TP made him sweat it out an entire week before he showed up at the dive martial arts studio Ronin had been renting on a month-to-month basis. And truth was, if TP hadn’t taken the time to thoroughly check out Ronin’s backstory, then Ronin wouldn’t have done business with him. But they’d had an odd connection from the start and hashed out details of their “deal” with just a handshake—unheard of in this day and age.

“So what happened?” Amery prompted, bringing him back to the present.

“He signed off on the loan for the building personally. He had two stipulations. One, that if I ever cashed in any of the trust funds, I’d put the money in one of his banks. Two, that I’d do a favor for him from time to time.” He frowned. “But the favor issue didn’t come up until after I had problems with the construction company I hired for the building remodel. Within two weeks, a group of Russian construction workers showed up, and the guys trying to extort cash from me for ‘protection services’ vanished.”

“Did TP help you handle it?”

Ronin laughed. “Yes. Which is how I ended up owing Max Stanislovsky a favor too.”

Amery placed her hands on his cheeks and tilted his head to gaze into his eyes. “You don’t have to go into detail, but are the thug-for-hire rumors about you true?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about it. About all of it.”

“At this point, some guys would say they’re not proud of what they’ve done, but I have no regrets. If I didn’t believe in the favor I’d been asked to do, I passed. TP never had an issue with that. Neither did Max.” Ronin peered into Amery’s eyes, half afraid of what he’d see. But those beautiful baby blues held interest and love, not a hint of disdain. “Are you satisfied now?”

“Did you ever put money in TP’s bank, or is he still waiting?”

“Remember when I told you I withdrew funds from a small trust account to finish my penthouse?”

Amery nodded.

“One beneficial thing my sister told me about my grandfather? It didn’t matter if I took out a single dollar or a million. The amount of money wasn’t the catalyst, just that I’d used any of it. As soon as I knew that, I cashed out every f**king penny of that trust. First thing I did was pay off my building.” Ronin sensed she wanted to ask him how much that was, so he told her. “That one small account had more than ten million dollars in it.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. God. You have ten million dollars in the bank? Right now? Right here in Colorado?”

Ronin smiled. “With TP’s investment guy looking after it, it’s closer to twenty million. And before you freak out, I live on what I make from the dojo. That money sits there. I’m happy without all the trappings of worrying about how to spend that much disposable cash. Most people don’t understand that. I’m really happy my bank balance doesn’t matter to you.”

“I don’t think I could be so cavalier about money. Maybe that attitude is the privilege of people who have it.”

He forced himself to ask the question, wondering if he should be afraid of her answer. “So, has hearing all this changed how you look at me now?”

“No.” Amery curled her hand around the side of his face. “Anything you did, even if you bloodied your hands doing it, wasn’t done lightly or without good reason. I know you’re a man of integrity.” She slipped her hand down to the left side of his chest. “You have a good heart.”

Ronin pressed his forehead to hers. “Baby, you own it.”

Amery kissed him with the sweet comfort and acceptance he’d only ever gotten from her. Those soft lips trailed along his jaw, stopping at his ear. “I’m surprised we haven’t been interrupted yet. Is there anything else you need to get off your chest?”

Just then Blue burst in and skidded to a stop. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s some pre-fight stuff we need to go over.”

Amery whispered, “Later.” Then she slid off Ronin’s lap. “I need to track down my seat anyway.”

“Ringside to the left of the judges table. Fifth row, outside seats,” Blue offered.

After Amery left, Ronin said, “What’s up?”

“The local affiliate for a national sports channel wants to interview someone from the Black and Blue promotion team. We never finished the discussion about who’s handling media.”

“That’ll be Katie’s job—provided she survives her probation. But for now . . . f**k. I don’t want to be on camera. Do you?”

“Fuck no,” Blue said. “TV interview shit is my least-favorite thing about fighting. Especially post-fight. Reporters sticking a damn camera in your face. Half the time I don’t know my own name, never mind talking coherently about fight strategy.”

“We’re on the same page there. You want one of your guys and one of my guys?”

Katie stormed in through the side door. “Who’s representing Black and Blue Promotions in the segment with KNNR?”

Blue’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and his tongue almost smacked into the floor at seeing Katie in her ring-girl getup.

“That’s what we’re discussing. Knox and Gil?”

“No, no, no. This is the first promotional event, so it has to be the owners, if for no other reason than to show a solid front after Mr. Curacao’s public beat-down of you, Mr. Black.”