Page 77 of Shattered by Grace (The Locke Empire Duet #1)

Chapter Sixty-Six

C assian’s laugh wasn’t just a sound, it was a weapon. It seeped into the air, stretching the silence before snapping back like a whip.

“Wait, you two have met?” He laughed harder as Lena stepped onto the mat, slipping off her heels, necklace, and the leather sheath strapped to her thigh.

“This night’s getting better by the second,” he mused, turning his attention to Taylor. “What’s your name again?”

For the first time, Justin spoke. “Taylor.”

Cassian snapped his fingers. “Ah, that’s right. Taylor.” He moved in close, his fingers skimming her cheek. Taylor jerked her face away.

“Go fuck yourself,” she spat.

“Look, I’m not saying it again. Keep your hands off her.” Victoria’s voice cut through the room, steady and sharp.

Cassian chuckled again, shaking his head. “And what are you gonna do about it, little girl?”

Victoria didn’t so much as blink. “You’ve come for me before, and every time, I’ve outplayed you.

Hell, track down Razer. Ask him how he got that limp.

” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, tilting her head just slightly, like she was sizing them up.

Unbothered. Unimpressed. “So go on, take your shot.”

Cassian didn’t respond, but his smirk said enough.

Tristan grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not forceful. “What the hell is going on, Victoria?” His voice was low, but the anger was there, simmering just beneath the surface.

She pulled free, unshaken. “Short version? I’m saving Taylor. Justin’s a snake. Adams betrayed me but is now trying to do what’s right. But ultimately, I am taking back my name.”

Tristan didn’t look away, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he extended a hand.

Victoria took it, slipping out of her heels with ease.

“She’s fast, and her reach is lethal. Don’t let her get too close, or you’ll be on the ground before you know it.”

Victoria started to ask how he knew so much about Lena's fighting style, but the realization hit like a fist to the gut, stealing her words.

The restaurant. That night. The way Lena had looked at her.

It wasn’t just familiarity. It was history.

Tristan wasn’t just connected to Lena. He was the wedge driven between them.

He stands on the bloodstained mat, chest rising and falling, knuckles slick with someone else’s life. His father watches, waiting for him to fall in line, to be the son he was raised to be. But Tristan doesn’t look at him. He only looks at her.

“Stand with me, and your father doesn’t walk away free tonight.”

The referee's voice drones in the background, going over the slim list of rules like they even matter. "No weapons. Just fists and feet. Kill or be killed."

The crowd barely listens. They don’t need the rules. They came here for carnage.

Cassian stands at the edge of it all. The king of this empire, watching, waiting for his son to fall back in line. His presence alone is a command, a chain tightening around Tristan’s throat.

“Enough games,” Cassian’s voice slides out, smooth and cold, a threat. “Tristan, I’m growing impatient. I’ve killed for less.”

Tristan should obey. He always has before.

But this time…this time, it was only her.

“If I haven't made it clear to you where I stand,” Tristan says, his voice hoarse, raw. He takes a step toward her. “It’s here.” Another step. “With you.”

Cassian doesn’t react. Not at first. Then a flicker of disbelief.

“Tristan,” Cassian demanded

A low murmur spreads through the crowd, rippling outward like a shockwave.

Tristan’s voice cuts through the noise, drowning out the ref’s final words.

“I choose you. Over blood, over loyalty, over everything I was raised to be.” His jaw tightens.

He lifts a hand, fingers brushing her cheek before settling at the nape of her neck.

His grip is steady. Certain. “Especially over him.”

The crowd gasps.

Cassian’s smirk vanishes.

“Because there is no world, no fucking reality, where I exist without you.”

The crowd goes still, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a live wire.

Cassian watches from his platform, seemingly composed, but his empire feels like it’s on the brink.

Tristan doesn’t care.

“I’ll fight for you,” he vows, his voice hoarse.

“I’ll burn this fucking world down if it means keeping you safe.

” He steps closer, close enough that she can feel the heat of him, the intensity in his eyes.

“I don’t care who stands in my way. I don’t care who I have to bury.

” His fingers brush hers, lightning between them.

“I am yours, Victoria," he breathes, his gaze searing her skin. "Heart, body, and soul... if you want, I’ll even tattoo it over my heart permanently, just like what I’m giving you.”

A single breath. A single moment.

“I love you.”

Not a plea. Not a promise. A declaration. A death sentence. A battle cry.

The arena is drowned in a heavy silence.

Cassian's expression darkened. For a long moment, he said nothing, his eyes narrowing as he weighed Tristan's words. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken promises and threats. Then, with the slightest tilt of his head, he whispered, “You’ve made your choice.”

The ref yells over the chaos, pulling them back into the present. “Fighter over here, are you ready?”

The words cut through the air, and Victoria, shaken, pulls her eyes from Tristan.

“Sir, I need you to clear the mat.”

“Go, Tristan. I’ll be fine,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper but carrying the weight of everything between them.

“I love you, too.”