MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat - Chapter 506

Chapter 506: Chapter 506: Nights Over Lake Como
They were in Italy now.

Lake Como.

Specifically, Bellagio.

The quiet side of the lake, away from the heavy crowds and noise. Their villa overlooked the water, high enough in the hills to catch the sunset and still close enough to hear it lap against the shore at night.

The evening was already planned. A private dinner on the terrace of the Grand Hotel Tremezzo, one of the finest spots in the region. Candlelight, quiet music, and the lights from the small towns flickering across the lake. It was the kind of setting you didn’t forget.

Damon finished his shower, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

His shoulders and chest were still damp, water running along his skin as he stretched his arms overhead.

His body was as sharp as ever, even without a fight on the calendar. He exhaled slowly, rolling his neck.

Svetlana stared at him from across the room, holding a brush in her hand but not moving it. When she caught herself, she shook her head, half-smiling, then stood up and grabbed her things. She rushed toward the bathroom.

Damon watched her go, amused.

“You know,” he said, “we could’ve just gone in together.”

Svetlana laughed without slowing down.

“If we did that, we wouldn’t make dinner,” she shot back, closing the door behind her.

Damon chuckled to himself. “So you can’t control yourself when you see me, huh?”

He said it loud enough for her to hear through the door.

There was a pause. Then her muffled reply came through.

“You wish.”

He smiled, shook his head, and started getting dressed. They had a reservation to make.

Damon walked over to the bed. A set of clothes was laid out neatly, Svetlana’s doing. She always had a better eye for this than he did, and he didn’t argue with her choices.

He picked up the shirt first, running his fingers over the fabric. Light, but high-quality. Dark, but not too formal. It was the kind of thing that worked for a place like this.

He slipped it on, buttoning it up slowly, leaving the top two undone. The sleeves were rolled just past his wrists, clean and sharp without looking like he was trying too hard.

The pants were tailored, but comfortable. Dark linen, good for the warm evening air coming in off the lake. He finished with a simple watch, and stepped into a pair of black loafers that completed it.

By the time he was done, he gave himself a once-over in the mirror.

Looking at the mirror, Damon smiled. He wasn’t one to think much about appearances, but even he had to admit he looked good. Clean, sharp, and put together. He wasn’t a fashion guy, not really, but there was something about the way he carried himself now. Confident. Comfortable. He had grown into it.

He stepped over to the dresser and picked up one of the colognes Svetlana had made him buy months ago. Something subtle, not too strong. He gave it a single spray, then set the bottle back down. Little things, she always said. It’s the little things people notice.

He sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, hands resting on his knees, thinking about the trip so far.

Two countries in.

Indonesia was incredible, and now Italy was giving them something different. Quieter. More intimate.

But Damon wasn’t interested in waiting for another destination.

This wasn’t something he wanted to stretch out anymore.

Tonight was the night.

He stood, walked over to his bag in the corner of the room, and pulled it closer. Unzipping it, he dug beneath the clothes until his hand found the small box tucked away at the bottom. He pulled it out slowly.

Simple. Clean lines.

He opened it, looking at the ring inside for a long moment.

No nerves.

Just certainty.

He slipped the box into his pocket and exhaled.

Walking toward the bathroom door, he raised his voice just enough.

“Hey, I’m gonna head down to the lobby, okay?”

There was a pause, then Svetlana’s answer came through.

“Okay!”

Damon gave a faint nod, then turned and left the room.

Damon made his way down to the lobby. The Grand Hotel Tremezzo had the kind of old-world charm that didn’t need to try hard. High ceilings, marble floors, warm lighting that softened the edges of everything.

The air smelled faintly of polished wood and fresh flowers, something he noticed as he crossed toward one of the seating areas near the entrance to the terrace.

The staff greeted him with a polite nod as he passed. Discreet, professional. They knew where he was heading. They’d arranged the dinner. A private table out on one of the balconies overlooking the lake.

It was set apart from the main restaurant, away from the other guests. The kind of place where you could sit for hours, uninterrupted, and watch the lights across the water.

He found a spot near the lobby’s grand piano, quiet, no one playing it at the moment, and sat back in one of the leather chairs. From where he was, he could see through the tall glass doors leading out to the terrace. Beyond them, the view of Lake Como was already turning gold in the early evening light.

He checked his watch out of habit.

They still had time before dinner.

His fingers brushed the small box in his pocket as he leaned back in the chair. The weight of it wasn’t much. But it was enough to keep his mind focused.

He’d waited long enough.

Tonight was it.

He was sure of it.

He was nervous. More than he expected to be.

His hands were a little sweaty, and he found himself rubbing them on the legs of his pants without thinking. It wasn’t because he thought she’d say no.

That never crossed his mind. He loved her. He knew she loved him.

But asking the question, that was something else.

It wasn’t about fear. It was about the weight of it.

Once he said it, there was no taking it back. No second-guessing.

And even though he was sure, even though he was ready, it was still scary in its own way.

Damon sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. His thumb brushed against the edge of the box in his pocket again, almost like a reflex now.

He took a breath and let it out slow. It helped.

He was ready.

There wasn’t anything to run from.