Chapter 39 Victor
VICTOR
In the days after throwing Dawson out of my gym, I wake each morning expecting chaos. My phone screen remains stubbornly quiet—no calls from sponsors pulling out, no texts from fighters jumping ship. The silence is almost worse than any fallout.
“Nothing yet?” Theo asks on our third morning after, his head resting on my chest.
“Not a fucking thing.”
I check my phone again before heading to the gym. The tension sits in my shoulders, making every movement stiff. Dawson’s the type to strike when it hurts most. His silence feels calculated, like the calm before a storm.
But as the week drags on, nothing changes. I run the gym like always. I train fighters, schedule bouts, and handle paperwork. The mundane predictability of it all almost makes me forget what’s hanging over my head.
Almost.
Marco corners me after training on Friday. “Boss, you gotta relax. You’re making everyone nervous.”
“Dawson’s planning something. I know it.”
Marco shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe he knows he’s outmatched.”
During evening training, I watch my core team working with the fighters. They move through the gym with easy confidence—Jonah coaching a young prospect, Micah demonstrating takedown defense, Remy and Cruz working the heavy bags.
Something’s different now. They look at me differently, talk to me differently. The wall I’d built between us—the one I thought protected my authority—it’s crumbling. And instead of feeling exposed, I feel... lighter.
Jonah catches me watching and nods, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. There’s respect there, deeper than before.
After everyone clears out, my core team stays behind.
“Since we’re all hanging around anyway, might as well make it official,” I say, grabbing my phone. “Team meeting. Anyone hungry?”
“Is that even a question?” Cruz laughs, dropping onto one of the benches. “I’ve been running on protein shakes all day.”
“Pizza,” Jonah suggests, already pulling up the delivery app. “The usual place?”
Marco nods. “Double order from last time. These animals eat like they’re still cutting weight.”
I watch them fall into their rhythm—Micah arguing with Remy about pineapple being an abomination, Cruz demanding extra meat on everything, Jonah mediating the whole thing with practiced efficiency. It strikes me how nothing’s really changed, except everything has.
“Hey boss,” Micah looks up from the phone debate, “Theo coming?”
The question hangs there for a beat. Six months ago, it would have sent me into a tailspin of panic. Now I just feel a strange flutter in my chest.
“Yeah,” I say, the word coming easier than expected. “Told him to swing by after his meeting.”
Cruz’s grin spreads wide. “Good. Dude needs to try my pizza combination.”
“Your combination is a heart attack waiting to happen,” Remy scoffs.
“So is my right hook, but you don’t see anyone complaining.”
The door chimes twenty minutes later. Theo walks in wearing one of his designer jackets over a simple black t-shirt, looking like he stepped off a magazine cover. My stomach does that thing it always does when I see him.
He crosses directly to where I’m leaning against the wall and kisses me without hesitation. Not a quick peck, but nothing indecent either. Just enough to make it clear we’re together.
Micah and Cruz exchange glances before Cruz whistles low.
“Damn, you two together is a whole vibe,” Cruz says, taking a long pull from his beer. “Gotta admit, I wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall when you fuck. Must be hot as hell.”
The room falls silent for a split second.
I feel heat rising to my face, my body tensing.
But before I can respond, Theo looks up at me with that expression I know too well—eyes slightly hooded, one corner of his mouth curled up in that devilish smirk.
I immediately recognize what’s going through his head.
The exhibitionist in him is practically vibrating at the idea of giving them a show.
I swallow hard and say nothing, reaching for my beer instead.
“Leave ‘em alone, Cruz,” Marco says, tossing a balled-up napkin at him. “Not everyone’s as open about their sex life as you.”
Cruz laughs, unbothered. “What? It was a compliment!”
“Ignore him,” Jonah tells Theo, passing him a plate. “He’s got no filter even before the beer. Gets worse after.”
