"Anytime you're ready, my love," Alex murmured, pressing a slow kiss to my temple before stepping out of the ring.
The sand shifting as he dropped down, leaving Joshua and I.
But I didn't move at first. I simply looked at him. Like I was looking at the ghost of my tragic past. He was supposed to be my best friend. My constant. Now, I couldn't help but feel nothing but rage for him.
That sandy blond hair, darkened with sweat. Bare torso streaked with bruises in varying shades of purple and yellow. He was thinner than I remembered, lean in a way that spoke of deprivation, not discipline.
But none of that held my attention.
My eyes locked onto the scar on his shoulder. The one I gave him. The bullet I planted there with my own hand, all those years ago.
He followed my gaze, thinking I must've been worried for him as he let out a ragged breath that might have been a laugh.
"I knew this would happen," Joshua bit out, his voice hoarse but still defiant. "I told your grandfather this mission was madness. And look at you now, Sol." His lip curled. "Your boyfriend's manipulating you. Just like he did back then. He's the reason you were hurt. The reason you lost your memories."
The world narrowed.
I didn't think.
My fist connected with his jaw.
The crack echoed loud against the concrete walls as he hit the sand hard, rolling to his side, clutching his face.
The arena fell silent.
I stepped back into stance automatically, feet grounded, shoulders loose, breath steady.
"Right," I said evenly, flexing my fingers once. "I suppose I forgot to mention something."
He pushed himself onto his elbows, blood at the corner of his mouth.
I moved before he could rise fully and straddled him, driving him flat against the sand as my fist came down again.
"I remember everything now, Joshua."
Another punch.
His head snapping to the side.
"I remember how you betrayed me."
Another.
Sand kicked up with the force of it.
"I remember how you gave them my location."
My knuckles split, but I didn't feel it.
"You brought armed men into our home—"
My voice cracked for the first time.
"—knowing I was pregnant."
The last word tore out of me.
The room remained utterly silent.
Joshua didn't strike back, even as I raised my fist again.
Instead, he moved. Not to hurt me, but to stop me.
He twisted sharply, his body rolling with trained efficiency, his forearm hooking around my waist as he used my forward momentum against me. The world filled in a rush of sand and heat. And before I knew it, I was already on my back.
The impact knocked the air out of my lungs.
He hovered over me, pinning my wrist but didn't trap me fully.
"I won't fight you," he rasped, his voice breaking in a way I had never heard before. "Do you hear me? I won't."
"Get off me!" I snarled, shoving at him.
He released me immediately, backing away as if burned.
"I won't raise a hand against you, Sol," he shouted now, anguish tearing through the defiance. "Not after what I've done. Not after—"
I kicked him. Hard.
My heel caught his ribs and he grunted, stumbling sideways into the sand.
"Don't call me that!" I lunged again, swinging.
This time, he blocked it. Not to retaliate, but only to shield himself. He caught my wrist, redirected the blow and stepped back.
I struck again. And again.
Each time he deflected.
"I deserve this," he choked out just as another punch glanced off his shoulder. "Every bit of it. So go on, hit me."
"You deserve worse!" I screamed.
I drove forward, forcing him back across the ring, sand spraying beneath our feet.
"I should kill you," I said, breath ragged, vision blurring with fury and memory. "I should end this. Right here."
He stopped retreating. No, he simply stood there like a fool. His chest rising, bruised and open as he spread his arms slightly.
"Then do it."
The words were quiet. Steady.
"Kill me."
The arena felt like it had lost oxygen.
"I loved you," he said, his voice cracking but his eyes never left mine. "I still do."
My hand trembled.
"It would be a blessing," he continued softly. "To die by your hands."
The silence pressed in harder.
"After what I took from you...what I destroyed...if this is how it ends—"
He stepped closer.
And in that suspended stretch of silence, when the entire arena seemed to hold its breath with us, I heard it. The subtle shift in the darkness beyond the ring. The faint drag of leather against fabric. The unmistakable metallic click of a safety being released.
The gunshot, tearing through the air like lightning splitting across the sky.
Joshua's body jerked violently, the sound of bullet hitting his flesh, dull and final. For a fractured second, he remained upright, those eyes wide, lips parted as if he still meant to say something to me. Something I would never hear.
Then his head erupted in a violent spray of red, before he fell forward into the sand at my feet. The thud of his body hitting the ground felt louder than the shot itself.
Blood seeped slowly into the sane, dark and spreading, soaking into the earth of the ring. The silence that followed was suffocating, but I didn't turn immediately. I didn't have to. I already knew who pulled the trigger.
Alex stood at the edge of the ring, his arm extended with unwavering precision. The faint curl of smoke rising from the barrel of the gun in his hand. His expression was not furious. Not even particularly intense. No, it was measured. Detached.
He lowered the weapon and handed it back to one of his men without sparing Joshua another glance.
"That's enough," he said evenly, his voice carrying across the arena with quiet authority. "This is no longer interesting."
His boots pressing into the sand as he climbed back into the ring, stepping over Joshua's body without hesitation. The crowd remained silent. No one dared to move, nor speak.
His eyes found mine instantly.
They softened, but only for me.
He approached slowly, his gaze scanning over my face, my arms, my posture, taking me in. There was something possessive in the way he looked at me now. Not some mere jealousy, and frankly, I was growing tired of it.
His hand lifted, fingers reaching toward my cheek, then my waist, ready to draw me into him the way he always did.
I stepped back before he could touch me.
His fingers closed around empty air.
For the first time since the gunshot, something flickered across his expression. Not regret, not even doubt. Displeasure.
The sand shifted beneath my bare feet as I turned away from him.
I didn't look down at Joshua's body. I didn't allow myself to register the stillness of him, the finality of what had just happened. I didn't even look at my husband either.
I was just too exhausted from all these emotions.
So I stepped out of the ring without a word.
All his men remained frozen in silence, as I left their boss standing there, inside the circle of blood and sand beside the man he had just executed in front of me. His dominance was unquestioned. His authority absolute.
And yet, I was the one walking away.