REWRITE
It had already been a long night by the time Will stumbled across the warehouse, nearly totaling the SUV in the process. Though, nearly sending his family to the emergency room and the vehicle to the junk yard was worth it when he laid eyes on the secret concealed within the decrepit and decaying exterior. After procuring the building from its money-driven owner, Will pours everything he has into the warehouse. He's reviewed the books, he's read all the statistics on all the fighters in the roster, and, finally, he's ready to impress everyone with his improvements.
Stephanie would have hightailed it the moment she realized that the warehouse was under new management, though she couldn't afford the attention drawn her way; her secret is too dire to let slip so easily. Not only would she most likely be fired from the firm, but there was a good chance that she would be reported to the Law Society, and disbarred. Left with no choice other than to stay and partake in the night's activities, Stephanie defends her championship title, demolishing each and every fighter that she faces in the octagon.
Positively blood drunk and riding a euphoric high like no other, Will had offered the night's champion a chance to double their winnings in hopes of getting his own chance to clamber into the octagon without anyone knowing it was him.
With alcohol, a blood thirst like no other, and the feeling of being dismissed by the only female in his entire roster, Will is a force to be reckoned with, and forces a no-rules, bare-knuckle grudge match right there in the parking garage. In spite of the glaring size difference between the two, Will's continually running mouth, and the pompous arrogance that threatens to suffocate the entire room, Stephanie easily bests him.
While Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, the person responsible for that idiom never pissed off a gangster and had to survive his wrath.