Chapter 34
Present
My penthouse was a sanctuary. From the moment I saw it, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and a to-die-for view of Empire State Building, and the front door marked with the angel number 111 , I knew it was meant to be mine.
Now, the hum of SoHo below was muffled, almost a distant memory, as I lounged on the white plush couch in my living room. Fresh from my shower, wrapped in the softest silk robe I owned, I sank back against the cushions, savoring the quiet. My hair was still damp, and the scent of my favorite vanilla lotion lingered in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of the chamomile tea in my hands as I binged Sex And The City .
The sudden buzz of my phone on the glass coffee table shattered the calm. I glanced at it, half-expecting something from one of the girls. But the name that lit up the screen froze my heart in my chest – especially since I hadn’t spoken to or heard from him in almost two weeks.
Trevor: There’s been a development. I’m on my way over.
I blinked at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen.
On his way over? How did he even know where I lived?
A surge of panic rose in my chest before I pushed it down. Of course, he would know . This was Trevor – resourceful, relentless, and infuriatingly arrogant. Still, I had hoped my penthouse would remain mine alone, free of his presence.
Setting my phone down, I let out a sharp breath, brushing my hair back from my face. “ Of course .”
The tea was left untouched on the table as I rose from the couch, pacing to the windows. Below, the city glittered like a thousand tiny stars, but for the first time, the sight did little to calm me.
He was coming here . I wasn’t sure if it was the invasion of my space that rattled me or the fact that I had no idea what kind of ‘development’ had him rushing over uninvited. The only reason I wasn’t telling him to turn around and forget where he found my address, was because we had a job to do. I didn’t have the luxury of shutting him out if we wanted to untangle the mess between our families.
This wasn’t about him or me.
It was just business.
Letting out a sigh, I made my way to the bedroom, heading into my walk-in wardrobe. If he was going to barge into my space, I’d at least make sure I wasn’t facing him in a silk robe and lingerie.
Jeans and a white, light sweater. Casual. Cute.
Nothing that said I was waiting up for him.
The sharp knock on my door made me pause mid-step in the living room, my heart skipping once before settling into an annoyed thud. I had barely just changed and was fixing my hair when I reached the door and opened it.
Trevor stood there, in jeans and a T-shirt, both loose and laid back in style – a contrast to the black suits he usually wore. Unyielding and intimidating as ever, his ice-cold expression a mix of determination and something darker.
Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside, already mid-sentence. “I got a rat.”
I blinked, caught off guard by his momentum. Closing the door behind him, I turned to see him pacing into the living room like he owned the place. Dropping a folder onto the kitchen island, its contents spilled slightly to reveal charts, bank records, and transaction logs.
Trevor pointed to the documents. “It’s a shell game,” Trevor continued, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “They’ve been hitting us at our weakest points – your dad’s shipments, my dad’s deals – but the real profits are being rerouted. Someone’s been benefitting this whole time, using accounts that looked like our own. While we’ve been too busy blaming each other for the big hit jobs to notice them stealing money from right under our noses.”
“They want us to start a war.” I exhaled sharply, sinking onto one of the bar stools. “How long have you known this?”
“Two weeks,” He admitted. “I needed to be sure before I came to you. We’re being played, Natalia. And whoever it is – they’ve been exploiting the fact that we don’t trust each other.”
The weight of his words sank in, and for the first time in weeks, the anger I usually felt toward him dissolved. Instead, a fierce determination surged in its place.
“What’s the plan? How do we retaliate?”
His eyes met mine, and for a fleeting moment, there was no division between us anymore. “We find them before they find us again. And we make sure they regret ever stepping into our territory.”
I nodded, adrenaline coursing through me.
There was only one goal: winning.
All of our past arguments, our grudges… They didn’t matter in this moment.
“Listen…”
I glanced up from the document I was reviewing when Trevor took a seat next to me on an island stool.
“I’ll admit,” He said, but there was a glint of amusement and mischief in his eyes. “I was wrong about Maria and Zach.” My brows rose in surprise. “They might actually be… Good together . He hasn’t shut up about her since the club.”
A sudden memory hit me.
‘Natalia, right?’ When I nodded, Zach raised his chin in Trevor’s direction. ‘This one won’t shut up about you.’
My smile faltered slightly.
“Has she said anything about him? To you, I mean.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Maria? I mean, you know how she is. Always guarded. Always detached. But I think she’s definitely into Zach. Why?”
“No reason,” He said casually. “Just curious.”
I studied him for a moment, unsure what to make of his sudden interest. But before I could dig further, he changed the subject.
