Chapter 18. Collapse

The gym smelled like winter—cold metal, old sweat, and disinfectant. Outside, sleet smeared itself across the windows, white noise in liquid form.

Cassian had invited a handful of people to watch the exhibition spar: two scouts from a mid-tier league, one promoter, and a silent man in a dark coat who never gave his name. Enough to matter. Not enough to vanish in.

But Lia saw him. He didn’t sit like a scout. Didn’t lean like a promoter. Didn’t blink when she looked at him. She’d never met Dominic Vale in person. But power left residue. And this man smelled like threat.

She wrapped her hands slower than usual, pulling the tape too tight, unrolling it again. Her fingers trembled—not just from cold. She felt it just beneath the surface—a pressure in her right wrist. Like the wrap had been… uneven? Not torn. But off. She paused. Looked at the roll. The seam was rougher than she remembered. One part thinner. Compressed. Compromised.

“Too tight?” a nearby fighter as