Page 148 of Shattered By Grace

Justin? Still dead silent.

Lena rolled her shoulders, casual and unbothered, like she had all the time in the world. Then, with a lazy, taunting motion, she ran her fingers along the ruby necklace at her throat.

“Didn’t expect to see you again?” she mused, tilting her head. Her tone was light. Ttoo light.

The moment Victoria’s gaze landed on it, her breath stilled. Her necklace. Stolen. Planted. A setup. And Lena knew it.

Her smirk widened. “Oh, this caught your eye?” she teased, voice dripping with amusement. “You really should be more careful where you leave your possessions.”

“This bitch wants to die today.”

Chapter Sixty-Six

Cassian’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 hairbehind 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.

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