Page 2 of The Devil's Wrath

I let out a hollow laugh. “I’m fine, Vera. Just lost track of time.”

She studied me for a moment as her gaze slowly searched mine for the truth I refused to reveal. After a lengthy assessment, she sighed and shook her head. “Alright, well, hurry up. We’re going to be late for the fight.”

I nodded absently, my mind still lost in the void. “I’ll be out in a minute.” My voice sounded distant, even to my ears.

Vera hesitated, her concern palpable, but she finally turned and left, closing the door behind herself. I sank back into the water, letting it envelop me once more.

Fuck. The fight. I had almost forgotten.

I had promised to watch the fight between Reggie “Pain” Parker and The Bronze Devil. My boyfriend, Connor, was ranked number one in the underground boxing ring and was doing well at the collegiate level, but rumors on the street mentioned how quickly The Bronze Devil was storming through the echelon, winning every match so far, and the underground boxing world predicted that the overall middleweight title Connor held was on the line.

Which he was not happy about.

I pulled myself out of the tub, water cascading off my body as I reached for a towel. The fight was the last thing on my mind, but I had made a promise. Connor needed me there, needed my support as he scoped out what could be his most formidable opponent yet. We’d been dating for over a year, and I knew how much his boxing career meant to him—that, and becoming the next governor of New York. His father, Charles McKinley, was a state senator, and he had aspirations for his son to follow in his footsteps.

As I dried off and slipped into a black dress, my eyes drifted to the scarred skin on my back, a reminder that I’d survived but my parents hadn’t.

The faded, jagged skin was a testament to the darkest part of my life, a moment that had shattered my world and left me broken. I traced my fingers over the scars, feeling the raised, rough texture beneath my fingertips and the familiar ache in my chest. The physical pain had long since faded, but the emotional scars remained as deep and raw as ever.

Five years this Christmas.

I tore my gaze away from the mirror, lifting the straps of my dress to hide my scars. Then I finished getting ready, applying a layer of dark lipstick and smoky eyeshadow. I slipped on a pair of black heelsand grabbed my clutch, taking one last look in the mirror before heading out to meet Vera.

The fight was being heldin an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, where authorities ignored the illegal activities that took place within its walls. As we approached the entrance, I heard the roar of the crowd, the pounding of fists against flesh, and smelled the metallic scent of blood hanging in the air.

After spotting Connor in the front row, his jaw clenched, we weaved through the crowd to reach him.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his voice strained. “You made it.”

I nodded, taking my seat beside him with Vera on my left. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the venue as the announcer entered the ring. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he boomed. “Welcome to the fight of the century! In the red corner, we have the fearsome contender, Reggie ‘Pain’ Parker!”

The crowd erupted in cheers as Reggie stepped into the ring, muscles rippling under his tanned skin. He raised his fists into the air, a cocky grin on his face.

“And in the blue corner, coming out weighing 175 pounds,” the announcer continued, “the challenger, the one and only Bronze Devil!”

The Bronze Devil emerged from the shadows, his devil mask glinting in the lights, showcasing his glistening, sculpted body. He moved with a predatory grace, his lean, muscular frame covered in intricate tattoos. He pulled his mask off and tossed it to his trainer. His chiseled features were set in a stoic mask, his piercing green eyes focused solely on his opponent. As he stepped into the ring, the crowd’s cheers morphed into a mix of boos and hushed whispers.

I leaned forward, my eyes drawn to the enigmatic figure. His eyes met mine, and my breath caught in my lungs. There was something about him, an aura of danger and allure, that I couldn’t quite place.Connor tensed beside me, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of his seat.

When the referee called the fighters to the center of the ring and gave them the usual pre-fight instructions. Reggie smirked, his arrogance radiating off him in waves. The Bronze Devil remained impassive, his gaze never changing.

The bell rang, and the fight began. Reggie charged forward, throwing a flurry of punches aimed at The Bronze Devil’s head. But the challenger was too quick, dodging each blow with fluid grace. He countered with a series of swift jabs, his fists a blur of motion.

As the fight progressed, it became clear that this Devil was no ordinary boxer. His movements were precise, calculated, almost otherworldly. He seemed to anticipate Reggie’s every move, striking with a speed and ferocity that left Reggie reeling.

The Bronze Devil’s eyes, a radiant green, scanned the crowd before locking onto mine. For a moment, the world fell away, and it was just the two of us, our gazes locked in a silent battle of wills. Something stirred deep within me, a flicker of recognition, of familiarity. It was as if I had known him in another life, another time. For the first time in a long time, it felt like there was a light breaking through the haze of the void I had been living in for years, like the sun peeking through the clouds after a rainstorm.

Connor’s hand on my thigh broke the spell, and I tore my gaze away, my heart pounding.

What the hell was that?

Round after round, the Devil dominated, his face a mask of calm determination. Reggie grew increasingly frustrated, his swings becoming wild and erratic. In the final round, with Reggie battered and barely standing, The Bronze Devil delivered a crushing blow that sent Reggie crumpling to the mat. The crowd was stunned into silence as the referee counted down.

“Ten!”

The announcer jumped in. “The Bronze Devil wins by knockout!”

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