The taste of blood filled my mouth even before I hit the ground.
My opponent's elbow slammed into my ribs, and I stumbled backwards, almost blinded by sweat. The audience surrounding the fighting ring roared—a sound that was hungry, brutal, and deafening. My lungs burned, begging for air. My vision narrowed.
But I refused to fall.
I punched him hard in the stomach, spun around, and brought my knee crashing into his jaw.
He collapsed face-first onto the mat, bloody and twitching.
The bell signaled the end of the round.
The Pit exploded with noise.
They chanted my stage name—"Neon Queen! Neon Queen!"—as I raised a shaky fist into the air. My body was on fire, but I was still standing. Still breathing.
Still alive.
I tried to catch my breath, wiping the blood from my lip, and searched the crowd for Gio. He was supposed to meet me after every victory, to keep me level-headed and sane. But tonight, he wasn't there.
Instead, my eyes landed on something else.
Three men dressed in dark suits. Impeccable posture. Not a bead of sweat, no drinks in hand, and no sign they were even interested in the fight. Just standing, watching intently.
And behind them, a fourth figure leaned casually against the wall.
Silver hair. Cold, piercing eyes. An air of expensive silence.
Mateo Serafino.
What on earth was he doing here?
A shiver ran down my spine.
Before I could react, the cage door swung open—but this wasn't my exit. It wasn't my handler. It wasn't the usual protocol.
One of the men in black entered the ring. "Ivy Rossi," he said, his voice as sharp as steel, "you're coming with us."
I retreated, raising my fists defensively. "I didn't throw the fight. I didn't cheat."
"You're not being arrested," he said. "You've been summoned."
"By whom?"
A shadow fell across the mat.
Mateo walked into the cage. No bodyguards, no introductions. Just him and that cold, unreadable expression.
"I don't work for free," I snapped.
His gaze didn't waver. "You're not here to work."
The crowd quieted behind us, as if the entire room sensed a change in the atmosphere.
"I don't owe you anything," I said, my voice low and dangerous.
He took a step closer.
"You do now."
I scoffed. "Are you threatening me?"
"No." He leaned in, close enough for his breath to brush against my ear. "I'm telling you your sister will die tonight—unless you come with me. Right now."
The world seemed to stop.
I froze. My stomach churned with dread. "Lena—what have you done?"
He turned away as if the conversation was already over. "Decide quickly, Ivy. One wrong move, and they'll send her back to you in pieces."
My fists dropped to my sides. My mouth was suddenly dry.
"Take her," he said, as he walked out of the cage. "She fights for me now."
Before I could scream, the guards grabbed my arms.
And just like that, I was dragged out of the cage—into a world I never wanted, bound to a man I barely knew, and caught in the middle of a war I didn't understand.
But one thing was clear: if I wanted to save my sister, I would have to play by his rules.
Even if it killed me.