He leans into my space, dripping mockery. “I call bullshit. If you wanted to, you could find a replacement. But I guess you like to play it safe.” He winks at me. “Your loss. This is going to be epic. Downfall of the new management. You will be blacklisted from any events in the future.”
I glare at him. “What are you talking about?”
His grin widens, venomous. “If you back out today without giving us a match, I’ll make sure your gym and your name are blacklisted across the board.”
A tight pressure coils in my chest. “You don’t have that kind of power.”
“Maybe, but I have friends in high places who will make it happen.” He snickers.
“I don’t have a replacement for Lisa.”
He laughs. Cold, delighted. “You do, sweetheart. You're the replacement.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re insane if you think I’m fighting Naomi.”
“I’m perfectly sane,” he counters. “I’ve seen your files. You’re in her weight class again. You trained. You’re ready.” His smile deepens. “I assume you’ve been preparing ever since Naomi embarrassed you last time.”
“I’m not doing it.” No matter how much I want to get into that ring so I can beat the shit out of her.
Victor steps even closer, lowering his voice until it drips poison. “This is what’s going to happen. You're going to take Lisa’s place, or she will never see the light of day again.”
My blood turns cold. “What are you talking about?”
He pins me with a malicious stare. “Lisa is somewhere close; she was very eager to fight today. Unfortunately for her, it was a bad decision.” His voice dips into something cruel. “So, now she’s locked away, waiting for you to decide if she gets to breathe after tonight.”
The hatred pulsing through me is volcanic, but I keep my expression carved from stone. There’s only one priority now: Lisa.
“Fine,” I grit out. “But hear me clearly; if anything happens to her, you’ll answer directly to me. And I promise you won’t survive what I have planned for you.”
I turn and walk away, already planning, already calculating, already burning with the need to dismantle him piece by piece.
“Take your time!” he calls after me. “We’ll give you an extra thirty minutes.”
Changed into my fighting gear, I focus on warming myself enough in the next thirty minutes so I don’t hurt myself. I try to find the reasons behind all this, but I can’t. Something isn’t right. I will find out what, but first, the fight.
Hurried steps reach my ears, followed by Boris’s worried voice. “You can’t be serious. You can’t fight instead of Lisa.”
“I can,” I say, steady and unshakable. “And I will,”
“As your coach, I advise you against it.”
I face him fully, my voice sharp with resolve. “I need you not to be rational right now and get your head together, so if I go down, I don’t end up in the hospital.”
He places his hands on his hips. “You shouldn’t have agreed to this. What did he say to you?”
I shrug. “Does it matter?”
“It does,” he insists, breath tight.
I narrow my eyes. “He has Lisa locked up somewhere. I assume he isn't alone. Men like him never are.”
“Bastard,” Boris spits, dragging a hand through his hair. “He had it all planned.”
“What do you mean?”
“N.C was never supposed to fight,” he grinds out. “Rita was the original opponent. Someone switched the lineup before it even hit my desk, and I didn’t question it.”
I grip his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what happened; we need to do something about it. But first, focus on the fight. I need you to be there and lead me through this match.”
