The underground fight club pulsed with raw, untamed energy. Dim, flickering lights barely cut through the haze of cigarette smoke and sweat-soaked air. The scent of blood and whiskey mingled with the heavy bass of music pounding from unseen speakers, vibrating through the concrete walls. The crowd was restless, a mass of bodies pressed together, their voices rising in eager anticipation for the next fight.
Adrian leaned against a rusted metal pillar near the bar, swirling the dark amber liquid in his glass, his sharp gaze scanning the ring with lazy disinterest—until he saw her.
Valeria.
She hadn't noticed him yet, and for once, he let himself watch.
She stood near the edge of the ring, her weight shifted to one side, arms crossed as if she owned the place. Her hair, usually cascading in luxurious waves, was tied into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, a few loose strands framing her face, making her look effortlessly untamed. A thin layer of sweat clung to her golden skin, the dim lights catching on her collarbones, her exposed shoulders.
She looked different here. Wilder.
The poised, calculated seductress from their dance, the teasing mystery over expensive dinners, was nowhere to be found. This Valeria was alive in a way he hadn't seen before—like she belonged in the chaos, like she thrived in it.
Adrian exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around his glass.
Then the moment shattered.
A man—a brute of a drunk—stumbled too close to her, towering over her with the overconfidence of someone who had never been put in his place. He leaned in, said something low, something crude, his breath undoubtedly reeking of cheap alcohol.
Adrian straightened, his jaw tensing.
He had half a mind to intervene—until Valeria moved.
Her smirk was slow, almost indulgent, before her hand shot out in a blur, gripping the man's wrist in a sharp, merciless twist. The snap of bone-on-bone contact made him howl in pain, his drunken bravado vanishing in an instant.
Gasps rippled through the crowd, but she wasn't done.
Before he could react, she pivoted on her heel, delivering a precise, brutal kick to his knee. The impact forced him to stumble, barely keeping himself upright.
The crowd roared.
The man snarled, rage flashing in his eyes as he regained his balance. He swung at her—wild, undisciplined.
Valeria barely moved. She shifted just enough for the punch to miss, her body a graceful blur, her expression almost bored.
She was playing with him.
Adrian could see it—the careful dance of her dodges, the way she let the man think he had a chance. She feigned carelessness, allowing him to get close before slipping away at the last second, taunting him with her effortless precision.
The brute lunged again.
She stepped into him this time, catching his momentum and using it against him. Her knee slammed into his ribs, the sharp sound of impact making the crowd flinch. He gasped, doubling over.
She didn't hesitate.
A swift step behind him—another well-placed kick—sent him crashing to the ground with a thud.
The underground erupted. Cheers, bets being exchanged, fists pounding against tables and walls in excitement.
Valeria, still breathing evenly, didn't move right away. She stared down at the groaning man beneath her, then, as if deciding she wasn't quite finished, she stepped over him and straddled his fallen form, lowering herself just enough for him to see the amusement dancing in her dark eyes.
Adrian exhaled sharply, something primal curling in his gut.
She leaned in, her voice low and smooth—soft enough that only the man beneath her, and Adrian, could hear.
"You really should've walked away."
The brute groaned, a mix of pain and humiliation darkening his face.
With a slow smirk, she rose to her feet, stepping back as if she hadn't just humiliated him in front of a roaring audience. One hand casually reached up, undoing the messy bun at the nape of her neck, letting her hair spill down her back in unruly waves.
And then, she turned.
Her gaze locked onto Adrian's, piercing through the noise, the bodies, the chaos.
Everything else faded.
His grip tightened around his glass as he took her in—the sheen of sweat on her skin, the faint flush of adrenaline coloring her cheeks, the rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath.
She lifted her chin, her lips curling just slightly, an unspoken challenge in her eyes.
Adrian smirked, lifting his glass in silent acknowledgment.
Valeria held his gaze for another second before turning away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving him with a smoldering heat curling low in his stomach.
She had surprised him tonight.
And now, he was obsessed.