Chapter 73 BOXING
The bell rang.
A sharp metal sound that echoed across the underground room.
Julian moved first. No warning. No testing.
He stepped forward and threw a fast punch toward Anton’s chest.
Anton barely shifted back in time. The glove brushed his shirtless skin.
“Still impatient,” Anton muttered.
Julian didn’t answer.
He threw another punch. This time it landed solid against Anton’s ribs.
The thud echoed.
Anton grunted but didn’t fall back. He swung his own fist toward Julian’s face.
Julian ducked.
Anton’s glove grazed his ear instead.
They circled each other slowly.
Both breathing steady.
Both watching for a slip and a perfect aim.
Julian lunged again. A sharp jab to Anton’s stomach.
Anton’s body folded slightly, but he quickly recovered and drove his fist into Julian’s jaw.
The sound was sickening.
Julian’s head snapped to the side.
The men around the ring tensed.
Julian spat to the side.
A small drop of blood hit the floor.
He smiled.
“That's all you’ve got?” Anton asked.
Julian answered with a kick.
His foot slammed into Anton’s calf.
Anton’s leg buckled for a second.
Julian followed with a punch to the chest.
Anton stumbled back but didn’t fall.
He came back harder.
A direct hit to Julian’s face.
Another one.
Julian’s lip split. He tasted blood.
Warm and metallic in a way that pissed him off even more.
Something shifted in his eyes.
Anton noticed.
“Careful,” Anton warned under his breath.
Julian didn’t listen.
He stepped forward and delivered three rapid punches to Anton’s gut.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Anton’s breath left him in a harsh sound.
But he forced himself upright and swung at Julian’s face again.
His aim was clear.
Face.
Always the face. He plans on leaving bruises where Julian would see.
Julian blocked one punch but the next one connected with his cheekbone.
A dark mark began to form immediately.
Julian retaliated with a brutal kick to Anton’s calf again.
Then another.
Anton hissed.
“You always go for the legs,” Anton said through clenched teeth.
“And you always aim for the pretty parts,” Julian shot back.
Anton smirked. “You don’t deserve pretty.”
They clashed again.
Gloves collided.
Bodies slammed into each other.
Sweat flew under the bright lights.
Julian’s punches were fueled by anger. Raw and heavy. Every hit carried weight.
Anton was stubborn.
He absorbed the blows and returned them just as hard.
A punch to Julian’s ribs.
A jab to his nose.
Julian felt another warm trickle of blood.
He licked it away.
The room grew louder with each hit.
Breathing turned harsher.
Footsteps scraped against the canvas.
Anton swung hard.
Julian blocked high.
Too high.
Anton’s fist drove into Julian’s stomach.
Air left Julian’s lungs.
For a second, he stepped back.
Anton took that moment and hit him again.
This time, directly across the mouth.
Julian staggered.
Blood filled his mouth fully now.
He tasted it.
And something snapped.
His expression changed completely. Cold and empty. Almost psychotic.
Anton saw it too late.
Julian moved fast.
One punch aimed straight at Anton’s face.
Anton lifted his guard, but at the same time—
Julian kicked his calf hard.
A brutal, precise strike.
Anton’s balance gave out.
Julian’s punch slipped past his guard and struck near his eye.
Anton fell.
Hard.
The canvas shook.
Before Anton could recover, Julian was on him.
He straddled him and started raining punches down.
One!
Two!!
Three!!!
Four!!!!
Anton tried to block, but Julian’s blows were relentless.
Each punch landed with a dull, violent sound.
Men around the ring shifted nervously.
No one dared to interfere.
Julian kept hitting.
Anton’s head snapped side to side.
Blood smeared across his cheek.
“Julian,” Anton grunted, trying to push him off.
Another punch landed.
Then another.
Finally, Julian stopped.
Not because someone told him to.
But because his breathing had turned heavy and controlled again.
He stood up slowly.
Stepped back.
Anton lay there for a moment, chest rising and falling.
Julian looked down at him.
Then he kicked his side lightly.
“Get the fuck up.”
Anton groaned but rolled to his side and pushed himself up.
He wiped blood from his lip.
“You stone heart psycho,” Anton muttered.
Julian laughed.
A deep, satisfied laugh.
“Now those words coming from your messed up face,” Julian said, “is fucking pleasing.”
Anton snorted. “Yeah, man. Your face is messed up too. You need a mirror?”
Julian touched his own split lip and smirked.
Two men entered the ring immediately.
They removed the gloves from both of them.
Julian and Anton stepped out of the ring.
Sweat dripped down their bodies.
Their chests rose and fell heavily.
Another set of men approached with towels and water bottles.
Julian grabbed a towel and wiped his face.
Anton took one too.
A man held out bottled water.
Julian and Anton spoke at the same time.
“Get me something strong.”
They both froze.
Slowly turned their heads toward each other.
“You fucking bastard,” they said in sync.
They sat down on a long bench against the wall.
Still breathing hard.
Silence settled between them.
A few minutes later, the men returned with a tray.
A clear bottle of liquor.
Two glasses.
They poured the drinks and placed the tray between Julian and Anton before stepping away.
Julian picked up his glass.
Anton did the same.
They drank without speaking at first.
The burn of the liquor slid down their throats.
After a while, Anton spoke.
“So what’s the deal with you?” he asked. “Finally came back to your senses?”
Julian leaned back against the wall.
“I told you I have things under control,” he said calmly.
Anton raised a brow. “Do you?”
Julian looked at him sideways.
“I’ve successfully taken back most of the properties Henry stole from my father’s empire.”
Anton paused.
Then he nodded slowly.
“I suspected that when Paul Winslow said you visited him,” Anton said. “It’s great to know you’re still the man I know you to be. Always steps ahead.”
Julian took another drink.
“All of the properties are under Paul and Eli’s name,” he said.
Anton’s eyes flicked to him.
“And neither of them have any idea anything is under their name,” Julian continued calmly.
Anton let out a low whistle.
“It was pretty easy to take the ones under Eli’s name,” Julian added. “I got his signature on more than just our marriage contract and certificate.”
Anton laughed. “You manipulative bastard.”
“It was even easier to get Paul’s signature,” Julian said. “The old man is very trusting.”
Anton shook his head, still amused. “So what’s next?”
Julian’s eyes darkened slightly.
“I need to go just a little further,” he said. “Drain Henry of everything he has.”
He took another slow sip.
“Watch him suffer betrayal from his own people when he’s worth less than a dime.”
Anton leaned forward slightly.
“And then?”
Julian’s voice dropped.
“That’s when I’ll go for his head.”
Anton nodded once.
He poured himself another drink.
“Desmond is lurking around a lot lately,” Anton said casually. “And I’ve just confirmed Lovia is affiliated with him.”
Julian’s hand paused around his glass.
Anton continued, “You need to do something about Lovia’s presence. Because if I do something myself, it might be too ugly.”
Julian’s jaw tightened slightly.
“I got it,” he said.
Anton studied him.
“Make sure you do,” Anton replied quietly.
Julian lifted his glass.
Anton raised his own.
The glasses clinked together.
A sharp sound in the quiet underground.