“It’s impossible. Or close to.”

“The major players are bypassing this market. I figured out that the way to make money is to pack the fight card with amateur fights. That brings in friends and family. Put women in the ring for one match. Then close the evening with a pro match, or what passes as a pro matchup. If we combine our resources, in very little time we would be the go-to promoters for amateur fights in this area.”

Ronin cocked his head. “How many fights are you promoting a year right now?”

“Three or four very small ones that are barely a step above smokers. How about Black Arts?”

“Officially? None. I personally set up . . . underground bouts a few times a year. I keep it off the radar. Pay the purse out of my pocket.”

Blue gave him a narrow-eyed look. “So you fight in these unsanctioned matches?”

He fought the urge to squirm. Before he’d returned to the cage, he’d had to come clean with Knox. It’d been f**king embarrassing to admit that in the past three years, he’d hidden his compulsion to fight like it was some dirty secret. He’d convinced himself he needed to test his skills outside of the dojo, outside of being Sensei Black. But the truth was, after all the years he’d spent earning his reputation with his fighting skills, he couldn’t just . . . stop. He loved to fight. It was the one thing in his life that he was good at.

“Hachidan?” Blue prompted.

“Yes, I’ve maintained a presence in the underground fighting world. Seventy percent of the time I referee. The other thirty percent?” He met Blue’s gaze head-on. “I fight.”

“Dangerous hobby, my friend, and one I’d require you give up for good if we join forces.”

Ronin nodded. He’d already been forced to give it up, and his respect grew for the man across the table for expecting they’d keep things on the up-and-up.

“Back to the topic at hand. I’d like to pursue a partnership with you for the major amateur event we’ve scheduled in three weeks.”

“Here in Denver?”

“Yep. And you’re thinking . . . why haven’t you heard of it, right?”

“Right.”

“That’s what I’m saying. You’re involved in the fight world, and you’re unaware of the event. Think how many other martial arts studios with MMA training programs are in the same situation. They have no place to put their fighters to the test. Between us, we’ve got the network to make it happen. We’ve got the diversity. We’ve got the money.”

Ronin had to slow down the gears churning in his head and focus. “Expenses?”

“Everything fifty-fifty. From the overhead to the venue to the staffing. This first event could be a trial run to see how well we mesh. A lot of the logistics are already in place. It’d just entail swapping a few things out. And you kicking in some cash.”

“I’ll admit you’ve piqued my interest.” Really piqued it. If Ronin couldn’t participate in the fighting world in the cage or host fights in dive bars that catered to a rougher crowd, he could be an active part of it from a different angle. God knew he needed something to occupy himself while he was supposed to sit around twiddling his f**king thumbs.

Blue smiled. “Good. I didn’t mean to steer you away from the real reason I’m here.”

“Let’s cut to the chase. I think we can come to a workable agreement as far as absorbing your dojo into mine, while letting you keep some autonomy. What is your biggest issue right now?”

“I do not own my facility. I moved into the location last year. In the last nine months, I’ve been approached by two guys offering me protection. I initially declined.”

“Let me guess. After declining their offers, your place has been vandalized.”

“Three times. Renter’s insurance didn’t begin to cover the replacement costs. I contacted the rental property company to ask for assistance with paying for new windows, and they informed me anything involving ‘malicious intent’ isn’t covered.”

“Did the protection guys warn you about the vandalism?”

He nodded. “Being from Brazil and growing up on American TV, I thought those types of business practices were for effect. Or they only happened on the East Coast.”

“Sadly, no. How long is your lease?”

“I’ve got one year remaining on it. I’m the only tenant left in the building.”

“Is the building for sale?”

“No, but every other building on the block has changed hands in the last two years. As far as I know, the owners weren’t interested in selling.”

Sounded like the owners were being pressured to sell by a third party harassing the existing leaseholder into breaking the lease and cutting off the owner’s income stream. Easy to hire muscle, use scare tactics and property damage to convince the tenants to leave. He’d seen it happen over and over. And in the not too distant past, he’d been the guy doing the persuading.

“You don’t believe me,” Blue stated quietly.

Ronin glanced up at him. “No, it’s not that. A few organizations around here still get results by those tactics. Are you paying for protection?”

Blue’s face turned red. “I have no choice. But it’s sucking every bit of profit, and I’ll have to close my dojo before too much longer. I’d much rather be under the Black Arts umbrella and pay you rather than lose everything I’ve worked for in the last three years.”