Chapter 39. Near-Win

The gym smelled like dust and rain.

A smaller crowd this time—locals, gamblers, a few journalists who’d grown tired of writing about her fall. The lights were low enough that she couldn’t see their faces clearly. That helped.

Lia stretched her hands out in front of her, flexing the knuckles until the ache found its place. The bruise on her jaw had already started to yellow, fading from pain to memory.

She wasn’t supposed to be here. Officially, she wasn’t cleared to fight yet—too many consecutive losses, too many failed medicals. But this wasn’t a sanctioned event. It was an open circuit, a place for people who didn’t care about rules, only results.

The ring was smaller than regulation, ropes frayed, duct tape over one corner. The crowd pressed in tight, their cheers more like growls.

Her opponent was young—barely twenty, tall, lean, all fast-twitch muscle. When Lia looked at her, she saw her own reflection from five years ago: sharp, hungry, fearless i