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"Arthur was a visionary. The merger between our companies will honor that legacy while taking it to the next level."

"Should be good for everyone," Ben says, his focus already shifting. "Especially after tonight's fight."

I watch Audrey's face carefully as the conversation continues. Her smile never wavers, but something flickers in her eyes. Resignation, maybe, or trapped desperation. Her body language tells a different story than her words. She stands perfectly straight, the picture of a supportive fiancée, but her free hand clenches at her side.

"We're expecting big things from tonight," Gio says, his satisfaction obvious. "Ben's performance will set the tone for everything that comes next."

Ben nods, but I can see his mind is elsewhere now. Pre-fight nerves starting to kick in, the mental preparation that every fighter goes through.

"And what do you do, Reign? Besides coaching strategy?" Gio asks, his attention shifting back to me.

"Security consulting," I reply, keeping my answer brief. The less information I give this bastard, the better.

"Interesting." His dark eyes assess me with new interest. "Private or corporate?"

"Both."

Audrey's gaze darts between us, tension radiating from her small frame. She knows I'm being deliberately vague, just as I know she's fighting to maintain her composure.

"Well," Gio says after a moment, apparently deciding I'm not worth further investigation, "we should let Ben focus on his preparation. There are some people upstairs I want Audrey to meet before the fight starts."

The way he says it makes my hands curl into fists.

"Of course," Audrey agrees smoothly. "It was wonderful meeting you both."

Her eyes meet mine for just a second, and I see everything she can't say. The fear, the longing, the desperate wish that things were different.

"Good luck tonight, Ben," Gio says, extending his hand to my brother. "Show them what Vega Promotions fighters are made of."

"Count on it, boss," Ben replies, shaking his hand firmly.

"Enjoy the fight, gentlemen," Gio says, already guiding Audrey toward the door with his hand firmly planted on her lower back.

I watch them go, memorizing the way her dress moves with each step, the graceful line of her neck, the way she holds herself with perfect posture even when she's clearly trapped.

Ben turns back to me once they're gone, his expression shifting to something more serious. "Thanks for coming tonight, Reign. It means everything to have you here."

"Wouldn't miss it," I say, clasping his shoulder. "You ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." He grins, but I can see the focus sharpening in his eyes. "Reyes is tough, but I've been preparing for this fight my whole life."

"Then go show them what you're made of."

"I will." Ben moves toward his gear bag, already transitioning into fight mode. "We'll talk after, yeah? There's a lot I want to catch up on."

"Count on it."

Marcus and I head toward the door, leaving Ben to his final preparations. The hallway outside the locker room buzzes with pre-fight energy. Cornermen running last-minute errands, officials checking credentials, the controlled chaos that happens before every major fight. The air is thick with anticipation, the kind of electric energy that builds when hundreds of people gather to watch two men test themselves against each other.

"We need to find somewhere to sit," Marcus says quietly. "Before you do something that fucks up Ben's career."

I follow him toward our seats in the VIP section, my mind reeling from what just happened. The woman I've been tearing apart Wyoming to find is engaged to my brother's sponsor. The woman who gave me a fake name and disappeared without a trace is about to marry a man who makes my skin crawl.

Our seats are perfectly positioned—close enough to the ring to see every detail of the fight, but far enough from Vega's private box that I won't have to watch his hands on Audreythroughout the evening. The arena continues to fill as fight time approaches, the crowd's energy building with each passing minute.

"What the fuck was that?" Marcus asks once we're seated and out of earshot.

"That's her," I growl.