Meanwhile, high above the chaos of the arena, in a lavish private suite that overlooked the blood-soaked battleground, two dangerous women watched the fight unfold.
Dominique sat like a queen on her throne, one massive leg slung over the other, a half-empty bottle of dark rum in her grip. Beside her, lounging as if it were her own damn palace, was Nadya - orange hair tied up messily, boots kicked onto the table, and a grin tugging at her lips with every blow Kai landed.
"Hah! Look at him," Nadya laughed, swirling her drink lazily. "The so-called Black Fang's getting tossed around like a doll at a toddler's tantrum party."
Despite the looseness of her tongue, Nadya's eyes stayed sharp, tracking every movement Kai made. The crowd roared below, but in here, their voices were distant echoes. Her gaze narrowed.
