Chapter 60 #3
Bella strolls up to Rez, all hips and hellfire. “No hard feelings, Rezy,” she purrs, tapping him on the cheek. “Looks like my guys are just better than your little Hollow Kings.”
Knox raises an eyebrow. “Alright, Bella, let’s not get ahead of yourself. And fighting for Team Bel—”
She holds up a hand, stepping forward with a wicked glint in her eye. “No, no, Knox. I think I’ll take it from here.”
She turns toward the crowd. “Alright, Northvale,” she says, voice dripping in pure sass. “I know you’ve seen some insane fights tonight. Blood, sweat, and maybe a few concussions.”
A ripple of laughter and shouting rolls through The Pit. She smirks, pacing the ring slow, letting the tension stretch.
“But this one?” she says, stopping dead center, eyes glinting beneath the strobes. “This one’s personal.”
The crowd stills. She raises a hand, palm out like she’s calming an audience she fully intends to destroy. “Fighting tonight for Team Bella…” she pauses, letting the silence crackle, then tips her head toward the entrance.
“The biggest, baddest Italian I’ve ever met. The man who taught New York to bleed power and called it business…”
Her voice drops, deadly intimate. “My father.” Then she explodes, pointing toward the tunnel as the bass hits. “The one. The only. Roman Russo!”
The crowd detonates.
I freeze. “Shit. She brought fucking Russo to this?”
Rez’s head jerks toward her. The crowd is standing. Phones everywhere.
And there he is, tall, tan, sleeves rolled up, eyes like polished obsidian. Roman walks in like he owns the damn world. Kisses Bella on the cheek and gives the crowd a single nod before turning toward Rez.
DING.
Roman strikes first, vicious and clean. A body shot that thunders through The Pit, followed by a backhand elbow that splits Rez’s lip open within the first ten seconds.
Rez doesn’t flinch. He wipes the blood away with the back of his hand and grins like he’s been waiting for this exact brand of punishment. Then he unloads. Fast jabs. Low kicks. Feral speed and no hesitation.
By round two, The Pit’s a madhouse. Donors shouting, bills flying, the air thick with sweat and blood.
Rez is on a tear now. Fast, relentless, and unpredictable.
He feints left, then lands a brutal hook to Roman’s ribs that echoes through The Pit.
Roman grunts, forced back a step. Probably the first time anyone’s ever pushed him like that.
Rez doesn’t let up. He’s all motion and fury, fighting like the world owes him a debt he intends to collect tonight. He drives Roman into the corner, shoulders and fists colliding in a blur of muscle and rage.
Bella’s voice cuts through the noise. “Come on, Roman!” she yells, hands cupped around her mouth, eyes bright. Like this is her moment. Her war. Her family name bleeding across the mat.
Then the final round hits. Roman circles, shoulders rolling, breath steady. Rez wipes the blood from his mouth and spits it onto the mat, grinning like a man who refuses to die quietly.
Roman lands first, a brutal cross that cracks against Rez’s temple. Rez staggers, blinks through the daze, then roars and drives forward anyway, throwing wild, furious punches that barely miss. The crowd’s screaming, half for him, half for the king.
He clips Roman’s jaw hard, but it only wakes the devil. Roman’s eyes go dark. He steps in, slams a knee to Rez’s ribs, followed by an elbow to the face that snaps his head back. Rez tries to swing again, but his footing’s gone.
Roman seizes the opening. One clean, devastating right hook. Years of violence and control exploding in a single strike. The crack echoes through The Pit like a gunshot. Rez drops hard.
The crowd roars. Bella launches into the ring like she’s been waiting her whole life to do it. She throws her arms around Roman, lifts his hand high, like she’s presenting the crowned King of Italy to his adoring court.
Knox laughs through the mic. “Okay it looks like that’s Team Bella, three. Rez, zero. Rez, love ya man… but I hope your cousin can bring it in the main event.”
I stand. Roll my neck and crack my knuckles.
“Oh, I’ll fucking bring it, Bestie.”
The crowd’s still losing it’s mind over Roman’s win when Knox’s voice slices through the chaos, electric and grinning.
“Alright, Pit fans, don’t sit your pretty asses down just yet, because it’s time for the main event!” The lights strobe. The bass drops. “You’ve seen blood, you’ve seen fire, but you haven’t seen him.”
The arena plunges into darkness. Then the lights flare red. The Pit glows like the mouth of hell.
“Fighting tonight for Team Rez. The undefeated, unhinged, undisputed Hollow King himself… Lex Barinov!”
The roar’s deafening. I roll my shoulders and walk into the ring. The red lights washing over everything, hot and heavy, like I’m walking straight into fire. My blood is already simmering.
She walks toward me slow and sweet like nothing about this is war. “Now, baby,” she says, “I know tonight we’re technically on opposite sides, but I just wanted to wish you good luck.” She starts to walk away.
