Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Brant

I was ready. This was the final round, and I couldn’t wait to face that motherfucker. My opponent was Don Franco’s man. I needed to defeat him not just for the victory, but so Franco would understand exactly who I was. No one would ever dare touch me again. I knew his son was the one who tried to cripple me, but Einstein never did anything without his father’s approval.

Leslie walked up to me, confidence etched on her face, radiating from her stride. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“I’ve never been more ready in my entire life,” I said, my chest burning with fire. “This isn’t just about winning. It’s about finishing what I started.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder, then leaned in and crushed her lips against mine. Her kiss was smoky, intoxicating, the kind of taste that lingers like sin. And damn it, I kissed her back, my hand almost rising to pull her closer, the pull dragging me deeper.

And then—Sable’s face flashed in my mind. That beautiful face. That smile, those eyes that stripped me bare. Guilt struck like lightning, but I shoved it down. What the hell was I doing? It wasn’t wrong—she had already chosen my brother. But it felt wrong.

Jericho cleared his throat. “I’m still here, you know,” he muttered.

Leslie pulled back, lipstick smeared across her mouth. She licked it slowly, her tongue swirling across her lips before sucking them in the way she knew I liked. Then she leaned forward and wiped the smear from my mouth.

“Let’s do this, Brant. This is important,” she said firmly.

I nodded. And then my phone rang.

That call would change everything.

I glanced at the screen, then answered. “Hello… what do you want?”

A pause. Then his voice.

“What?” I barked, my chest going cold, the fire extinguishing. Jericho and Leslie both turned toward me, sensing something was wrong.

At first it was the usual threats, words I’d heard before. They didn’t faze me. But then he said it. He had Sable. And if I didn’t come right away, he’d kill her.

That hit me like a sledgehammer. The ground fell out from under me.

I ended the call. My hand was shaking as I shoved the phone away. “I have to go,” I said.

“What? Go where?” Leslie’s eyes widened in shock. Jericho stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

And maybe I had. I’d given everything to get here, fought and bled my way to the final. This was my moment. And I was throwing it away. Of course I looked crazy. And now I was about to walk away. To throw it all away. Yeah, I’d lost my fucking mind—for the woman I cared about, the woman my brother loved.

But if I didn’t go, if I ignored that threat, I knew he’d make good on it. He’d kill her. And I couldn’t let that happen. Not to Sable. I didn’t even know why he was doing this, but none of that mattered.

Between this fight and Sable, there was no choice. She came first. Always. I could live without a title. But I could never live with myself if anything happened to her.

“Leslie, this is important. I really need to go. I’m sorry. Can’t Jericho replace me?”

“You know he can’t,” she snapped. “What the hell is going on?”

“Leslie… I’m sorry. But I have to go.”

I didn’t wait for her reply. I turned and ran, her curses echoing behind me. I knew after this she’d probably hate me. And I wouldn’t blame her.

I burst out of the arena, my footsteps pounding, my pulse roaring in my ears. I climbed into my car and gripped the wheel so hard my knuckles whitened. I paused, staring back at the arena, the lights blazing, the crowd inside waiting for me. My chest rose and fell in ragged bursts.

What the fuck do I do?

Every part of me screamed to go back in there, to finish what I’d started, to claim the fight I’d bled for. But Sable…

Sable was out there, in danger, and she was worth more than glory, more than pride. More than everything.

If I stayed, I’d win the fight but lose her. And if anything happened to her because of me, I’d never forgive myself.

My heart thundered so violently it hurt. And still, I couldn’t shake the war tearing me apart inside.

I had to choose.



Sable

I woke with my eyes unbearably heavy, like lead pressing down on my eyelids. Slowly, I forced them open, blinking against the blur until shapes began to sharpen. My head throbbed, vision swimming as I tried to focus on my surroundings.

I was in a room… and inside a cage.

Cold iron bars boxed me in, the air stale and suffocating. I pushed myself up on shaky legs, clutching the rail for balance.

