The Thief and The Smuggler

7: The Art of Sparring

The Art of Sparring

The soft hum of the gym's lights echoed in the empty room, a stark contrast to the quiet tension that hung in the air. Gabriel stood across from Alina, his posture relaxed but his eyes focused. The training area was simple—bare walls, a few mats on the floor, and a couple of punching bags hanging from the ceiling. But to Alina, it felt like a different world, a world where the stakes were high, and every move could mean the difference between life and death.

"Ready?" Gabriel's voice cut through the stillness, his tone calm but laced with something else—an edge that suggested this wasn't just about the training. It was a test.

Alina rolled her shoulders, loosening up. "Born ready."

A faint smile flickered at the corner of Gabriel's mouth as he stepped forward, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. His movements were slow and deliberate, each one calculated as if he were preparing for something more than just a sparring match.

"I'm going to teach you the basics," Gabriel said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "You need to be prepared in case things go sideways in India. If they catch you off guard, it's over."

Alina nodded. The stakes for the India job were clear—too many enemies, too many opportunities for things to go wrong. Gabriel was a master at anticipating threats, but this job was different. The cartel, the black market, Interpol... There were too many unknowns. She needed to be ready for anything.

Gabriel moved to stand in front of her, his eyes locking onto hers, the faintest flicker of something unreadable passing between them. For a brief moment, the air felt charged—something electric humming just beneath the surface.

"First rule," Gabriel said, his voice low, "never let your guard down. I know you're good at getting in and out of places unnoticed, but you need to handle yourself if the situation turns physical."

Alina shifted into a basic stance, watching Gabriel closely as he mirrored her movements. Despite the confidence she projected, she wasn't naïve. Gabriel had the kind of presence that could freeze you in your tracks, and his control was palpable. He'd fought his way to the top of the criminal world—he was a dangerous man, and she would have to keep up with him if she hoped to survive this life.

He moved in close, too fast for her to react at first, but she quickly shifted, dodging his reach.

"Not bad," he remarked, his voice low and approving. "But you need to anticipate. Don't just react."

She was on her toes now, focusing on every inch of him, his movements as fluid and precise as a predator stalking its prey.

"Move with me, Alina," he said, his voice a sharp command. "Predict where I'm going. If you think like I do, you can beat me to the punch."

She didn't answer, but a flicker of determination flashed in her eyes. Alina wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

Gabriel's body shifted, and before she could process it, he closed the distance between them, his arm shooting out to grab her by the wrist. He pulled her toward him with surprising strength, and she stumbled slightly before catching her balance. She attempted to twist free, but his grip was solid, his hand firm around her wrist, just enough to test her resolve.

"Better," he said, his lips close to her ear, his voice a whisper that carried an intensity she hadn't expected. "You've got to control the space between us. You're giving me too much room to work with."

Alina's breath hitched slightly, the proximity between them sending a strange warmth spreading through her chest. She could feel the heat of his body, the subtle strength in his movements. The pull between them felt almost magnetic, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

She twisted her wrist, this time with more force, using the momentum to break free from his hold. Gabriel didn't let her get far. He followed, staying close, his movements fluid, never giving her the opportunity to get ahead. They circled each other for a moment, each one sizing the other up, their gazes locking.

"There's something in you, Alina," Gabriel said, his eyes darkening with something more than just strategy. "You're not just a thief. You've got the instincts of a fighter. I see it."

Her heart pounded, the words sinking in deeper than she wanted them to. There was something in Gabriel's presence that made it hard to think clearly, to keep a level head. The way he looked at her, like he was always two steps ahead, like he could see straight into her, made her feel exposed.

The tension between them was growing, an undercurrent to their interaction that was impossible to ignore. She couldn't help but notice the way his gaze lingered on her as she moved, the way his hands brushed her skin when they practiced the moves.

Gabriel stepped closer again, this time guiding her through a series of fluid motions, showing her how to dodge a hit, how to position her body for maximum defense. His touch was brief but purposeful, his hands warm as they corrected her posture, adjusted her stance. His proximity made her aware of every subtle movement, every shift in his body language. And every time their hands brushed, something sparked between them—an unspoken tension that was impossible to ignore.

"You've got potential," he said, his voice low, the words carrying a weight of something more. "But you need to learn control. Don't let your emotions get in the way. Keep your head straight, always."

She nodded, focusing on the next series of moves he demonstrated. She didn't want to get distracted—not by the rising pulse in her veins, not by the way his body seemed to be attuned to hers. This was training, pure and simple. Nothing more. Nothing less.

But the line between them was thin—too thin—and she could feel it stretching under the pressure. Gabriel was too close, too much a force in her life. She couldn't deny the way her heart beat faster whenever he was near, how his presence seemed to fill the space around them, both a blessing and a curse.

As they continued to spar, Gabriel's touch became more subtle, more instructive. Yet, there was something more beneath his words, something unspoken. They both knew it, but neither of them acknowledged it aloud.

Finally, Gabriel stepped back, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths. His eyes never left hers, his expression unreadable, as if he were calculating her next move—or perhaps something deeper.

"Good," he said, his voice smooth, the flicker of approval in his gaze undeniable. "You're ready. Just keep your mind sharp. And remember—anticipate."

Alina stood there for a moment, her breath still coming fast, her body humming with adrenaline. There was something about the way Gabriel looked at her now, something that left a mark. She had trained with men before, but no one made her feel like this—not with just their skill, but with their presence.

She swallowed the feeling that had begun to settle in her chest. "I'm ready," she said, keeping her voice steady.

Gabriel nodded, his lips curling into a small, enigmatic smile. "We'll see about that."

As they both stood there, the air thick with unspoken words, Alina knew one thing for certain: the games they were playing were only just beginning. And in this game, the stakes were higher than either of them could fully comprehend.

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