Page 122 of Undisputed Player
Adrian had transformed from menacing sentinel to frantic host, directing staff who wheeled in cart after cart of food, tasting random portions as if determining whether it was safe.
A charcuterie board stretched nearly the length of the room, piled with meats, cheeses, and fruits I couldn't name.
Towers of pastries and desserts stood like edible skyscrapers beside buckets of ice housing bottles of champagne. The display was overwhelming for someone who'd spent the last year stretching every grocery dollar.
“Eat,” Connor instructed from across the room, his voice leaving no room for argument. He sat with Sierra still in his lap, her head tucked under his chin as he glanced back at Adrian.
“You too, Star,” Adrian called, using the nickname I still wasn't used to. He was arranging what looked like an elaborate cat habitat in the corner: a portable litter box, a plush bed, and cute toys.
“Jax will kill us if you faint from hunger during his big moment.”
Adrian appeared at my side with a plate in each hand, loaded with thick sandwiches cut into neat triangles. "Real food first," he announced, his green eyes softer than I'd ever seen them. "Not the rich people shit. You need protein after shock."
He handed one plate to me, then crossed to Connor and Sierra. "Bee, you too. Meat and cheese, none of that weird sauce you hate."
Sierra looked up from Connor's chest, managing a small smile. "You remembered."
"I remember everything," Adrian smiled, his voice carrying an odd note of pride. "It's my superpower. That and looking hotter than Jax while doing it."
Despite everything, I found myself smiling as I took a bite of the sandwich. It was perfect—loaded with cheese, actual deli meat instead of processed canned food, fresh bread that didn't taste like cardboard. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until food touched my tongue.
"Good," Adrian murmured, and there was so much care in his voice.
"Now you." He nudged Sierra's plate toward her. "Connor, make sure she eats. You know she gets shaky.”
Connor's arms tightened around Sierra, his dark eyes flicking to Adrian with what might have been gratitude. "Always do."
As I ate, I watched Adrian work. He wasn't just playing host—he was orchestrating care. He appeared with glasses of apple juice after announcing they were indeed not spiked, and dimmed the lights slightly when he saw me squint at the brightness.
"How do you do that?" I asked when he settled beside me, his own sandwich forgotten as he focused on making sure I was eating.
"Do what?" But his eyes were already scanning me, cataloguing every micro-expression.
"Take care of people. See everything."
Something flickered across his face—vulnerability, maybe, or old pain. “I learned young. I got good at reading people.”
As we ate, Toffee emerged from his carrier, stretching luxuriously before sniffing at his new accommodations. Adrian beamed like a proud parent, watching the cat munch on meat he’d placed near the carrier. “See? He approves.”
The lights in the arena suddenly dimmed, and the crowd roared in anticipation. Connor shifted Sierra in his lap so she could see better, his arms never leaving her waist.
“It's starting,” he explained, his expression intensifying as he focused on the ring below.
Adrian settled on the other side of me, handing me a plate of sugary pastries and tarts with a look, telling me I definitely wasn’t allowed to refuse.
A spotlight cut through the darkness, illuminating the tunnel from which the fighters would enter. The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, introducing the challenger first—a hulking figure in black and red, his entourage trailing behind him like a pack of wolves.
“Rodriguez,” Connor commented, his fingers absently stroking Sierra's hair. “Strong right, weak defense on his left side. Jax will exploit that.”
“If he doesn't kill him first,” Adrian muttered. He'd somehow produced that knife again, flipping it between his fingers with practiced ease. “Look at his face.”
The announcer's voice rose to a fever pitch as he introduced Jax. The crowd erupted, the noise vibrating through the thick glass. The spotlight swung to the opposite tunnel, and I gasped.
Jax emerged like something from another world.
He was golden, powerful, and dangerous. He wore a cream silk robe embroidered with golden thread, the fabric rippling as he walked with measured strides. His hair was styled to perfection, his expression a mask of cocky indifference as he acknowledged the crowd with raised fists.
But his eyes... his eyes were winter blue and burning with something that made my skin prickle.