Theo just grins, settling beside me on the bench. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
The conversation shifts as the pizza arrives—five large boxes stacked on the table. Everyone dives in, grabbing slices and continuing their earlier debates. The beer flows freely, and I feel the tension in my shoulders loosening with each bottle.
“So Theo,” Micah asks between bites, “you ever seen Victor fight? Like, back when he competed?”
Theo shakes his head. “Only videos. Wish I’d been there live.”
“Man, you missed out,” Remy says. “Boss was a fucking animal in the cage.”
“Still is,” Cruz adds with a wink. “Just in different arenas now, I bet.”
The guys dissolve into laughter as Theo raises his beer in acknowledgment, leaning into my side.
A few more beers in, Cruz’s booming laugh gets louder with each empty bottle. He’s sprawled on the bench now, taking up twice the space of anyone else, gesturing wildly as he tells a story about a bouncer who tried to throw him out of a club last weekend.
“Man thought he was tough until I stood up,” Cruz says, flexing his bicep for emphasis. His eyes drift over to Micah, who’s finishing his third beer. “Hey, Rivera,” he calls across the table, his voice dropping an octave, “you got plans after this? Been a while since we hung out after hours.”
The suggestion in his tone isn’t subtle. Cruz’s eyes travel down Micah’s body with clear intent.
Micah smirks, catching the look. “Depends what you had in mind, big man.”
“I’ve got ideas,” Cruz says, licking his lips. “Plenty of ‘em.”
Theo shifts beside me, leaning forward with that dangerous glint in his eyes that usually means trouble. “Why wait?” he suggests, casual as discussing the weather. “We’ve got the whole gym to ourselves, don’t we, Victor?”
I nearly choke on my beer.
Even Jonah, who I’ve never seen express interest in anything happening at the gym beyond training, sits up straighter, his usual calculated expression giving way to something more alert, more engaged.
Cruz’s eyes widen, looking between Theo and me. “Seriously? Your boy’s full of surprises, boss.” He grins, shifting to face us more directly. “I’m down if everyone else is.”
I feel Theo’s hand slide onto my thigh, a silent question. My pulse quickens as five pairs of eyes turn toward me, waiting for my response.
My heart hammers against my ribcage so hard I half expect it to crack bone.
Theo’s hand on my thigh feels like it’s burning through my jeans, and the look in his eyes—that mix of challenge and desire—sends blood rushing to places that are becoming increasingly difficult to hide.
The idea of letting them watch, of showing my team what Theo and I do together.
.. fuck, it’s turning me on more than it should. And that terrifies me.
Cruz’s gaze drifts between Theo and me, his pupils dilated. “C’mon, boss. Let’s see what you got.”
Micah nods, leaning forward. “You’ve been hiding this part of yourself for months. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding altogether.”
“Not gonna lie,” Remy adds, his voice lower than usual, “been wondering what you two look like together since you introduced him.”
Jonah doesn’t speak, but the intensity in his eyes says everything his mouth doesn’t.
I clear my throat, searching for words that won’t come. My cock strains against my zipper, betraying me.
The last thread of my resistance snaps, and I feel my control slipping as Theo’s hand slides higher up my thigh, his fingers tracing the outline of my hardening cock.
“What do you say?” Theo whispers against my ear, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Should we give them what they want?”
I look at Theo, then at my team, then back at Theo. The old reflex fires—the urge to deflect, to protect the image. And then, quietly, it doesn’t.
“Fuck it,” I growl, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss.
The room goes silent for a heartbeat before Cruz lets out a low whistle. I break the kiss and stand, pulling Theo up with me. Without hesitation, I drag him toward the ring.
“Everyone who wants to watch, stay,” I command, my voice rougher than usual. “Anyone not interested, now’s the time to leave.”
Marco’s already on his feet, pulling his jacket from the bench.
“I’m out, hermano. You boys have your fun.
” He claps a hand on my shoulder as he passes—the same hand he’s clapped on the same shoulder a thousand times—and adds, in Spanish, something I don’t catch.
