Page 3 of Ky

Wrapping my arms around myself, trying to keep the chill out, lost in the memory of the hot and heavy encounter, and the stranger's touch from the bar six weeks ago. The memory so strong, I could still feel his touch. I had been a different Seraphina back then, not the scared little mouse I usually amwhen Angelo was around. He had gone on a business trip for a few days, taking Amelia with him, and thankfully, leaving me alone. I shiver, rubbing my arms to keep me warm, even though I was wearing an ankle-length coat.

I let my mind think back to that time, all those weeks ago, as on a whim; I had decided I was going to go out, and hopefully either get myself rip-roaring drunk, and forget all about my problems, or I was going to end up having a one-night stand with a nameless and faceless man.

I ended up getting drunk and a one-night stand. Yes, he was nameless, but he certainly wasn’t faceless. I didn’t end up being so drunk that I didn’t know what was happening, that I was being hit on by the most beautiful man I had ever seen in my entire life. But that I actually had taken him back to my place instead of some hotel room was a testament to the fact that I wasn’t in my right mind that night.

I chose not to think about the fact that he was gone the next morning, reassuring myself that it was for the best. I would hate to think of what Angelo would do to him if he ever found out. Taking a deep breath, I shove all thoughts of the stranger to the back of my mind. I need to stay focused if I’m ever going to escape Angelo’s grip.

I still couldn’t believe my father had handed me over to my stepbrother like some kind of prize for taking over the family—on his deathbed, no less—and even had it written into his will.

The thought of being Angelo’s possession made me ill.

I was so deep in my own head I didn’t realize Angelo and Amelia were now sitting down in the front row, right by the boxing ring. I look down, and try not to show my disappointment, when Angelo demands I sit next to him, relegating Amelia to the next seat over.

Feeling sick to my stomach, I hadn’t missed the way Amelia narrows her eyes at me angrily.Surely, she doesn’t think Iorchestrated the seating arrangement?I cross one leg over the other, freezing when Angelo’s hand comes to rest on my thigh, it was all I could do not to throw his hand off me. At that moment, I was glad I had worn jeans, pairing them with a casual silk purple colored blouse with cold shoulder cutouts. A few silver bangles and light makeup completed the look.

Once I was seated, I was surprised that my nausea didn’t abate—in fact, the room just continued to spin, and I lowered my head into my hands, closing my eyes, hoping I don’t bring up my dinner right here in front of everybody.

“Are you feeling okay?” Angelo demands, leaning forward and talking into my ear so that I can hear him over the noise, his breath fanning the shell of my ear, making me shudder in revulsion.

I wasn’t a fan of any form of fighting—boxing or otherwise. But being forced to come, I had to adapt, and not throw a tantrum like I had wanted to before we left. Because if I had gone against Angelo’s wishes, I’d be in a world of hurt right now. I nod silently, forcing a smile, not trusting myself to speak.

“Are you sure, because you look like you’re about to hurl.” He pushes. “I wouldn’t want you to embarrass me in front of everybody by throwing up all over me and yourself.” His concern was touching. Not.

“I’m fine,” I reply tightly, becoming annoyed. He lifts his hands up in a placating motion, his blue eyes flashing with anger. I take a sip of water from the bottle I was carrying, thankful the nausea abates a little. At least enough that I don’t think I was going to vomit.

“Alright then. You’re fine,” he replies mockingly, and I shake my head in frustration. At that moment, the lights dim, strobe lights lighting up the boxing ring as Angelo’s fighter and his opponent walk out.

When I lock eyes with The Killer’s opponent, my heart stops and drops to the floor. I can’t believe my luck that after not seeing the stranger I slept with for six weeks, he could be right here in front of me, staring back at me.

The room was shrouded in darkness, but I could still feel the weight of his eyes fixed upon me. Those beautiful dark brown eyes that could see deep into my soul. His eyes sweep over the scene, noting how close Angelo is sitting next to me and the way his hand rests on my leg. His narrow eyes dart around the packed warehouse, his tattoo-covered hands clenched tightly, as if he's struggling to maintain composure.

For the first time, I pray that my handsome stranger beats the shit out of Angelo’s fighter. I stop my thoughts. No, he’s not mine, and I’d do well to remember that. Angelo can never know what we did. If he knew, the stranger and I would be in deep shit.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the MC begins his spiel, and I fidget in my seat. “Welcome to tonight’s fight, which is sponsored by Bianchi Industries. Tonight, we have some special guests with us, the CEO of Bianchi Industries, Angelo, and Seraphina Bianchi. Please give them a round of applause.”

The room erupts with whoops and cheers, and all I want to do is to disappear through the floor. But I fight to remain calm, trying to show no emotion, but noticing the clear disgust on my stranger's handsome face. I rear back as though I’d been hit, and a gasp of shock escapes my lips.

“In the blue corner we have Travis ‘The Killer’ Kearns…” He goes on to sing the fighter’s praises, but I tune him out until he gets to the other man.

“In the red corner we have simply Ky.” Arching an eyebrow, the MC waits for the laughter and boos to die down in the warehouse, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Now that I know my stranger’s name, I can’t help but think how well it suits him.

The nerves tighten in my belly as the anticipation of the fight from the patrons crowding around the boxing ring almost suffocates me—the two men in the ring squaring off with each other.

I despise Angelo for forcing me to come here.

The sickening thud of The Killer's fist against Ky's jaw made me want to tear my eyes away, but I was glued to the horrifying spectacle, my gasp echoing in the still noisy room. He quickly rights himself and returns a hit with his leg to The Killer’s knee. My eyes are transfixed on the fight in front of me, and I don’t notice Angelo leaning in until he whispers in my ear.

“Did you honestly believe I wouldn’t know you brought that pond scum into my home?” he growls, and I freeze.

The reason I was here becoming clearer by the second.

I was frozen in place, my muscles stiff, my mind racing but unable to speak. I desperately scan my surroundings, searching for an escape route, only to find myself trapped with nowhere to go. I had no choice but to sit there, bracing myself for what was about to come. Frustrated by my foolishness and desire to break free from his control, I curse myself.

I look up to the boxing ring, my hands wrapped tightly around the armrests as The Killer seems to have gotten the upper hand over Ky. I squeeze my eyes shut as another wave of nausea hits, my stomach deciding for me. I bolt out of my seat and rush to the nearest bathroom, ignoring Angelo’s calls behind me.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to go too far, pushing my way into the empty bathroom, turning my nose up at the rank smell.

What did you expect, Sera? You’re in an abandoned warehouse.

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