“Look,” Trevor said, his tone turning businesslike. “We’ve hit a wall with this. If we’re going to figure out who’s pulling the strings, we need help.”
I frowned. “What kind of help?”
The Midtown building was sleek, its exterior all white stone, the kind of place that screamed exclusivity. Above the entrance, black elegant lettering spelled out the name of what appeared to be a high-end gym.
P Y T H O N
I’d seen it before. Walked by it on the street. Glanced at it from the car. Though I never suspected it was owned by someone from the life.
Trevor didn’t say a word as he rounded the steering wheel of his Ferrari, turning the corner on a side alley. When he stepped out of the car, I followed. Glancing over my shoulder, I squinted my eyes. The faint glow of the city swallowed by the looming darkness around us.
I kept close, my pink heels clicking softly against the pavement. As we neared the door, two monstrous figures emerged from the shadows, sending my heart into my throat.
Both men wore sharp suits, their faces obscured by black masks covering the bottom half of their faces. They didn’t speak, didn’t make a sound, but one of them gave a slight nod before moving aside, granting Trevor – and by extension, me – silent permission to enter. The other pushed the door open and held it for us.
Trevor barely acknowledged them, pausing only to make sure I walked in safely before following right behind us.
The weight of his hand pressed against my lower back until the heavy metal door swung shut behind me.
The hallway inside was dark, lit by a few scattered, flickering bulbs that cast eerie shadows along the cracked cement walls. I walked next to Trevor, my footsteps echoing faintly. The air smelled faintly of metal and damp stone, and I had the distinct feeling I was descending into some kind of underworld.
The elevator at the end of the corridor was surprisingly modern and secure.
As we stepped in, Trevor pressed the button for minus five .
“What is this place?”
He smirked, sparing me a slight glance. “You’ll see.”
The elevator jerked slightly before descending. The longer it moved, the heavier the air seemed to grow. When the doors finally slid open, I was hit with a wave of sound and light so intense, it momentarily disoriented me.
We stepped out into chaos.
The space was enormous, a sprawling underground warehouse that looked as though it had been abandoned and reclaimed by something raw and untamed. The ceilings went high, and beams of light cut through the haze of smoke. Music boomed from massive speakers mounted along the walls, the bass shaking the floor beneath.
The space was packed with people. Some huddled in groups, drinking and smoking, others dancing to the music. At the far end of the room, a makeshift bar was crowded with bodies clamoring for drinks, while servers weaved through with their hands high up, balancing trays.
Trevor reached back and grabbed my wrist, his grip firm but not rough. We pushed through the crowd, Trevor parting the sea of people like a force of nature. The farther we walked, the louder the noise became. At first, I thought it was just the music, but then I realized it was something else – something more primal .
The roar of a crowd.
A fighting cage stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by a dense circle of onlookers shouting and cheering. Two fighters moved inside it, their bodies glistening with sweat as they traded blows. The energy in the room was electric, the kind of raw, unfiltered chaos that felt both thrilling and dangerous.
But it wasn’t just the cage that caught my attention.
When I looked up, I realized we were in the very pit of the warehouse. The building’s square under-structure rose around us, forming an almost coliseum-like effect. Several floors of balconies wrapped around the space, packed with more people watching the fight from above. It was a labyrinth of cement and steel, an architectural anomaly that felt both ancient and industrial.
This wasn’t just a fight club. This was a world unto itself.
Trevor’s hand didn’t leave my wrist as he led me towards the other side of the floor. I could faintly make out a cement staircase that spiraled upward to a VIP section.
Even higher above it, a blacked-out office. All guarded.
Whoever we were here to see, clearly operated at the very center of this chaos. And judging by the scale of it all, they were someone .
The megaphone crackled to life, cutting through the music and the noise of the crowd. A low, deep voice boomed out, immediately commanding attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!”
The crowd closed in on the cage, their cheers and whistles rising. Trevor still had my wrist, pulling me through the crush of bodies, but my attention was on the cage as the announcer continued.
“First, stepping into the ring, a man who needs no introduction. A fighter who’s turned this ring into his personal domain. Known for his undefeated streak and brute force, give it up for Mortal !”
The spotlight shifted, illuminating one corner of the cage. A huge man stepped into the ring, his physique almost unnatural in its bulk. He raised his arms, flexing for the crowd, and the response was immediate – cheers, a chant of his name that rolled through the room like thunder.
Trevor didn’t even glance at him, too focused on moving us forward, weaving through the mass of people with practiced ease.
