.

“You appreciate fine women, Romano?” Afsan said.

“As much as any other man, Mr. Afsan,” Ash said, his Italian accent still firmly in place.

“Tell you what. Give my guests a good show, win the next fight, and I’ll let you choose a woman to enjoy. If you can be careful, of course. I won’t have any of them damaged before tomorrow.”

Ash’s stomach threatened to push the water he’d just drunk all over the man’s fancy-looking loafers. He swallowed thickly.

“You do us a great honor,” Gezi replied, saving Ash from having to say anything.

One of the fight master’s helpers came running towards them. “Romano, you’re up again. Quick.”