What the hell is happening? Why am I inside a cage? I was supposed to be in the arena, supposed to be there cheering for Brant, not… here. Trapped like an animal.

“Someone…” I croaked, my voice raw, my throat rasping as though sand had been poured down it. Each word burned, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. “Please… someone.”

Footsteps echoed, each one fueling the dread that spread through me. My stomach knotted. “Someone… please. Help… who’s there?”

A figure emerged. As he came closer, my breath caught, and when I saw him, my blood turned cold. Messy brown hair, sharp cheekbones, piercing blue eyes… I could never forget.

Lucas. Leslie’s brother.

But why? Why does he have me locked up?

He smiled then, a twisted, venomous grin that never reached his eyes. They stayed flat, dead, while one corner of his mouth curled upward as if he was savoring my fear. It was the kind of smile that promised pain, that made my skin crawl.

“Hello, little bird,” he drawled.

“Lucas… what do you want?” I shouted, forcing my voice louder than the fear strangling me. My knees shook, but I gripped the bars tighter.

“Don’t worry. I don’t want you,” he said smoothly. “I already called him. Told him if he doesn’t want anything to happen to you, he needs to be here. Right now.”

My chest heaved. I had no idea how long I’d been here, or if Brant had fought already. But hearing Lucas, I knew he hadn’t. “You… you want him to miss the fight?”

“Correct.” His grin widened. “And you’re making it so damn easy. I had one of my men keeping an eye on you, and like a fool you came out alone. You handed yourself to me. How I would love to see Brant fail that fight. I’ll relish every damn moment.”

“But why? That fight—your club, your reputation—it matters.”

“Do you think I care about that?” he spat. His voice cracked with rage. “I don’t give a shit about the club, the drugs, the reputation. None of it. That bastard stole everything from me. The club. The businesses. The name. The respect. My own sister worships the ground he walks on like he’s untouchable. And then—” his eyes burned with a feverish light—“he took the woman I loved. The only woman I’ll ever love. I’ll never love anyone the way I loved her. And not only that, he took my fame. My pride. Brant doesn’t deserve any of it. He deserves to suffer. I wish I’d never met him.”

He sucked his teeth, pacing like a caged animal. “To think… he was once my best friend.”

“And if you let him,” I said carefully, forcing calm into my voice, “I’m sure he still would be. Brant doesn’t want to take from you. He’d give it back, if you’d only let him. Please—don’t do this. He won’t even come for me. That fight means everything to him. More than me. I…” My voice broke. “I don’t want to die.”

I was trying to reach the part of him that still remembered who Brant once was. But inside, panic clawed at me. Would Brant even come for me? That fight meant everything to him. Everything. I didn’t want to die, but I wasn’t sure if saving me would be worth it to him.

Lucas shook his head violently. “No. I’m ending it today. I’ll finally take something from him. The fight means nothing to me—only Leslie gives a damn about it. But if he loses this… it will break him. I can ruin him. Watch him burn.”

“Lucas… if you don’t care about the club, the drugs, the fight—then just walk away. Build a life you actually want. Do something you love. You only live once. Why waste it all on this hate?”

His smile dropped, replaced with a hard, cold glare. “I’m no fucking coward,” he growled. “I don’t walk away. If I have to lose everything, then someone else has to lose too.”

He reached into his jeans and pulled out a silver gun. He raised it slowly, leveling it at me through the bars.

My whole body went rigid, chest tightening until I could barely breathe. My hands gripped the rail so hard my knuckles ached. My heart pounded, deafening, slamming against my ribs as though it wanted to escape. Terror crawled up my spine, chilling me from the inside out. Every nerve screamed to move, but my legs locked in place. Where the fuck would I even go?

As he stepped closer, the barrel aimed squarely at me, I could see the hatred burning in his eyes. Tears pricked the corners of mine, but I refused to let them fall. And all I could think was this might be the last thing I ever see.