Meeting Her

Kane stood beside his sleek black McLaren, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he flicked his cigar to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot. The night was thick with tension, but it wasn't from the fight. It was from the blonde currently kneeling in front of him, her hands resting on his thighs as she worked him over with practiced ease.

He should have been feeling something.

Pleasure. Satisfaction. A hint of release.

But instead, he felt nothing.

Her mouth was warm, wet, eager—but there was no fire in it. No spark. No real connection. Just another woman desperate to say she had been with Kane Shawn. The underground champion. The undefeated god of the ring.

He reached down, fingers wrapping around her wrist, pulling her away. "That's enough."

She blinked up at him, confusion flashing in her overly mascaraed eyes. "What's wrong, baby?" she cooed, tilting her head, her voice laced with manufactured sweetness.

It sickened him.

"Just go," he said, his voice cold and final reaching into his car and handing her wards of cash .

The fake sweetness dropped from her expression, replaced by irritation as she pushed herself up, brushing dust off her short dress and collecting the money . "Whatever baby ," she scoffed, rolling her eyes before stalking off.

Kane exhaled harshly, rubbing a hand down his face.

This was getting old. The meaningless sex, the empty nights, the constant rotation of women who wanted nothing more than to say they had been with him. It was all so damn empty.

His decision was already made. This was his last week in the underground ring. After this, he was done. No more brutal fights in secret venues. No more illegal bets placed on his name. No more blood spilling beneath his fists.

His software company had already skyrocketed into the top fifty in the world—he had more money than he could ever spend. He didn't need this life anymore.

He took a deep breath and reached into his car, grabbing his signature cologne and spraying a few pumps onto his hoodie before pulling it up. Time to go inside.

The hallway leading into the underground venue was dimly lit, the low hum of conversation and distant laughter filling the space. Kane walked with slow, deliberate steps, his sharp gaze scanning the area.

Sebastian, the ever-imposing security guard, spotted him first, flashing a rare grin.

"The champ is here," he greeted, shaking Kane's hand with a firm grip.

Kane smirked but said nothing, nodding once before turning his attention to the side. He had barely glanced at the ticket booth before, assuming the new girl was just another faceless employee. But then—

A flash of red.

His steps slowed as his gaze locked onto her.

She was bending down, fumbling with something behind the counter, and when she finally stood up, Kane's breath caught for the first time in a long time.

Thick, wild curls the color of fire spilled down her back, untamed and mesmerizing. Her skin was porcelain, soft-looking, with a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks—like constellations scattered across a pale sky. And then her eyes...

Fuck.

Big, brown , innocent. Wide with curiosity and slight nervousness as she looked up at him.

His lips curled at the sight of her. Well, this just got interesting.

"Uh... h-hi. Welcome." Her voice was soft, sweet, laced with nerves. "Uhm, can I have your ticket?"

Kane raised a brow, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "Ticket?" he repeated, his voice deep, teasing.

The redhead—Mona, according to her name tag—bit down on her plump lower lip, her gaze darting everywhere except at him. "Sorry, it's just... you look familiar."

That made him chuckle. Oh, really?

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering to the large poster plastered beside her booth—a giant picture of himself, fists raised, the underground champion.

He watched her follow his gaze, her brown eyes widening comically when she finally registered who he was.

"Oh my God," she breathed, glancing between him and the poster at least ten times, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "I—I'm so sorry! I had no idea—"

"It's fine, little one," he murmured, the nickname slipping from his lips naturally.

She was small, compared to him. Tiny, really. Probably barely reached his chest.

Mona let out a nervous laugh, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "You, uh... you look better in person," she blurted out before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened in horror. "I mean! Not that you don't look good in the picture! Just, uh... yeah. You're really... um... handsome."

Kane laughed.

A deep, genuine laugh.

His heart did something funny in his chest.

This was different. Most women acted composed , confident and calculated, knowing exactly what to say to get his attention. But Mona? She was pure. Flustered. Adorable in a way he hadn't encountered in a long time.

He leaned forward slightly, glancing at her name tag. "Mona."

She winced. "Yep. That's me."

Still grinning, he leaned against the counter, watching her closely. "So, Mona," he drawled, "how does it feel to watch men beat the shit out of each other for a living?"

" extremely weird I guess it's my first night " Her mouth dropped open slightly, before she quickly covered it with both hands.

Kane smirked. "I like honesty."

She peeked up at him through her fingers before finally lowering her hands, her face still burning. "Okay, well... do you like fighting?"

His smile faded slightly.

Did he? He used to. He used to love it. But now?

"I like winning," he admitted.

She tilted her head, studying him. "Not the same thing," she said softly.

Something about her quiet observation made his chest tighten.

Damn.

Kane had spent years surrounded by women who wanted to sleep with him, fighters who wanted to be him, and men who wanted to beat him. And then here was this shy, nervous little redhead, standing in front of him, completely unaware of the way she had just captured his attention.

"You know what?" He suddenly grinned. "I'll be done by the time your shift ends. Let's get drinks. My treat."

Mona blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Wait, what?"

"You. Me. Drinks."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Are you... sure?"

Kane's grin widened. Does she not know what she looks like? She was like something out of a fairytale. All doe-eyed and innocent, completely unaware of how enticing she was.

"I'm very sure, princess."

Mona stared at him for a moment, chewing on her lip again. Finally, she gave a shy nod. "Okay. I'll meet you here after my shift."

"Good."

As he turned to walk inside, he heard her small voice behind him. "Wait... what's your name?"

He glanced back over his shoulder, flashing her his signature smirk.

"Kane."

And with that, he walked inside, his mind occupied by a certain redhead.