Page 104 of Celestial Combat

I saw the opening.

Spun. Roundhouse. Landed clean against his head.

He dropped, head smashing into the mat.

The bell rang. I stood in the center of the cage, chest heaving, sweat running down my temple.

The club exploded.

I was surrounded – voices shouting my name, people chantingMeisaover and over. Lights flashed. Bottles cracked open. Even the announcer sounded breathless as he roared into the mic, “Your reigning champion –Meisa!”

I turned, trying to find Zane in the crowd. When I finally met his black eyes, he wasn’t clapping.

Expression blank. Just… Distant.

I hesitated. Goddamn it.

And then he turned, disappearing into the shadows without a word.

An hour had passed since my match, but the air was still electric, thick with something heavy and waiting.

Tony’s fight was next.

Tony DeMone – Underground undefeated champion. From the East Coast to the West.

Outnumbered fights. Uncounted wins.

While there were no rules at Python against men and women fighting, there were categories. And luckily for me, Tony and I were both reigning champions of different categories.

Some fighters craved the thrill of the fight, the glory of victory. Tony? He fought like it was just another Tuesday. Like winning was his birthright.

We moved through the warehouse, cutting through the bodies with ease. The roar of the crowd blurred into something distant as we walked side by side, past fighters, past bet-makers, past the men in suits leaning against the walls like they were scouting their next investment.

“Think we have time to eat before your fight?”

“You just ate an hour ago and you’re already thinking about food?”

“Winning makes me hungry.”

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. “You sound like a spoiled house cat.”

Before I could respond, a laugh rang out through the noise.

Sharp. Feminine. Unapologetic.

Tony’s steps cut off.

I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Tony’s jaw ticked as his head snapped toward the sound, his whole body going stiff.

I exhaled slowly as he changed course, shoving through the crowd toward the bar. I followed.

We found her easily – Kimberley Moretti and her entourage, draped over the bar like they owned the place.

And, honestly? She kind of did.

Kimberley Moretti. Twenty years old. Daughter of Salvatore Moretti – Boss of one of the Five Families. Cosa Nostra royalty. And Natalia’s half-sister.

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