Page 17 of Shattered By Grace

Victoria ducked under his arm, swinging low, but Tristan anticipated it, catching her wrist and twisting it behind her back.His chest pressed against her spine, his breath hot against her ear.

“You’re good,” he admitted, his voice a husky rasp. “But you’re holding back.”

She swallowed hard, her skin burning where he touched her. “And you’re an arrogant ass.”

Tristan chuckled, his grip tightening just enough to make her squirm. “Maybe,” he said. “But you like it.”

Fuck you.

She slammed her head back, nailing his lip with a satisfying crack before driving her elbow viciously into his ribs. A grunt escaped him as his grip loosened, and she wrenched free, spinning to face him. Her chest heaved, adrenaline and defiance burning in her veins as she met his gaze, dark, wild, and full of something that sent a shiver down her spine.

For a beat, they just stared at each other, breathless, the space between them crackling with tension. Then, slowly, Tristan smirked, licking the blood from his lower lip where her head had cracked it open.

“Now that,” he said, voice thick with something almost sinful, “was fucking hot.”

Then he lunged.

In a blur, he tackled her, their bodies crashing onto the mat with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs. The world tilted as he pinned her beneath him, his weight pressing her down, his hands locking hers above her head.

Victoria thrashed beneath him, but he was relentless, his grip bruising, his body heat suffocating. Summoning every ounce of strength, she bucked her hips, twisting sharply, and managed to flip him onto his back. For a fleeting second, she straddled him, her breath ragged, her thighs bracketing his hips.

Tristan’s smirk deepened, his dark eyes burning into hers. "Didn't take you for the type to get on top so easily," he drawled, voice thick with amusement.

Her pulse jumped, but she refused to let him get the upper hand. She moved to shift, but he was faster, surging up and flipping her back beneath him with brutal force.

“You fight like you mean it,” he murmured. “But deep down, I think you like losing to me.”

Her pulse roared in her ears, a mix of fury and something far more dangerous tightening in her chest. “Get off me.”

“Make me,” he challenged, his grip tightening slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with a hunger that sent a jolt of heat through her.

“Enough!” Tony’s voice cut through the haze, but neither of them moved, their focus locked solely on each other.

Tristan’s lips parted as if he had something else to say, something more devastating, when suddenly, he was wrenched off her.

Tyson.

His brother pulled him back with a forceful grip, eyes unreadable. Victoria sucked in a breath, her body still thrumming from the intensity of their fight.

Tyson let out a slow, knowing smirk as he shaked his head. "Damn, Grace. Nice job."

Victoria exhaled sharply, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face before flipping her hair over her shoulder with a smirk. "Thanks."

Her gaze shifted to Tristan, eyes glinting with intensity. "Hope you like the taste of blood, because I’m not done making you swallow it."

Tristan leaned on the ropes, swiping his thumb across his busted lip. His tongue flicked out, tasting blood as his gaze locked on Victoria, amusement and disbelief in his eyes. Asmirk, dark and dangerous. He blew her a slow, deliberate kiss. Her pulse skipped.

Tristan was climbing out, sweat dripping down his sharp jawline, when his phone buzzed.

One glance at the screen and his entire body stiffened. His jaw tightened. His cocky smirk vanished

He stepped away from the ring, pressing the phone to his ear. “Yeah?” His voice was sharper now, the teasing edge completely erased.

From across the room, Victoria saw Tyson watching not with amusement, but with caution.

“Understood,” Tristan muttered before shoving the phone into his pocket.

When he turned back, his entire demeanor had changed.

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