Chapter 58 *

Chapter 58 Chapter 58
Robert’s POV
I watched the redhead drop her opponent like a sack of bricks. Clean knockout. The crowd went wild, but I just leaned back against the wall, studying her. Been running this place for years now—you learn to spot trouble before it walks through the door.
This woman? She wasn't trouble. Not yet, anyway.
Three of my guys pushed through the crowd toward me. Jimmy reached me first, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"Boss, you seeing this shit?" he asked.
I didn't answer. Just kept my eyes on the ring while the redhead raised her fists in victory.
"Who is she?" I asked.
Jimmy shrugged. "No fucking clue where this chick came from, but she's been tearing through opponents since she got here. Hasn't lost a single match. Pretty sure she's not with Meadow Pack though."
Eric stepped up beside him. "Never heard of her before tonight. But she doesn't look like she's here to cause problems."
I nodded, processing. As long as she wasn't here to fuck with my business, she could stay. Hell, she was good for revenue—people loved watching her fight.
"Keep an eye on her," I said. "Long as she's not starting shit, we're good."
The guys nodded and melted back into the crowd. I relaxed a little, then remembered something.
Aria.
She'd said something earlier about meeting someone here tonight. I turned to where she'd been standing.
"Hey Aria, who'd you say you were meeting here again? Who was it—"
Empty space.
My stomach dropped. I scanned the crowd, head whipping left and right. Where the fuck did she go?
Then someone in the crowd started shouting.
I looked up at the ring.
The redhead was still there, but she wasn't alone anymore. Another figure stood across from her.
My blood ran cold.
Aria.
"What the fuck—" I breathed.
When did she get up there? How did I not see her climb into that ring?
Before I could move, Aria struck. One hit. Two. Three precise blows that made the redhead stumble backward. Then a final strike that sent the undefeated fighter crashing to the mat.
The crowd erupted.
I just stood there, frozen.
"Boss—" Jimmy grabbed my arm. "Boss, is that—"
"Holy shit!" Eric yelled. "That girl just took her down! That woman won like twenty fights in a row!"
"Twenty straight," another guy said, pushing forward. "That girl just dropped her like it was fucking nothing."
"Boss, where the hell did you find this girl?" Jimmy asked, eyes still glued to the ring.
All of them were staring—necks craned, eyes wide, voices overlapping with questions I couldn't answer.
I'd seen what Aria could do before. Knew she had skills. But this?
This was something else entirely.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. Slowly, I straightened up and looked at my guys.
"She's my niece," I said.
Their jaws dropped even further.
Jesus Christ, Aria, I thought. What the hell are you?





Angelina’s POV
The crowd's roar hit me the second I stepped onto the platform. I rolled my shoulders. Still getting used to being an Omega.
Across from me, the woman dropped into her fighting stance. Left side heavy, just like always.
"Ready when you are, sweetheart," she called out, voice mocking.
I didn't answer. Just watched her feet.
The crowd pressed closer to the cage. Money changed hands. Someone yelled about odds.
I moved first.
My leg snapped up toward her stomach—fast, direct. She saw it coming and dropped her arms to block.
Gotcha.
I pulled the kick back mid-swing and launched myself up. The world tilted as I spun over her head. Platform lights, screaming faces, her shocked expression—then I landed behind her.
My hand found the back of her neck. Fingers pressed against the vertebrae junction. One twist and it would be over.
I held the position for three seconds. Long enough for her to understand.
"You're still as easy to fool as ever, Kingfisher," I said.
She went completely still. Her entire body locked up like she'd been hit with a paralytic. The color drained from her face.
"Lina?" The name came out barely above a whisper, cracked and disbelieving.
"Yeah." I let go and stepped back. "Let's talk off the platform."
I vaulted over the ropes. Kingfisher followed.
The crowd started yelling.
"Wait, they're leaving?"
"What the hell? No blood yet!"
"Come back! We paid good money!"
Their voices faded as we moved through the back corridors. Too fast for the humans to track.
We didn't stop until we reached the alley outside.
Rain misted down around us. A broken streetlight flickered overhead, casting weird shadows on the wet pavement.
Kingfisher stared at me. I stared back.
Neither of us spoke for a long moment.
A car alarm went off somewhere down the block. Still, we didn't talk.
Finally, she broke the silence. "What happened to you? Everyone said you were dead."
Dead. Yeah. I remember the gunshots. The blood. The fade to black.
"Let's just say I got a second chance," I said. "Bit of a downgrade in the body department, but hey—clean slate."
She studied my face. I watched her eyes narrow, then widen as she pieced it together.
