Page 66 of Shattered by Grace (The Locke Empire Duet #1)

Chapter Fifty-Five

W hen she came out of the locker room, Tristan and Tyson weren’t sparring, this was a blood-for-blood fight.

“What the fuck?” Victoria yelled, dropping her bag and sprinting toward Tony, who was standing nearby.

“Tony, what’s going on?” She glanced at him before turning her gaze to the mat. “Tristan, Tyson, stop!”

For a brief moment, Tristan hesitated, just long enough for Tyson to land a punch to his stomach.

Victoria didn’t wait for Tony’s response. She hopped through the ropes, determined to stop the fight.

“Get back!” Tyson growled, holding out his hand to shove her away.

Just as Victoria reached them, Justin grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back. She didn’t see who it was, and instinctively started fighting.

“What the fuck?” she hissed, throwing an elbow into his stomach. He dropped her instantly.

Victoria spun around, ready to land a crushing blow, but froze when she saw it was Justin.

“It’s just me. It’s me.” He covered his face, trying to protect himself.

Coward.

“ What’s going on?” Victoria demanded, her voice sharp with fury. “Stop this, now!”

She turned to yell at the fighters, just as Tristan landed a brutal blow to Tyson’s face, splitting his eyebrow wide open.

Blood smeared down Tyson’s cheek, but he barely flinched.

Tristan’s own eyebrow dripped crimson, the cut from the fight his father had forced him into earlier splitting open again from Tyson’s hit.

The air pulsed with the crack of fists meeting flesh, charged with the raw, feral energy of brothers who had been waiting for this fight their entire lives.

Victoria surged forward, determined to stop them, only for a hand to clamp around her leg, yanking her off balance.

Justin.

She hit the ground hard, rage flaring white-hot as his voice cut through the chaos.

“No. Stop. Let them work this out.”

Instinct took over. She twisted mid-fall, snapping her leg out in a vicious kick. Her shoe connected with his face, a sickening crack echoing as he stumbled back, clutching his nose.

Victoria pushed herself up, chest heaving, eyes blazing. “That’s what you get,” she seethed. “Don’t ever touch me again, you piece of shit.”

Justin stumbled back, raising his hands in surrender, but fear was clear in his eyes now.

Her words cut through the tension like a blade, and without hesitation, Tristan spun on Tyson, his cold fury igniting. He grabbed his brother by the throat with a brutal force that lifted Tyson off the ground, his legs dangling in the air.

Tristan’s voice was chillingly calm, just like Klaus in those moments of perfect control.

“You think you’re tough, Tyson?” Tristan sneered, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re pathetic. Do you really believe I’m going to let you run your mouth and your fists like this?

You’re my fucking brother, and this is the last time I let you forget it. ”

With a sudden, violent motion, Tristan slammed Tyson to the ground, the impact echoing through the gym.

Tyson smirked, looking Tristan dead in the eye, even as blood dripped from his split brow.

“You don’t get to decide, Tristan.” His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, something unraveling beneath the surface.

“I’ve bled for this family just as much as you have.

And you—,” he let out a bitter laugh, “you don’t even fucking want it. ”

Tyson’s smirk faded as his eyes flashed with resentment, betrayal, perhaps even jealousy. With a scoff, he stormed off, his fist slamming into a nearby locker, the metal denting under his rage.

Tristan turned toward Justin, stepping closer, his movements purposeful and terrifying. Justin scrambled backward on his ass, but Tristan was too fast. He loomed over him, his gaze deadly.

“Don’t ever fucking put your hands on her again, or I’ll make sure the next time you talk, it’ll be through a straw. Understand?”

With a final look of disdain, Tristan grabbed Victoria’s hand, helping her up. Their fingers intertwined as they walked over to where her gym bag had been discarded. Tristan bent down, scooping it up effortlessly before slinging it over his shoulder.

They started walking toward the door, but Justin’s voice stopped them.

“See you tomorrow, Victoria,” he called out, his voice dripping with something that made her stomach twist. “You and Taylor at the ball, right?”

Tristan squeezed Victoria’s hand, his eyes not matching the smile he gave as he brushed a gentle kiss against her knuckles. When he pulled away, his expression hardened as he turned toward Justin.

Tristan yanked Justin by the collar, slamming him against the nearest wall with a force that rattled the air around them.

