Page 33 of Vicious Behaviors

“How so?” I ask, watching Marcello slip out of the ring with catlike grace.

“My brother doesn’t like you much.”

“Yes, he’s made that quite clear,” I mutter, unable to stop tracking his every move, hating how close he chose to stand and watch us train.

“You don’t seem to mind, though.”

“Why would I?” I turn to her fully. “I’ve met my fair share of men who don’t like strong women. He’s not the first. Nor will he be the last, unfortunately.”

“I hear that,” she says, and for a second, there’s a camaraderie of understanding between us. A shared ground we both have experienced. But then she continues, her tone lighter. “But you’re wrong. That’s not why he doesn’t like you.”

“Oh?” I grab my gauze from the corner, matching her movements as we begin wrapping our fists.

“He doesn’t trust you.”

I laugh softly. “Is that all? Something tells me your brother doesn’t trust anyone easily.”

“True,” she admits. “But here’s the thing you should know. My brother’s instincts are rarely wrong.”

I finish wrapping and look her square in the eye.

“Your brother doesn’t know me well enough not to trust me. Now, do you need to warm up or not? All this talk about your brother is starting to bore me.”

“Not.” She grins. “And I agree. Talking is overrated. Why talk when you can learn so much more about a person inside a ring?”

“Any rules before we start?”

“Nah. I’m good,” she says, her green eyes gleaming with unbridled eagerness. “Unlessyouneed any?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I smirk, throwing her words back at her. “First one to hit the mat loses.”

“Then ding, ding, ding,” she says, miming the bell.

And just like that, we begin to circle. For a few seconds, the gym is as quiet as I’ve ever heard it. Just the creak of the mat and the air between us, charged with electric energy.

Stella makes the first move. Just a quick jab, testing me. I dodge and return one of my own, which she easily blocks. We smile at each other as if we had a secret that neither wants to share. These were just love taps. We’re holding back, just long enough to study each other. But when our footwork starts to sync, like a dance, adrenaline spikes up my bloodstream, ready to take this fight on.

After that, everything happens so fast that if I were to blink, I’d risk getting punched in the face. While my moves are fast, calculated, and technical, Stella’s method leans toward the unexpected and unpredictable. When I’m sure she’s going left, she goes right. When her movements indicate she’s going for a kick, she lands a punch instead. It’s hard to keep up with the madness. Even when I’m positive that her madness took years of painstaking learning and skill.

Stella surprises me yet again, this time with a front kick aimed at my ribs. I absorb the impact, wince, and lunge forward with a series of sharp punches. She ducks, glancing one punch off her shoulder, while the other meets my target. She retaliateswith a spinning backfist that nearly clips my temple. I dodge it in time, sweep low, trying to take out her leg, but she hops over it, nimble and focused.

Stella lands a slap across my cheek that stings with intent. And I answer it with a solid hook to her shoulder. And even though I’m sure my mark will leave a bruise, her grin only widens.

Hair gets pulled as gauze-wrapped fists fly, and the two of us become a blur of movement, nothing but kicks, knees, fists, and elbows. And just as I think I might have a winning chance in this fight, her knuckle connects with the corner of my mouth, and I taste the copper tang of blood instantly. I stagger back, my fingers brushing my lip, as I watch droplets of my blood fall to the mat.

“I can’t remember the last time someone made me bleed,” I say in astonishment, more impressed than angry.

“Don’t worry.” She smirks. “There’s more where that came from.”

There’s a fire in Stella, I’ll give her that. She isn’t just tough, she’s hungry. She’s definitely a more formidable opponent than most pros I’ve ever worked with. She doesn’t need to be trained by me. She’s lethal enough as it is.

I don’t have time to dwell on that thought, because in one sudden move, Stella steps in and sweeps my leg out from under me. I hit the mat hard, and before I can react, she straddles me, pinning me down with her knees locked on either side.

“I win,” she says, voice smooth as silk.

I blink up at her, breath caught somewhere between a laugh and a curse.

“Damn. You got me good.”