The crowd moved as one organism toward the locker room, Marcus Bennett still gripping Alexander's arm like he'd already proven guilt, the other three accomplices flanking them with expressions of vindictive satisfaction."This is it!" Marcus declared to the growing audience. "Everyone's about to see what this nobody really is! A THIEF! Just like we said!""You haven't proven anything yet," someone in the crowd pointed out."We will," Marcus insisted. "The stopwatch is either in his locker or hidden somewhere nearby. Either way, he's DONE!"They reached Alexander's locker—number 47. The same one that had contained a dead rat on his first day."Open it," Marcus commanded. "Show everyone you've got nothing to hide.""I already told you I don't have anything," Alexander said, but he entered his combination anyway. The locker door swung open.Inside: workout clothes. A spare towel. A protein shake. Some training gear.No stopwatch.Marcus's confident expression flickered. "It's... you must

Victor Chen sat in his luxury sedan parked half a block from Vanessa Sterling's penthouse building, his phone displaying the live police scanner feed. He'd spent the entire night planning this moment, feeding information to ICE, embellishing Katarina's background with creative lies designed to ensure maximum response."Subject is potentially dangerous," he'd told the agent. "Came from a trafficking ring with ties to organized crime. May be armed. May resist violently. You'll need a tactical team."The agent had bought every word. Why wouldn't they? Victor was a respected businessman. His family had connections. His word carried weight.Now he waited, grinning like a child on Christmas morning, ready to watch Katarina be dragged out in handcuffs. Humiliated. Terrified. Destroyed.If she won't choose me, Victor thought with vicious satisfaction, she doesn't get to choose anyone. Let's see how Alexander's "protection" helps her when she's being deported to whatever hellhole she crawled o

Victor sat in his car, stunned, watching the tactical team pack up and leave. He'd seen them enter the building with weapons drawn, body armor, the full tactical response. They'd been inside for—he checked his watch—twelve minutes. Twelve minutes.And they emerged with nothing. No arrest. No Katarina. Just... leaving.That's impossible, Victor thought. They had a warrant. They had probable cause. They should be dragging her out in handcuffs right now.Agent Morrison walked past his car on her way to the command vehicle. Victor jumped out, intercepting her."Agent Morrison! What happened? Why don't you have her?"The agent looked at him with barely concealed irritation. "Mr. Chen, we conducted a thorough search of the premises. Every room. Every closet. Every possible hiding spot. Ms. Volkov is not there.""That's impossible!" Victor protested. "I KNOW she's been living there! I have documentation! Witnesses! I—""Then your documentation is wrong," Morrison interrupted coldly. "We sear

The senior trainers gathered in Dmitri's office after Alexander's victory, their faces a mixture of confusion, frustration, and grudging respect."This is a problem," the head conditioning coach said. "Howard just embarrassed Marcus Chen—one of our solid fighters—in under a minute. Made him look like a complete amateur.""So he's better than we thought," another coach said. "Isn't that a good thing?""It's a DECEPTION," the senior trainer countered. "He spent weeks pretending to be incompetent. Making us look like fools. Making our facility look weak because we couldn't teach basic techniques to a janitor-turned-trainee.""He was gathering intelligence," Dmitri said quietly. "Observing. Learning. Being smart.""He was LYING," the senior trainer insisted. "And that raises questions: What else is he lying about? Who is he really? Why is he here?""We can't dismiss him," Dmitri pointed out. "He won the stipulation match. By the terms we set, he gets to stay.""Then we find another way,"

"That's never going to happen," Ethan said with absolute certainty, waving his petition again. "I've already got signatures from important families. Real families. People who matter. And I'm getting more every day."Something in Alexander snapped. Not violently. Not dramatically. But internally—a cord of patience stretched too thin finally breaking.He stepped closer to Ethan, his fists balling at his sides, his body language shifting from tired resignation to something dangerous."Listen to me very carefully," Alexander said, his voice low and controlled. "There is nothing linking you and me. No relationship. No connection. No reason for you to be in my life at all. So I'm going to say this once: stay out of my business."Ethan actually stepped back, some primal part of his brain recognizing threat even as his ego refused to acknowledge it. But then he recovered, puffing up his chest."Or what?" Ethan challenged. "You going to hit me? Right here? In front of witnesses?" He gestured a