“You think you’re safe?” Tristan’s voice was calm. Too calm. “You think my father’s gonna protect you?”

Justin stood frozen, shock painted across his face.

Tristan stepped closer, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re just another pawn, Justin. And when you’re no longer useful?” He leaned in, his smirk darkening. “You’re dead.”

Justin swallowed hard, the weight of Tristan’s words sinking in, fear creeping up his spine. Tristan pulled back, letting the threat hang in the air. No punch was needed. The fear was more than enough.

Tristan’s lips curled into a tight smile as he released his grip, watching Justin crumple to the ground. Turning, he walked back to Victoria, his hand finding hers as they left without a word.

He led her to the black car parked in front of the gym, but before opening the door, he backed Victoria into it, his body caging her in. His eyes were dark, black holes swallowing every ounce of light.

“Never put yourself in danger because of me. Do you understand?” His voice was low, rough, edged with something lethal.

Victoria met his gaze, unflinching, the fire in her eyes matching his fury. “You don’t get to decide that, Tristan,” she said, her voice steady despite the rapid beat of her heart.

Tristan exhaled sharply, his forehead dropping to hers for the briefest second before he pulled back, his voice lower, rougher. “Damn it, Victoria.”

Victoria drew in a slow breath, steadying herself. “Besides,” she added, a new edge creeping into her tone, “if I wasn’t a target already, I am now. Justin just called me Victoria in the gym…for everyone to hear.”

Tristan stilled. His expression darkened, the weight of her words sinking in.

Everything had just gotten worse.

Victoria slid into the car, watching as Tristan moved around the hood and got in effortlessly. He pressed the start button, the engine purring to life, but the tension between them remained thick.

She turned toward the window, trying to steady her thoughts, to clear the chaos in her head.

“What the fuck was that about?” Her voice was quiet, distant, but edged with curiosity. She didn’t look at him, just kept her gaze fixed outside as he pulled onto the street. “Why were you and Tyson fighting?”

Tristan let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

“Because my dear brother is throwing a tantrum over the fact that I told our father he should’ve fought tonight,” he sneered with mockery, but there was an edge beneath it.

“Tyson wants the business. Desperately. I don’t.

But I’m the oldest by four minutes and, unfortunately for him, that means it’s mine,” he smirked, tapping his fingers against the wheel.

“Really, he should be thanking me for the opportunity to prove himself.”

“What do you mean?”

Tristan glanced over, but in the darkness, she couldn’t make out his face or his eyes. “Tyson is a lot of things. Controlled, emotionless, more than capable of running the business. But he lacks fear. He doesn’t carry the weight of his name like I do.”

His fingers flexed against the wheel. “People fear me. I earned that. Do I want to follow my father? No. But in this world, fear is power. And Tyson doesn’t have it.”

Victoria’s gaze snapped to him. “So telling Cassian that Tyson should’ve fought tonight, what exactly was that supposed to do? I know you don’t want the business, and trust me, if I have any say, you’re not staying in this world.”

Tristan exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the wheel. "You think I don’t know that?" He seethed. "You think I don’t know exactly what my father is capable of? What he’ll do the second he sees an opportunity?"

He shook his head, jaw clenching. "I pushed Tyson forward because it buys me time. If Cassian sees him as an option, as someone who can take my place, then maybe, just maybe, I get a way out before he realizes I’m already gone."

His knuckles went white as he flexed his fingers against the wheel. "But shutting it down?" A humorless laugh escaped him. "You don’t shut down an empire like this, Victoria. You either take it or you die trying."

His gaze flicked toward her, just for a second, before settling back on the road. "And I don’t plan on dying. Not yet."

Victoria scoffed, crossing her arms. "You and I both know you’re not walking away clean. Your father kills for less. And let’s be real, he already knows exactly who I am. He’s got something planned. Probably already set it in motion."

She turned toward him fully now, her voice composed.

"Hell, let’s take it a step further. The second someone at that gym confirms my real identity, and he finds out you’re with me?

That you’re willing to throw all of this away for me?

" She let the weight of her next words settle between them. "We’re both dead."

Tristan’s jaw clenched, his grip tightening until his knuckles blanched. He didn’t argue. Didn’t offer some cocky remark to brush it off.

Because she was right. And they both knew it.