Page 21 of His Asset
Though the air was thick with sweat, testosterone, and the metallic scent of blood, the crowd was as much a mix of expensive suits as it was street thugs.Everyone was united by the hunger in their eyes as money changed hands faster than I could track.
An announcer fed off the crowd’s savagery, his voice thundering over the chaos like a war drum rattling deep into bones.“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we give you pure, unfiltered combat!Make some noise for our next competitors, the stars of the show!Chief and Bloodhound!”
The side door slammed open and a giant of a man with a green Mohawk and a flattened nose, his biceps bulging under inked skulls, strode out to a thunderous roar.He climbed through the ropes, all menace and muscle, clearly delighting in the crowd’s roar, soaking it in like fuel.The spotlight lingered on him for a few seconds longer before it shifted.
Reuben—Chief—hadn’t moved.Not yet.
Then he turned to me, and everything slowed.The chaos around us fell into a hush that almost felt sacred.His eyes locked onto mine, not with tenderness, but with possession.With purpose.
Then, without warning, he grabbed me by the waist and kissed me.
It wasn’t gentle.It was a declaration.A brand.A touch that left my lips tingling and my body aching even as my mind turned numb.The kiss might have scorched through my body like fire, but it was the aftermath that burned deeper.
The crowd erupted, half in awe, half in envy.Cameras flashed.Chants rose.My breath caught, my body frozen between instinct and confusion.
Chief pulled back just enough to whisper against my lips, “You’re my lucky charm.”
He peeled off his robe, slow and deliberate, revealing rippling musculature along with scars that told stories I didn’t want to know.The crowd roared again, but I barely heard it.My eyes were on the cameras, those blinking red eyes perched on shoulders, mounted to rails, held up by eager hands.
They’d captured everything.
My face.
His kiss.
The way I didn’t pull away.
Then Reuben—no, he truly was Chief now—stalked down the stairs and toward the fight ring like a king returning to his throne.
I felt it then.The cold slide of fear down my spine.Not because of Reuben.Not because of Bloodhound.But because somewhere, Adam was watching.Or would be.The underground footage would spread like wildfire.And he’d see me.
His creation.
His runaway.
His asset.
My pulse stuttered.I tried to shrink into the shadows, but it was too late.I’d been lit up like a flare.
Reuben pulled on his fight gloves, then climbed into the ring like he belonged to it.Like it had missed him.The crowd chanted his name, but I couldn’t join them.I was already calculating escape routes.Already wondering how long I had before Adam sent someone to drag me back.
Lucky charm?No.I’d just become a beacon.