“And now…” The announcer’s voice deepened. “For the very first time in this cage… Facing him tonight, the legend herself. Undefeated. Unmatched. Untamed. The Combat Goddess of the Underworld... MEISA!”
The crowd exploded.
If Mortal had stirred excitement, Meisa ignited a frenzy. People screamed her name, clapped, and stomped their feet in unison. The cage seemed to pulse with the energy of it.
My eyes locked onto the figure stepping toward the cage.
She walked with a deliberate, unhurried grace, a black hood obscuring most of her face and body. There was a coiled power in the way she moved, a predator closing in on its prey. As she climbed into the cage, the chants reached a fever pitch.
I couldn’t look away. My skin pricked at the thought of a woman getting in a cage with that monstrosity of a man.
Her cloak shifted as she moved, revealing hints of her build – strong but lean, every movement calculated and smooth. Her back was to me as she stood in the cage, hands at her sides, entirely unfazed by the chaos around her.
Reaching up, she pulled back the hood.
Her long, dark hair spilled out in two intricate braids, and the cloak dropped from her shoulders to reveal a couple of tattoos that climbed her back. Bold, intricate patterns, unmistakably Japanese in design – dragons, cherry blossoms, and swirling waves etched into her brown skin like a story.
The crowd roared louder, but I didn’t hear it.
I frowned, confused.
Trevor’s hand yanked on my wrist again, impatient, but I dug my heels in, pulling him back. My eyes stayed fixed on the girl fighter, my mind racing.
“Trevor…” My voice came out more breathless than I intended.
“Look out for a big, Asian guy with neck tats,” He threw over his shoulder, not stopping.
“Trevor, wait .” This time, I grabbed his arm with enough force to make him stop.
He turned, irritation clear in his frown and raised a furrowed eyebrow, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the cage.
“Is that…?” My words trailed off, but he followed my gaze.
The woman fighter turned slightly, her profile visible for just a moment, and it was all the confirmation we needed.
Kali.
My best friend. His sister.
In the ring. Fighting a man twice her size.
I thought of Kali’s sweet, mischievous smile; her quick wit and sarcasm. The girl who always knew how to cheer me up. Who I saw multiple times a week. Who I hung out with and went shopping all the time.
That same girl now stood in the center of the cage, her face hard and unyielding, tattoos gleaming under the harsh lights.
“ What the f– ”
A bell rang, cutting him off, and announcing the start of the fight.
“Trevor!” A deep voice called through the crowd.
Trevor’s head snapped in the direction of the sound, and we both spotted him – a tall, broad Asian man with black neck tattoos that crept up to his jawline.
The guy Trevor had been looking for.
I glanced back at the cage. Kali moved with terrifying speed, her fists a blur as she landed punch after punch. Blood spattered the cage floor as the crowd roared.
Trevor pushed through the crowd, dragging me behind him. “Stop the fucking fight!” He screamed, his voice cutting through the noise, as he pointed towards the cage.
The man frowned, clearly confused. “What?”
When Trevor reached him, he let go of his hold on me, grabbing the guy by his collar, yanking him. “You’ve got my fucking sister fighting men here without me knowing?!” Trevor’s voice roared with rage, chilling the blood in my veins.
The man froze for a beat, then blinked, stunned. “Your what ?”
We all turned to look at the fight just as Mortal charged at Kali.
But Kali moved first.
Climbing the cage wall with a precision that sent the crowd into a frenzy, she leaped onto him, her legs snapping around his thick neck like a vice.
Her body twisted, muscles taut as she locked her ankles together and wrenched him off balance. The man staggered, clawing at her legs, his face turning red as he gasped for air. But Kali held on, her grip firm, her expression cold as stone.
He fell to his knees, and the cage floor shuddered under his weight. Blood smeared across the ground as he pitched forward, his movements growing slower, weaker. The crowd screamed louder, chanting her name.
Kali shifted her position with ruthless efficiency, tightening her chokehold.
Then it was over.
Mortal’s body went slack. The referee hesitated, unsure whether to intervene, but before he could, she released him with a shove, sending his massive frame crumpling to the ground.
Sighs of relief left not only me, but Trevor too.
His friend, on the other hand, had no reaction, other than glaring across the floor towards Kali.
In the cage, she stood over her opponent; chest heaving, fists clenched and bloody. Kali screamed, a guttural, primal sound that sent a chill down my spine. She threw her hands in the air, circling the cage and urging the crowd to roar louder.
And they did, the energy in the room boiling over.
The cage doors opened, and Kali hurried out; her long braids swung as she moved, blood still dripping from her knuckles.