Fuck that. I grip her waist and pull her in, slamming my mouth onto hers in a kiss so deep, so filthy, half the damn crowd forgets to breathe. I don’t care. Let them watch.
“Okay you two,” Knox yells through the mic. “Get a fucking room. Bella… you’re up, babe.”
She pulls back, smug as hell, lips red and swollen, “Good luck, baby.” Then she turns and struts to center of the ring like it’s her fucking throne.
The red lights fade. A single spotlight hits her, golden and bright. The Queen reclaiming her stage. “Alright everyone,” she says, voice smooth as silk, “I saved my absolute best, sexiest, and favorite fighter for last.”
The gold spotlight on her flickers twice, then fades to electric blue—cool, seductive, pulsing to the beat of the bass. The Pit transforms, washed in sapphire light that ripples over the crowd like water.
“Fighting tonight in our main event for Team Bella, all the way from Hong Kong…”
No. Fucking. Way.
“…the leader of the Red Silk Triads…”
Baby. Don’t you dare say it.
“…Laing Wei!”
Tattooed Dragon-Dick comes strutting in like a damn god. Shirtless, of fucking course, inked from neck to hip. That massive dragon gleaming under the blue lights like liquid metal. The whole place goes silent for a second. Then mayhem erupts.
He walks straight to her. Wraps his arms around her waist and grabs her by the fucking ass. She doesn’t push him away. She just places a hand on his chest dragging her finger up and down the dragon and smiles into his eyes.
“Glad you could make it, Laing.”
“Aw, Iz, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He looks over at me and does that stupid chin up thing as if to say, hey dude.
“Dead,” I say. “You’re fucking dead.”
I start forward but Knox stops us. “Ok boys, back up. Save it for the fight.”
Bella walks over, slow and wicked, her eyes on me the entire time. “Fight to remember, baby.” She kisses me on the cheek. And then she’s gone.
Out of the ring.
Leaving me alone.
Staring down the man who used to fuck our girl.
DING.
I don’t wait. No bow. No circling. I’m on him. Fist to jaw. Elbow to ribs. A slam that rattles his spine. Laing takes it, grinning like the sadistic bastard he is. He ducks my next punch and drives his knee into my gut, catching me off guard.
“So, does Iz scream your name and call you her god when your buried balls deep inside her, or is that just saved for me?”
“Motherfucker.” I swing again and miss. He clips my jaw with a hook that snaps my head to the side. Blood hits the mat. Might be mine. Might be his. Doesn’t matter.
We trade blows like it’s a religion. Nothing held back. Forgetting everything around us the crowd, the donors, the fucking cameras. Just him and me and a centuries-old rage in my chest I didn’t even know I had until I saw him touch her.
“You think she chose you?” he spits, ducking under a wild right. “She’ll always come back to me. Ladies love the dragon.” He winks at Bella.
I slam my fist into his ribs—once, twice—until I feel something crack. Laing snarls, headbutts me square in the temple and I stumble back.
“She likes a little danger, Barinov,” he taunts, breathing heavy but still grinning. “That’s why she keeps crawling back to me.”
I lunge again. We’re in a frenzy now. Fists, knees, sweat, and blood. All of it blending like warpaint.
“She doesn’t come back to you, Laing. She comes on me. And that’s the only fucking comeback that matters.”
DING.
We break apart, barely, and I slam back to my corner. Rez comes at me with a towel. I shove it away.
Across the ring, she’s in Mortal Kombat’s corner. Wiping his mouth with a towel. Leaning in. Talking. Her hand on his shoulder like he’s hers to steady.
My girl. MY. FUCKING. GIRL.
“Calm down, dude,” Rez says, low and steady. “This is part of her plan.”
“Plan?” I spit. My jaw is a hinge about to snap.
Rez nods, like he’s explaining a masterpiece. “I told her we needed something that would kill it. Raw. Real. She knew Laing would get under your skin more than anyone and force a good fight out of you.”
He laughs, “She was right. This is the best fight of your life.”
His words are supposed to settle me, but the sight of Laing pulling her onto his lap—her not moving, not pushing him off—slides like ice into my veins. For a second the world narrows to her curve over that fucking dragon and the stupid, smug look on Laing’s face.
I’m out of my chair before I even know I’m moving. “Fuck this.” My voice cuts the noise. “Start round two, Rez.”
DING.
Laing charges and this time, he’s faster. Meaner. Ready. His fist connects with my rib cage. Another to the jaw. He spins, elbows me across the face and I stumble back, vision ringing with heat.
My knee hits the mat hard. Palms down. Blood dripping onto the floor. He laughs.
“Is that all you’ve got, Barinov?” Bella says standing ringside, arms folded across her chest, eyes locked on mine.