The underground fight smelled of rust, sweat, and danger. The air was heavy, hot, the kind that clung to your skin and made every breath taste like smoke. Bodies pressed tight around the cage, men shouting, women screaming, fists pumping the air.
I shouldn’t have been there. Girls like me didn’t belong in places like this. My friends would’ve laughed if they knew—I was the kind of person who crossed the street when a group of rowdy guys came my way, the kind who pretended not to hear catcalls, the kind who lived in a quiet, predictable bubble.
But tonight, I’d broken that bubble.
Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe boredom. Maybe something darker.
Either way, I stood there gripping the railing, staring at the man inside the cage.
He wasn’t like the others.
His opponent was big, broad, mean
