CHAPTER FOUR

It was already 8:40 p.m. when I woke up.

I could still feel tears in my eyes. I had thought I'd feel relieved after running away from home, but instead, a strange heaviness settled in my chest.

Everything felt unfamiliar now. The silence, the room, the fact that I was truly on my own.

I wasn't regretting my decision. I was just scared of what might come next.

 “You're not spending your first night in Italy staring at my ceiling.”

Kayla stood at the bedroom doorway, already dressed.

I laughed from where I was lying on the bed.

“I just got here.”

“Exactly. Which means we have to go out.”

“Go where?”

“Somewhere.”

“That is not a location.”

“It doesn't need to be”

She disappeared before I could argue.

A little while later, we were walking through the streets.

The city felt different after dark.

Restaurants spilled warm light onto the sidewalks. Music drifted from open doors. People crowded around tiny tables, talking loudly over one another and laughing as though they had nowhere else they needed to be.

I found myself smiling without realizing it.

“You're staring,” Kayla said.

“At what?”

“Everything.”

I looked around.

“I can't help it.”

She bumped her shoulder against mine.

“Give it a week. You'll be complaining about tourists blocking the sidewalks like the rest of us.”

“I don't think I'll ever get tired of this.”

Kayla smiled.

“That’s what I said too.”

We kept walking until her phone buzzed.

She glanced at the screen, and her expression changed.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“Kayla.”

She sighed.

“Chiara says the fights are tonight.”

“The fights?”

“Boxing”

My eyebrows lifted.

“You didn't tell me about those.”

“I wasn't going to.”

“Why?”

“Because you've been here for five minutes, I don’t want to drag you somewhere you might hate.”

“I wouldn't hate it.”

“You don't even know what it is.”

“Neither did you until you moved here.”

She stared at me.

“Fine. It’s not exactly a regular boxing event. They bring in a fighter, announce the money, and anyone who thinks they can beat him can step up and take the challenge.”

“Anyone?”

“Pretty much. You put your name down, they decide if you're fit to fight, and if you win, you take the money.”

She shrugged.

“It gets wild sometimes. People get carried away. There can be blood, broken noses… but that's part of what keeps people coming back.”

“That sounds…”

“Terrible?”

 “Interesting.”

She studied me.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Absolutely.”

Her smile slowly widened.

“Okay, then.”

She typed a quick reply.

“Let's go.”

Kayla had insisted I change before we left.

“You're in Italy,” she'd said, throwing a black dress onto the bed. “You are legally required to wear something your mother would disapprove of.”

I laughed, but I'd put it on anyway.

The dress was simple—short, black, and fitted without being uncomfortable. I paired it with ankle boots and left my hair loose over my shoulders. Kayla looked me up and down.

“See? You're alive.”

“Barely.”

*

The warehouse was already packed when we arrived.

Inside, everything was different from the polished events I'd grown up attending.

No chandeliers. No elegant entrances.

Just noise.

Heat.

Sweat.

Music.

The ring sat in the center of the warehouse beneath hanging lights, surrounded by a crowd that seemed to feed off the violence. In one corner, a group of intimidating men sat together, watching the ring with quiet authority. They looked like the kind of men who had money—and weren't afraid to use it.

Kayla leaned toward me.

“Tonight's winner gets two thousand.”

“Dollars?”

She nodded.

“Cash?”

“Cash.”

I stared at her.

“People actually bet on this?”

She grinned.

“Welcome to Italy.”

The undercard fights came and went.

Then the music changed.

The crowd erupted.

Kayla leaned toward me.

“Main event.”

The MC stepped into the ring, his words carrying a thick Italian accent.

“Ladies and gentlemen!”

The warehouse shook with cheers.

“Tonight, we've got one of the toughest fighters in Naples…”

He turned toward the entrance.

“ANTONIO!”

A massive man emerged.

Antonio was huge—broad shoulders, thick arms, the kind of body built through years of fighting rather than a gym membership. He climbed into the ring and raised his arms.

The crowd went wild.

I laughed.

“Subtle.”

Kayla snorted.

“He's terrifying.”

Then the MC raised his microphone.

“And his opponent…”

The crowd exploded before he even finished.

“LEO!”

The reaction was different.

Louder.

Sharper.

People pushed forward. Phones appeared above heads.

Then he walked out.

I forgot to breathe.

Leo wasn't built like Antonio.

He was leaner, defined rather than massive. His body looked trained for movement—strength without unnecessary bulk.

His black hair was slightly messy, falling over his forehead.

But it was his face that caught me. And then his eyes. Dark. Focused. Calm.

He didn't look at the crowd. He didn't acknowledge the shouting.

He simply looked at the ring as though he'd already decided how the night would end. There was something dangerous about that calm.

He climbed into the ring.

No flexing.

No showmanship.

Just focus.

“He's…” I started.

Kayla looked at me.

“He's what?”

I cleared my throat.

“Nothing.”

She smiled.

“Oh, you're staring.”

“I'm not.”

“You absolutely are.”

I rolled my eyes.

But I looked back anyway.

Leo was probably the most beautiful man I'd ever seen in person. Not handsome in the safe, polished way Justin was.

Leo was something else.

Sharp.

Immediate.

The kind of attractive that made you notice before you had time to decide whether you wanted to.

Then, for one brief second, his eyes moved across the crowd.

They passed over me.

I froze. Probably coincidence. Probably nothing.

Still, my stomach tightened.

The bell rang.

Leo moved.

And suddenly, I forgot about everything else.