The crowd erupted into another wave of deafening cheers, but she didn’t seem to hear them anymore.
Kali’s focus was fixed on a man waiting for her just outside the cage. She jumped into his arms, and he caught her with ease, laughing as he spun her around. The gesture was affectionate; intimate . His hands steady, holding her like she weighed nothing.
Then Kali threw a fist in the air, her victorious grin lighting up the chaos around her. The crowd roared again, their energy feeding off hers, and the man holding her smirked, clearly enjoying the spotlight just as much.
My chest tightened with recognition.
Tony DeMone .
The youngest of the DeMone siblings.
I’d only met him a handful of times, but his reputation was impossible to ignore. Tony was a legend in the criminal underworld – a fighter so devastating that his matches rarely lasted longer than ten seconds. A knockout artist who moved like a predator and hit like a sledgehammer.
A sudden memory from Eclipse hit me. Francesca worried about her younger brother. And Kali’s tight, almost angry response. He’s fine.
And now, my best friend was wrapped around him, bloodied and triumphant, looking like she belonged here, in his world.
Gripping my wrist again, Trevor bulldozed through the crowd as we cut a path toward Kali and Tony. Her victorious grin faltered the second she saw her brother.
Tony, on the other hand, stood calm as ever, his arm dropping from her as he set her down. “Relax, man–”
In one swift move, Trevor released my wrist and grabbed Tony by the collar, hoisting him up.
“You wanna explain to me what you’re doing here with my little sister?” Trevor’s voice was low and lethal.
Tony’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, but his voice stayed even. “She’s a good fighter–”
“Not your fucking problem, dago .”
The slur hit like a slap, but Tony didn’t flinch. Instead, his hands came up, clamping down on Trevor’s wrists, which were still gripping his collar. His arms tensed, and I saw the veins in his forearms bulge with the same intensity as Trevor’s.
“ Back. Off .” Tony’s tone was a cold; a quiet confidence that only came from knowing exactly what he was capable of.
My stomach tightened as I glanced between the two of them, certain they were about to kill each other.
Tony might’ve been just twenty – not even old enough to legally drink – but he was a killer in the ring, undefeated and terrifying. His matches weren’t fights – they were executions.
Trevor wasn’t exactly a stranger to violence, either. Six years older and already the unofficial head of his family. He had built his reputation on being ruthless. A different kind of dangerous.
Tony smirked, a flicker of amusement breaking through his stoic exterior. “She’s here because she wants to be. No one forced her. Least of all me.”
Trevor’s grip tightened, and Tony’s hands flexed in response. The tension crackled like a live wire between them, and I could see the sheer force of will it took for both of them not to throw the first punch.
People were beginning to back off, but before it could escalate further, Trevor’s friend – the owner – stepped between the two, separating them.
Trevor pushed him off, probably still pissed about the situation.
“Whatever,” Kali snapped, rolling her eyes as she brushed past all of us. “I’m getting out of here.”
“No, you’re not.” Trevor’s tone left no room for argument. He took a step, cutting off her exit. “You’re coming with me, Natalia, and Zane to the back. You .” His gaze flicked to Tony, sharp and dismissive. “Get lost.”
“Fuck you, motherfucker,” Tony shot back.
Kali turned to Tony, and her expression softened as she moved to hug him. “Thanks for the help.”
Tony’s arms wrapped around her easily, his broad frame making her look small for the first time all night. “Anytime,” He murmured, his voice just loud enough for me to catch.
Kali pulled back, her eyes meeting his with a warmth that felt almost foreign in this brutal setting. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tony nodded and stepped back, his expression dangerous as he gave Trevor one last glance. Then, turned and walked away, vanishing into the sea of people like a shadow.
Trevor’s friend, whose name I’d just learned was Zane, tracked Kali the whole interaction, his stare drilling into the back of her head. His expression was carefully blank, but there was something simmering beneath the surface. Anger? Disapproval? I couldn’t tell, but the air around him practically vibrated with unspoken tension.
As soon as Tony was out of sight, he turned to Zane. “I need you for something,” He said bluntly, his voice sharp and all business now, even though his jaw was still clenched tight.
Zane didn’t respond right away, his attention on Kali as she crossed her arms and glared at her brother. “Fine,” He said finally, his tone clipped. “We’ll talk upstairs.”
Trevor’s hand found my wrist again, making sure I wouldn’t get lost through the crowd.
As we headed toward the blacked-out office upstairs, I glanced over my shoulder at Kali. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a flash in her eyes as she glanced at Zane’s back, who was leading the way.