The crowd gasped collectively.
But the knockout I expected didn't happen.
The tank-like brute spat out blood and broken teeth, fully enraged. He roared like a wild animal, charging at Nikolai again like an out-of-control freight truck, trying to pin him with sheer mass against the fence.
Nikolai didn't retreat. He ducked the grapple with agility, his black-wrapped elbow slamming into the brute's unguarded ribs.
I swear I heard bone snapping through the deafening metal music.
The brute howled, massive body buckling. Nikolai gave him no breath. He grabbed the back of the man's neck brutally, knee driving upward, smashing that meaty face straight into his kneecap.
Blood exploded under the harsh spotlight, splattering across Nikolai's broad chest and that old knife scar.
I pressed against the glass, legs weak, forgetting howto breathe.
Watching that man in the cage radiating lethal testosterone, my stomach stopped churning. Instead—a scalp-tingling tremor shot from my tailbone straight to my brain.
No tailored suit to hide behind. No Pakhan restraint or elegance. Right now, he was nothing but a pure Siberian alpha wolf ruling death itself.
Sweat dripped from his silver hair, running down his defined abs into those dangerous black pants.
Every punch, every movement made the dormant muscles in his back and arms coil tight—a destructive, savagely masculine force.
This was too dangerous. He was a fire that could burn you to ash. An abyss one look would doom you to forever.
But I couldn't look away.
My mouth went dry. My heart pounded in rhythm with his strikes. My veins felt like molten lava.
That extreme violence, combined with my bone-deep submission to and hunger for that raw power, created a lethal chemical reaction.
Writer's block? Fifteen deleted drafts? All incinerated by this blood-rush.
I wanted to record his every move. I wanted to possess this unrestrained beast entirely.
The fight ended with his opponent unconscious in a pool of blood. The whole thing—under three minutes.
The cage door opened. Amid deafening, roof-shaking roars, Nikolai slowly raised his head.
His silver hair soaked with sweat. Those slate-gray eyes cut through the harsh spotlight, locking precisely onto my VIP box. Even through bulletproof glass, I felt that pinning, predatory stare.
His lip was split, bleeding. But he flashed me an arrogant, devastatingly sexy smirk.
My sanity snapped.
I spun around, heels clicking, and ran like hell out of the box—straight toward him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Vivienne
I left the waiter's shouts behind and bolted down the rusted iron stairwell.
Following the signs plastered on the walls, I sprinted straight to the locker room.
I slammed through the door just as Nikolai walked in from the other side. The rusted iron door banged shut behind him. He locked it without looking.
"Jesus Christ, you were incredible up there!" I threw myself at him, eyes blazing, breath coming in ragged bursts. "I just had an entire chapter explode in my head! Aleksei in chapter 15—that underground casino scene—he needs that exact left hook you just threw! And that look you gave the balcony when you dodged that punch? Perfect. That's exactly how Aleksei would look at his enemy. That focused, brutal intensity..."
