sponsor emblems on his blue shorts went past, rounding the ring for his corner. Unlike his opponent, he climbed in alone as his people raced around to get everything set up.
The music cut off and the emcee introduced the boxers. Green shorts was The King. Blue was God of Death.
My money was on blue, and not just because his name was better. He may have been smaller, but bigger wasn’t always an advantage.
A bell dinged and it was on.
And it was ugly.
I wasn’t sure why the ref was even there because he wasn’t calling a single thing. King fought dirty, aiming for low blow after low blow. God of Death was quick with a dodge and a jab, though he’d yet to connect a good hook.
When the round ended, I tilted my head toward Maximo’s ear. “Who’re we supposed to root for?”
“Doesn’t matter with this one. Who do you like?”
“God of Death.”
“The King is favored to win.”
“And he knows it. He’s too cocky. Death is hungry.”
He lowered his head so his lips grazed the shell of my ear. “I agree.”
A shiver went down my spine, goosebumps spreading across my skin. Since his arm was still wrapped around me, I doubted he missed it.
He never missed much.
The bell rang, and I shifted so I was facing outward rather than sideways.
Death took a couple kidney shots before King dropped his gloves. It was just inches. Just for seconds.
But it was the opening Death had been waiting for. With energy he’d been conserving, he went at him until King was against the ropes.
The ref was close but he wasn’t pulling Death off. He wasn’t forcing the TKO. He wasn’t even trying to get him to back away.
Death is gonna kill him.
Holy shit, he’s gonna kill him.
My frantic eyes turned to Maximo, but he just stared ahead like a robot. The only reaction he gave to the savagery unfolding was his hold tightening so I couldn’t move.
All around me, depravity flowed free and bloodshed went unchecked. It was clear the rules were different there.
Because there were none.
Like it was a train wreck happening in slow-motion, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the devastation. I watched as Death threw a right cross, twisting his pelvis so all his strength went into it.
King slammed to the mat, not even trying to break his fall.
Like deadweight.
My breath froze in my lungs. It whooshed out when King lifted his glove just enough to tap out.
And that was it.
Second round.
Victory by submission.
And no one died.
Shoulders slumped, I grabbed my water and drank half in one go. My heart rate slowed from hummingbird speed, though I was still amped on adrenaline and relief.
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen a no-holds-barred fight. I’d grown up around violence—and not always the spectator kind. It ran in my veins as much as blood.
Rich people betting on fights to the death would’ve pushed me beyond my violence threshold, but as long as everyone left the ring breathing, I was good.
There was a rush to prepare for the next match.
I turned to talk to Maximo, only to find him already watching me. When he didn’t speak, I bragged, “I called it.”
His lips just barely tipped, but I caught it. “I agreed with you.”
“Yeah, but I said it first.”
He lowered his head to kiss me before returning his focus to the preparations. “So you did.”
The second match went longer, making it to round five before ending in an exciting knockout. And, once again, it was ugly but no one died.
During the last break, the emcee hyped the final bout. His efforts worked and more attendees went to place their bets before it was too late.
“That man deserves a fat bonus and a good raise,” I muttered more to myself than Maximo.
Still, he lifted his chin. “Noted.”
Whatever further commentary I may have had died in a lusty fire when Maximo moved to rest his hand on my thigh. There was something about the contrast of his large tattooed hand encircling my pale skin that sent a jolt of need through me. As though he knew the effect he had, his fingertips teased up my inner thigh.
I tilted my head to look at him, but his expression was blank, his eyes hard and alert. In a room full of powerful people, he made it clear he was in charge. That he held the cards and wouldn’t hesitate to take someone down. That he’d enjoy it.
It scared the hell out of me how someone could look so