Vivienne

4

❒ Romeo ❒

I look down at the envelope in my hand with the word ass-wipe scribbled on the front. I shake my head a little amused. I didn't even know this girl's name and she was fucking with my head.

She was a complete contradiction. The first time I laid eyes on her I was heading to my car after the gym. She was just leaving the florist with a small bouquet wrapped in brown parchment and was wearing a white sundress with little pink flowers on them, and a pair of white platform sandals.

She just looked so soft and delicate. Her light brown hair reached her upper back and her features looked so delicate save for her eyes which were covered by a pair of sunglasses. I later learned they were a magnificent shade of grey.

The minute she opened her mouth at the auto shop, it was made very clear that she wasn't a fragile little girl. Her words were as sharp as glass, and her brain knew exactly where to pierce them.

After finishing a few things, I tuck the envelope into my back pocket and start to head out. I've got a match today so I can't let anything distract me, and I certainly can't be thinking about pretty little brunettes with foul mouths. I hop into my car and speed off to the warehouse.

✧༺♡༻✧

The sun had just set, and the lights were beginning to turn on. I could already hear the crowd inside the building. From the outside, it looked like a regular abandoned warehouse, but the inside surpassed that illusion.

I greet the bodyguards that stood at the entrance with a single nod, they open the door almost instantly. The first thing I notice is the number of people. The floor is reserved for the arena while the walls are populated with hundreds of people, especially the first few rows. They don't matter, they're only here to bet. It's the people on the top. The refined ladies and gentlemen, dressed in their expensive suits and gowns, credit cards ready to pay thousands of dollars on their favourite boxer.

This wasn't a place for amateurs.

Even the changing rooms were luxurious, with every boxer getting their very own room. Buckets of iced beverages stood on either side of the spacious couch, a flat-screen mounted above the console, and even a bed with a first aid kit in the bedside drawer. It worked as motivation for us to win and get to stay.

Because once you lose too many times in a row, you're out. And if you cause the right people to lose enough money, you disappear.

I've only been here a couple of weeks and I knew losing wasn't an option. So far so good.

After getting into gear, a knock sounds on the door. "Torelli! You're up." I fix my mouth guard and clench my teeth. It was the only equipment we were allowed to have on aside from the boxing tape and gauze. That was what made this exciting for the viewers, it was a game of pure strength and strategy, no weapons of any kind were allowed. It was also what made it dangerous enough for it to be illegal and for the upper echelons to bet on.

Everything looked clean and refined until someone was getting pummelled to death while everyone watched.

I walk up the aisle as I hear the announcer start to yell into the microphone from a glass booth at the top of the building. "Everybody please welcome to the stage, The Gentleman!" I take my cue and jog up to the arena and look up to find Mr. Ford looking right at me. He gives me a single nod.

I don't hear the announcer introduce my opponent as he walks onto the stage. I'm too busy scanning him. He's short, which most likely means he's fast, although I'm much bigger than him and quite swift, I knew my speed wouldn't help me. I needed to attack his legs and hit low to send him toppling over.

Once the audience is told to place their bets using the buttons on their chairs, the buzzer sounds. After that I drown everything out, my mind only working on figuring out how to beat this guy.

He runs at me first. This is clearly his first or second time. He hits me square in the stomach. Thought I'd give the little guy some hope. He circles around me, and I let him. Once he charges at me, I lower my stance and kick the guy in the knee making him fall awkwardly to the side.

He rolls back up, now I'm the one circling him. Still choosing to attack me, he runs up with his fist ready to hit my face. I swiftly duck and kick high enough for the heel of my foot to go flying into the side of his head.

A second later he's laying unconscious on the floor of the arena. The sound of cheering fills my ears as turn to see Mr. Ford with a satisfied smile on his face.

One down, two more to go.