Special thanks to @jiyoungmochi for the cover!!
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❝𝐀 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥. ❞
Renata Vartanov had been through hell. Sold to a brothel and thrusted into prostitution at thirteen along with her then toddler...
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𝐵𝐴𝑁𝐺!
The sound of me punching a hole through my punching bag ricocheted around the room, bouncing off walls like an echoing bullet.
I took off my boxing gloves and brought the bag close to me to inspect the damage I'd caused.
"Fuck," I mumbled, appalled by the situation.
I knew the bag was old and weaker than a standard one, but I didn't intend to put an end to its usefulness today.
Then again, I didn't intend on a lot of things today.
My father's 'suggestion' being second most surprising on the list.
First was already taken by a tempting little someone, and Enzo didn't deserve the spot of first on my mind.
I groaned and pushed it away from me as the sand and sawdust filling inside spilled freely, messing up my studio floor.
"Great. Just 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 great." I breathed to myself as I stared at the mess. I'd come to my boxing studio below the mansion for some release.
Smoking didn't do shit, and it'd been a while since I last exhausted myself by punching something. The feeling of exhaustion was relaxing to me, and that was what I'd expected to feel tonight before the punching bag gave out.
I placed a rag on the floor and unhooked the bag from its hanging position, placing it gradually on the rag before I hurriedly tied it around the hole to prevent more spilling.
Then, I dusted my hands on my pants and wiped a sweat off my brow as I looked for the brush to sweep the mess away.
Sudden footsteps resounded from the hallway, getting louder as they approached.
I already knew who it was before she spoke. "It's in the storage closet behind you, dummy." Cata quipped, leaning against the doorframe as she stepped into my studio leisurely.
She wore running shorts and a matching tank top, with her hair tied down in a low ponytail and her hands fitted with the custom designed boxing gloves I'd gotten her a few months ago for winning a big match.
𝓒 and 𝓡 stood out, stitched with golden thread on the gloves. Catalina Romano.
"Thanks. Being called a dummy by my sister was exactly what I needed tonight." I rolled with eyes playfully and got the brush and dustpan out of the storage closet.
I started sweeping as Catalina inspected the broken punching bag. "Yeesh! What did the poor thing do to you?" She questioned, going down on a knee and running her now degloved fingers on the punching bag.
"Nothing." I grumbled, pouring away the contents of the dustpan into a trash bin.
"Get up," I started. "There's a spare in the storage room, come help me get it." I instructed.
