Page 16 of Shattered By Grace

"Tristan," she replied, her tone casual yet edged with just enough bite to match his arrogance. "Didn't realize you kept such close tabs on me. Should I be flattered or worried?"

She felt the weight of Tyson's silent stare beside his brother, his dark eyes studying her with that intense, blank expression. She refused to break eye contact with Tristan, determined not to let him see the flicker of nerves beneath her calm facade.

Tristan’s smirk widened. He was enjoying this. “Depends, love,” he drawled, stepping closer, slow and deliberate. “Should I be worried?”

Victoria met his gaze, a sharp, mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, I’m not here to give you something to worry about,” she said smoothly, confidence laced through every word. “I’m here to make sure you’re paying attention. Wouldn’t want you to miss the main event.”

She leaned in just enough, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “And trust me, Tristan, I’m very good at keeping people on their toes.”

His smirk twitched, but he recovered quickly. "Well, well," he mused, his tone thick with amusement. "Looks like we've got a feisty one." He closed the distance between them, his towering presence meant to intimidate.

Arrogant asshole.

From the sidelines, Tyson finally leaned in, silent but watchful. His piercing blue eyes flickered with interest, cutting straight through her as if he could see everything she was trying to hide.

Tristan stepped into the ring with his usual swagger, his intense gaze locking on Victoria. Her heart skipped a beat, the weight of his stare making her pulse quicken. As she prepared for the spar, her stomach twisted with nerves, but a wave of adrenaline surged through her, replacing her anxiety with focus.The twins' eyes were on her, their silent scrutiny like a challenge she couldn’t back down from.

Good job, Victoria.She mentally cursed herself, but the thought quickly faded as she refocused.

Her lips curled into a subtle, determined smile as she squared her shoulders. If she was going to get close to Tristan, and get the information she needed, she would have to keep his attention.

"Grace, you ready for sparring?” Tony asked, tossing aside the sweat-soaked towel from his face. His voice grew serious as he turned to Tristan. “Keep an eye on her, Tristan. She’s got something special,” he said, struggling to put on the gloves.

“Really?” Tristan snatched the gloves from Tony, his gaze locked on Victoria with unnerving intensity. “Let’s see if you can handle what I’ve got, love. I don’t go easy on anyone.”

Fuck.

Victoria rolled her shoulders, forcing herself to focus. She couldn’t let Tristan get under her skin, not when every fiber of her being was already hyper-aware of him. His presence was a gravitational pull, dark and consuming, but she refused to fall.

Tristan slipped on his gloves, his smirk razor-sharp. “Try to keep up, love.”

The moment the bell rang, Victoria lunged first. Fast. Precise. She struck, aiming for his ribs, but Tristan sidestepped at the last second, his reflexes inhumanly sharp. He smirked.

Cocky bastard.

“Not bad,” he taunted, circling her like a predator playing with its meal. “But not good enough.”

A flash of irritation spurred her forward. She feinted left, pivoted, launching a sharp kick toward his side. He caught her ankle mid-air, his grip firm but teasing. He yanked her closer, their bodies nearly flush. Her breath hitched as his heat seeped into her, his smirk deepening.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “You kick like that, and I might start thinking you’re trying to get my attention.”

“Let go,” she gritted out, twisting to break free. He did. Too easily, sending her stumbling back just enough to irritate her pride.

She didn’t hesitate. Launching forward, she threw a punch aimed at his jaw. He ducked, but just barely, his smirk slipping into something more intense. Something dangerous.

“Better,” he admitted. Then he moved. Fast. Before she could react, he had her pinned against the ropes, one forearm bracing her shoulder, his body caging hers in. The air between them grew thick, charged with something far more dangerous than a fight.

Victoria’s pulse pounded in her throat as she stared up at him. He was close. Too close. The heat of his body, the scent of sweat and something distinctly Tristan sent her senses into overdrive. His lips curled, his breath brushing against her skin.

“You hesitate too much,” he murmured. “Gets you in trouble.”

Her fists clenched. “And you talk too much.”

Using his moment of arrogance against him, she twisted sharply, breaking free and shoving him back with enough force to make him stumble. His dark eyes flared with something primal, something both dangerous and electric.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” he growled, lunging for her again.

Their movements turned sharper, rougher. Each strike was a challenge, each block a dare. They weren’t just fighting, they were pushing, testing, teasing. The line between combat and something far more intimate blurred with every second.

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