"So the legendary Alpha King is now what, a high school Omega?" She laughed and ran a hand through her red hair. "That's either cosmic justice or the universe's idea of a sick joke."
"So are you jealous?" I asked.
The Pack Wars. The consolidation of North America. The political games where one wrong move meant a knife in the dark. We'd both talked about wanting out, late nights when the bodies piled too high. But once you step into that world, there's no walking away. Some people tried. Most ended up dead within a year.
"Every damn day," she said quietly. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "But we both know how that story ends."
I nodded.
She took a drag, then seemed to shake off the mood. "Business first." She pulled a bank card from her jacket and handed it over. "Thousand dollars. Emergency fund. PIN is your old apartment number."
I pocketed it. "Thanks. How's Riverbend Pack holding up?"
"The Elder Council has their wrinkly hands on the wheel. Everything's stable. Boring, even." She paused. "You coming back?"
Am I? This second life just dropped into my lap. Fifteen again. No targets on my back. No assassination attempts.
"I earned this reset," I said. "Gonna enjoy being nobody for a while."
Her eyes lit up. "Does that mean I can take a vacation? Actual time off? Maybe hit Cancún, drink something with an umbrella in it?"
I smiled. "You've earned it. Take two weeks. Hell, take three."
"Thank God. I was starting to forget what beaches looked like."
Heavy footsteps echoed from the alley entrance. Multiple heartbeats.
We both went silent immediately. A decade of survival instincts kicking in.
"Aria! There you are!"
Uncle Robert walked toward us with three of his guys. His eyes locked onto Kingfisher, taking in her stance, her presence.
Here we go. Time to play normal teenage niece.
"That fight was incredible!" Robert continued, gesturing enthusiastically. "The speed, the technique—I've never seen anything like it! And you must be Aria's friend. I'm Robert, Aria's uncle. I help run this place."
"Uncle Robert, this is Gabrielle," I said. "We go way back."
Robert stuck out his hand. "Any friend of Aria's is welcome here! Great to meet you, Gabrielle. You visiting from another pack?"
Gabrielle shook his hand. "Château Noir Pack. In France."
Then she said something in rapid French. Perfect Parisian accent.
Smooth. She probably learned that for a job in Lyon a few years ago.
Robert looked impressed. "French! Fancy. You know what, you two should come to my office. I've got some good whiskey. We can celebrate that amazing fight."
His heartbeat's elevated. Too enthusiastic. He wants something.
"Sure, Uncle Robert," I said. "Lead the way."
We followed Robert back through the building. The main platform came into view as we passed through the central corridor.
The crowd was going wild over the next fight.
"Ten bucks on the blonde!"
"Nah, the brunette's got reach!"
Robert's office sat in the far corner of the building. White soundproof walls. Reinforced door. Smart setup for private conversations.
He unlocked it and gestured us inside. "Make yourselves comfortable, ladies."
The office was simple. Desk, chairs, a cabinet with some expensive-looking bottles on top. A few paintings on the walls. Nothing too fancy.
Robert grabbed three glasses and a bottle of whiskey. "So, Gabrielle, how long are you in town?"
Before she could answer, someone knocked on the door.
One of Robert's guys stuck his head in. "Boss, we got a situation. East side, near the cage matches. Looks like it might get ugly."
Robert sighed. "Duty calls. You ladies make yourselves comfortable. Help yourselves to the drinks. I'll be right back."
He left, closing the door behind him.
Gabrielle opened her mouth to speak.
I held up my hand to stop her.
There it is. That itch at the back of my skull. The one that's kept me alive through a hundred ambushes. Electronic signatures. Two of them.
I reached out through the mind link. Third vase from the left on the cabinet.
Gabrielle moved casually toward the cabinet. She picked up the vase like she was just examining it, then palmed something small. She looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
I pointed at the lamp on the desk.
She walked over and found the second device.
Sensory Detection. One of the few Alpha King abilities that survived the reincarnation. I can feel electronic devices like pressure against my skin. Years of dodging Coalition spies and Elder Council power plays taught me to never trust a private room. This body might be weaker, but my instincts? Those are hardwired into my soul.
Gabrielle crushed both bugs between her fingers. The tiny fragments fell to the floor.
We looked at each other. No words needed.
Gabrielle finally spoke out loud. "So. Your uncle's keeping tabs on you."
"Looks like it," I said.
"You know what he wants?"
"Not yet. But I'll find out."
She nodded slowly. "You need backup?"
"Nah. I can handle Uncle Robert." I picked up one of the whiskey glasses and examined it. "Besides, you've got a vacation to plan."
"True. But if things get weird, you call me. I don't care if I'm on a beach in Mexico."
"Deal."