Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Miles
July 4th
Six months and here it is: the day we open.
Bright lights buzz overhead, and the scent of fresh paint mingles with the tang of sweat.
I stand at the entrance, heart pounding.
Today’s the day.
“Can you believe it?” Nova shouts over the noise, her face lit up like a kid on Christmas. She’s setting up mats, her hands steady and quick. “It’s finally happening!”
“Yeah, I can.” I adjust my black tank top, feeling the fabric hug my muscles. “Been waiting for this moment for ages.”
“Get ready,” she says, eyeing the crowd gathering outside. “Here they come.”
I step forward, nerves sparking in my gut.
The doors swing open, and a flood of people pours in.
Local media, fans, fighters—everyone’s buzzing, their voices drowning each other out.
I can barely hear myself think.
“Well, here goes nothin’,” I mutter to myself, straightening my back.
I catch sight of my father, his imposing figure cutting through the throng.
He’s talking to an interviewer, gesturing animatedly.
I can almost see the pride radiating off him.
“Hey,” Nova waves, pulling me from my thoughts. “We need to get the opening ceremony started!”
“Right behind you.” I force a smile, but my mind drifts.
This isn’t just a gym—it’s our legacy.
It’s my chance to prove I’m more than what my old man wanted me to be.
“Any idea where my woman is?” I ask, scanning the crowd.
My chest tightens at the thought of her.
“She said she’d be here right before we kick things off,” Nova replies, adjusting her ponytail. “You nervous?”
“Not about the gym. Just… her.”
“Go find her real quick then,” Nova nudges me. “You’re gonna need her by your side.”
“You’re right.” I nod, pushing through the chaos, searching for that familiar spark—and then I see her.
Stiletto stands near the entrance, her long hair cascading past her shoulders, eyes bright with excitement.
She catches my gaze and smiles.
A rush of heat fills my chest.
I stride toward her. “Hey, you made it,” I say, breathless.
She steps closer, the energy between us crackling. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I lean in, capturing her lips with mine.
Everything else fades away, only leaving room for me and her.
“Whoa,” she whispers when we pull apart, her cheeks flushed. “Where the hell did that come from?”
I grin, and my father approaches, a knowing look on his face. “Nothing, babe. Just how I feel about today.”
My father pulls her into a warm embrace, and I watch them, a mix of pride and anxiety swirling inside me. “Hello, Song.”
“Good to see you again, Mr. Lion,” she beams, genuine warmth in her voice.
“Called it from the start, didn’t I?” he grins. “Happy you two are finally together.”
“Yeah, never thought it would happen,” she laughs, glancing at me.
But there’s something deeper in her eyes, something that tells me she’s glad it did.
Dad steps up beside me. “I’m glad it did. But, look at this place. You two kids did a damn good job,”
His eyes scan the crowd.
Camera flashes pop like firecrackers.
Journalists hover like vultures, notebooks in hand.
“I didn’t think it’d be this big,” I say, shaking my head.
A knot tightens in my stomach.
I was picturing a couple of local bloggers, maybe some influencers. Not this circus.
“Your mother would’ve loved to see this.” He glances away, and I catch a flicker of something—regret?
It’s gone before I can ask.
Instead, I focus on the reporters jostling for position.
They want a piece of me.
“Let’s get this over with,” I mutter, pulling my leather jacket tighter.
“Just be yourself,” Dad pats my shoulder. “They’re here to learn about the gym.”
“Yeah, right.” I roll my eyes. “Just a gym opening.”
He smirks, but there’s pride in his voice. “With a Lion behind it, kid.”
I nod, trying to shake off the weight of expectation.
A woman calls out, waving her arm like she’s conducting traffic. “Next!”
I step forward, plastering on a smile that feels more like a mask. “Guess it’s showtime.”
The first interviewer approaches, a slick dude in a blazer. “Miles Lion, it’s opening day for your gym, huh? How does it feel?”
“Like I’m about to throw up.” Laughter erupts from the small crowd gathered.
I suppress a grin.
“Seriously, though.” He leans in, eager. “Have you thought about following in your family’s footsteps and competing?”