Ray follows him, raising his beer in a goodnight salute. The door swings shut behind them.
I turn to Theo. “You sure?” I ask.
Theo’s eyes gleam with that dangerous light I know too well. “Show them who I belong to, Daddy.”
The four who stayed gather around the ring as I lift Theo onto the edge of the mat. Something primal ignites in me at that word. I rip his designer shirt open with enough force that buttons scatter across the canvas.
Behind me, I hear Micah’s sharp intake of breath. “Holy shit.”
I tear at Theo’s pants next, exposing him completely. He’s already hard, cock straining against his stomach as I flip him over roughly.
“That’s right, baby,” I growl loud enough for everyone to hear. “Show them what happens when you tease Daddy.”
Cruz grunts something unintelligible, and when I glance over, I see his hand pressing against the front of his jeans. Jonah stands beside him, eyes wide and lips parted.
I push Theo’s face down against the mat, one hand on the back of his neck while I work myself free with the other.
“Fuck, that’s so damn hot,” Remy mutters, his voice strained. “Knew they’d have that dynamic.”
Micah nods beside him. “The way Theo just... submits to him. Jesus.”
I spit into my palm, slicking myself before positioning at Theo’s entrance. Theo pushes back against me, desperate and needy.
“Please,” he whimpers loud enough for everyone to hear. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”
I push into Theo in one smooth thrust, and he cries out, loud enough for everyone to hear. The way he takes me makes me groan.
“That’s right,” I growl, gripping his hips hard enough to leave marks. “Show them how good you are for me.”
I glance up to find my fighters watching with undisguised hunger. Cruz has already unbuckled his belt, hand wrapped around his cock. Beside him, Micah moves closer, dropping to his knees.
“Fuck, let me,” Micah murmurs, replacing Cruz’s hand with his mouth.
Cruz tangles his fingers in Micah’s hair, guiding him down with a throaty groan. “Always knew that pretty mouth would be good for more than talking shit.”
Jonah and Remy exchange a heated look before Remy grabs Jonah by the back of the neck, pulling him into a rough kiss. Their hands fumble with each other’s pants, bodies pressing together against the edge of the ring.
I thrust harder into Theo, driven by the sight of my fighters losing control around us. “Look at what you started, wildfire,” I growl in his ear. “Got everyone so fucking turned on they can’t help themselves.”
I turn my attention back to Theo, slamming into him with renewed intensity.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Everyone’s watching you take my cock.”
I increase my pace, watching Theo’s body respond to every thrust. The sounds filling the gym—Cruz’s grunts as Micah works him with his mouth, Jonah and Remy’s bodies slapping together against the ring—only drive me harder.
The knowledge that my team is seeing this side of me I felt ashamed of for months sends a rush of adrenaline through my system.
“Look at them,” I growl into Theo’s ear, pulling his head up by his hair so he can see everyone around us. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Everyone watching me fuck you?”
Theo moans, pushing back against me. “Yes, Daddy. Show them who I belong to.”
I grip his hips harder, changing the angle until I find that spot that makes him cry out. His back arches beautifully, head thrown back as I hit his prostate with each thrust.
“You close, wildfire?” I demand, feeling my own orgasm building at the base of my spine.
“Yes—please—” Theo gasps, his voice breaking. “Please let me come.”
I reach around to grip his cock, stroking in time with my thrusts. “Not until I say.”
The muscles in his back tense beneath me. I can feel him fighting for control, trying to hold back until I give permission. I slow my pace deliberately, drawing out the torture.
“Beg for it,” I command. “Let them hear how much you want it.”
Theo turns his head, and our eyes lock. Something in his gaze shifts—a challenge, a spark of defiance beneath the submission.
For a moment, I see a glimpse of the Theo who commands rooms at Eclipse, the one who bends others to his will.
Even in this position, spread beneath me for everyone to see, there’s power in the way he looks at me.