I exhaled sharply, refocusing.
Another shot. Another clean hit to the head.
I turned to him, lips twitching. “Still think I need lessons?”
Zane gave me a small smirk, but I saw it in his eyes – the empathy beneath.
The tension stretched, thick and charged, before I finally looked away. My fingers curled around the gun, but the weight of Zane’s attention was heavier.
“I still don’t think I can kill a real person,” I admitted, voice quieter than intended.
Zane didn’t answer right away.
He just hummed, stepped forward and handed me a different firearm.
Like he knew something I didn’t.
Chapter 18
Present
Manhattan, New York City
THE ROAR OF THE CROWD was deafening.
A living, breathing beast that shook the walls of Python’s underground fight club.
I rolled my shoulders, stretching my arms out as I stepped toward the center of the cage. The bright overhead lights cast a harsh glow on the bloodstained mat beneath me, the scent of sweat, metal, and adrenaline thick in the air.
Across from me, my opponent loomed – a massive wall of muscle, easily six-three, with arms thick enough to snap a man’s neck like a twig. His knuckles were already split from a previous fight, blood smeared across his chest like war paint.
Another undefeated fighter.
Another test.
My second grand fight.
I exhaled through my nose, keeping my face neutral, my stance loose.
To the side, outside the cage, I caught sight of Tony.
He wasn’t cheering, wasn’t grinning like the rest of the maniacs in the crowd. He met my eyes and gave me a single, sharp nod.
I let out a slow breath, but my attention drifted higher –
To the pit.
To the colosseum-like structure above, where the real power watched from multiple levels of the warehouse.
I could barely make out their faces in the dim lighting, but I could feel their presence, their energy bleeding into the space below.
And yet…
I only cared about one person.
I turned my head toward the black glass wall of Zane’s office.
I couldn’t see through it. No one could.