“Not really.” I shrug, keeping it real. “I’m not in this for fame. I want to build something solid here.”
He raises an eyebrow, pushing harder. “Solid? Like a legacy?”
“Yeah.” I cross my arms. “But it’s for my future kids, not for me.”
He scribbles notes, moving on to the next question. “Fair enough.”
I glance across the room, spotting Stiletto chatting with some fans.
She catches my eye and gives me a thumbs-up.
“Next question,” the reporter prompts.
But all I can think about is her smile.
“Can we wrap this up? There’s a lot of people I need to talk to,” I cut in, feeling restless.
There’s too much noise, too many expectations.
I’m ready to break free.
“Sure thing.” He smirks, sensing my urgency. “Final thoughts?”
“Just come to the gym. Let’s make it a home for everyone. Doesn’t matter if you have little ones. We have an in house daycare who will watch them while you get your workout in.” I step back, relieved as he nods and signals for the next one.
He gestures toward another journalist, and I’m already backing away. “What a nice bonus for everyone.”
“Thanks.” My heart races, but I push through the crowd, weaving past cameras and curious faces.
I need some damn air.
Another voice calls. “Hey, Miles!”
I turn, catching sight of a familiar face among the throng. “Yeah?”
“Is it true you’re opening more locations?”
“Maybe one day,” I keep walking, focused on Stiletto.
I don’t want to get caught in another round of questions.
“Excited for the future?”
“Definitely.” My voice is firm.
No bullshit.
I reach Song just as another wave of questions starts swirling around me again.
The last interviewer walks away, and I take a deep breath, grateful they gave up.
The energy in the gym buzzes around me—heavy bags swinging, weights clanging, voices rising in laughter and sweat.
“That was a nice interview,” she teases, tilting her head.
“Yeah? You think I should have said more?”
“Honestly? Nah. You nailed it.”
I close the distance, pulling her into me.
Our lips collide, urgency sparking through me.
It’s electric, passionate, everything I yearn for.
“Wow, getting bold, huh?” she breathes, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze.
“Just showing you what you were missing,” I reply, my voice low.
She rolls her eyes, but a blush creeps into her cheeks. “Right. Is there anything else we need to do?” Her brows knit together as she scans the room.
“Maybe check in with Nova? Make sure she has everything covered.” I nod toward the front desk where Nova, Roxy’s daughter, is busy organizing the schedules.
She’s got a knack for running things smoothly.
“Good call.” Stiletto glances over. “How many trainers are we still looking for?”
“Just two more,” I reply, mentally kicking myself for not finding them faster. “We want the best. Keep this place rolling.”
“Yeah, and keep the club kids employed.” She leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching the crowd.
Aggie is chatting with some guests nearby.
Noelle is buzzing around, helping out wherever she can.
“Exactly.” I can see it now—this place thriving, a hub for the community.
It’s not just a gym—it’s going to be another thing that brings the community together.
“You think Nova will be okay managing it all?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.
“I’m sure she’s got it handled,” I assure her. “Roxy raised her right. Just like Grim and Natalie did with Aggie.”
“True.” Stiletto flashes me a knowing look. “You know, it’s great seeing everyone get involved. Feels like… a real community.”
“Exactly,” I agree, my eyes scanning across the room. “We’re not just any other gym. We’re not just a club. We’re a family.”
Stiletto laughs, her hazel-green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Family drama included?”
“There’s always going to be drama.” I can’t help but grin.
The crowd is thinning out now, the music lowering as the night progresses.
The journalists have all but disappeared, replaced by genuine community members who are thrilled about the new gym.
“But,” I continue, drawing her attention back to me. “It’s our drama, our mess. It’s part of what makes us... well, us."
She chuckles at that, her red hair dancing under the dim light of the gym as she nods in agreement. “Can’t argue with that,” she replies, leaning up to plant a soft kiss on my cheek.
“Now,” she begins after pulling away from me, sweeping her gaze around the crowd once more. “I’m ready for this day to be over so I can take you upstairs and have my way with you.”
I chuckle, “There’s nothing stopping you from doing it right now, baby.”