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I nod, watching as Ben continues to work behind his jab. Reyes is trying to establish his own rhythm, throwing heavyshots that would end the fight if they landed, but Ben's footwork keeps him just out of range.

Two minutes into the first round, Ben sees his opening. Reyes overcommits to a right cross, leaving himself exposed for just a fraction of a second. Ben steps inside the punch and lands a devastating uppercut that snaps Reyes's head back violently.

The crowd explodes as Reyes stumbles backward, his legs betraying him. Ben doesn't waste the opportunity. He follows with a precise left hook that sends Reyes crashing to the canvas, his body going limp before he hits the mat.

The referee is there instantly, waving his arms to signal the end of the fight. Ben has won by knockout in the first round, a statement victory that announces his arrival as a legitimate title contender.

"Damn," Marcus says appreciatively. "Your brother's gotten good."

I nod, genuinely proud despite the tension coiling through my body. "He always had the talent."

The arena erupts in celebration as Ben raises his arms in victory, his face split by a massive grin. The crowd is on its feet, chanting his name, appreciating the clinical precision of the knockout. This is the kind of performance that makes careers, the kind of statement that puts a fighter on the map.

As the celebration continues around us, I watch Vega lead Audrey from their seats, his hand possessively at the small of her back. They'll be heading to the locker room to congratulate Ben personally, which means I'll see her again within minutes.

"Let's go congratulate Ben," I tell Marcus, already moving toward the exit that will take us backstage.

The locker room area is controlled chaos. Trainers, managers, and cornermen move with purpose while the sounds of celebration echo from behind closed doors. The narrow hallways are packed with people trying to get to Ben's lockerroom, everyone wanting to congratulate the new star or position themselves for future opportunities.

By the time we reach Ben's locker room, he's already surrounded by well-wishers, including Vega and Audrey. Ben sits on the bench, still breathing hard from the fight but grinning like a man who just conquered the world. His hands are still wrapped, and there's a small cut above his left eye, but otherwise, he looks untouched.

"There he is!" Ben calls when he spots me, his face flushed with victory and adrenaline. "Did you see that combination in the first round?"

"Flawless," I say, clapping him on the shoulder. "You've improved."

Ben beams at the praise, then turns to include Vega in the conversation. "Couldn't have done it without my sponsor. Gio's been instrumental in getting me fights like this."

Vega nods, accepting the credit with practiced humility. "Ben has natural talent. I just provide the opportunities."

My gaze shifts to Audrey, who stands slightly behind Vega, her expression carefully neutral. She's changed out of the red dress from earlier, now wearing a black cocktail dress that's appropriate for the post-fight celebrations. Our eyes lock for a brief, electric moment before she looks away, a flush creeping up her neck.

"That knockout was beautiful," Vega continues, his accent thickening with excitement. "Technical precision combined with devastating power. The networks are going to love this footage."

"Reyes was tough," Ben says, unwrapping his hands with practiced efficiency. "But I've been working on that uppercut for months. Knew it would be there if I was patient."

"Patience is the mark of a champion," Vega agrees. "Speaking of which, we should celebrate tonight's victory properly."

"I'm up for it," Ben says enthusiastically. "Where did you have in mind?"

"The Summit," Vega announces. "I've already made arrangements for a private section. You should join us, Reign. And Marcus, of course."

The Summit is Cooper Heights' most exclusive gaming club, the kind of place where high-stakes poker games run all night and discretion is guaranteed.

"Great idea," Ben says. "It would be good to catch up, Reign. It's been too long."

I don't take my eyes off Audrey as I answer. "Wouldn't miss it."

Her face pales slightly, the only indication that my presence affects her.

"Perfect," Vega says, oblivious to the current running between me and his supposed fiancée. "Give us an hour to get cleaned up and head over."

"What time?" Marcus asks.

"Say, eleven o'clock?" Vega replies. "I'll have them reserve the VIP section."

"We'll be there," I confirm.

The trainer interrupts to check Ben's cut, and the conversation shifts to post-fight medical protocols. As the group begins to disperse, Audrey glances back at me, her eyes meeting mine for a brief, charged moment. In that look, I see a flicker of the woman who surrendered to me in San Diego. Vulnerable, passionate, real. Then it's gone, replaced by the careful mask of Audrey Worthington, society princess and perfect fiancée.