I felt him before I saw him.
There’s a particr shift in the atmosphere when someone of true power enters a room. The air gets a little thinner, conversations drop a few decibels, and people instinctively make space without even realizing it. That’s exactly what happened at La Corona’s main arena when Ethan Haxton walked in.
Wearing a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit amid a sea of tactical gear andbat boots, he looked ridiculously out of ce yet somehow more dangerous than anyone else. A team of professional security personnel surrounded him, creating a mobile fortress of dark suits and earpieces.
“Holy shit,” Ryan muttered beside me, his eyes fixed on Ethan. “Is that who I think it is?”
I ducked behind Ryan’s broader frame, using him as a shield. Thest person I expected to see in this hellhole was Ethan fucking Haxton. What was a Wall Street titan doing at an underground mercenarypetition in Venezu?
Ethan surveyed the arena with casual interest, like he was browsing a gallery rather than watching killers prepare to tear each other apart. His gaze swept across our section, briefly locking eyes with
Ryan.
“You know who that is?” Ryan asked, turning toward me.
“Ethan Haxton,” I replied, keeping my voice deliberately t. “CEO of Haxton Industries.”
Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. “You know him?”
“Not really.”
Zach leaned forward, a smirk ying on his lips. “Then why are you hiding behind Ryan like he’s your school‘ principal?” He tilted his head to get a better look at my face.
I rolled my eyes. “Fuck off, Zach.”
Xavier chuckled, wincing slightly as the movement aggravated his injured leg. “Those guys with him.
are Transcendent Military Alliance security. They monitor La Corona, make sure things don’t get too
out of hand.”
I watched as Ethan settled into what was clearly a VIP section, Connor Haxton at his side constantly scanning the crowd. Ethan’s presence hereplicated things. I needed to understand why he was
attending La Corona before making my next move.
Three matches passed, each more brutal than thest. The crowd roared as a Brazilian fighter snapped his opponent’s arm before delivering a knockout blow. Blood spattered across the sand floor, adding to the rust–colored stains from previous fights.
Ethan appeared bored throughout, checking his watch several times. After the third match, he stood up and adjusted his cuffs, clearly having seen enough.
“I need to go take care of something,” I announced, rising from my seat. “Might not make it back to camp tonight.”
“What?” Zach snorted. “You really think you’re the boss now? Just going wherever you want?”
Ryan shot him a warning look.
“Tonight’s not going to be quiet,” Zach added, his tone somewhere between concern and challenge.
“Word is Apex is nning something.”
I shrugged. “I need to find an actual bed to sleep in. I’m not staying in those tents.”
“Princess,” Zach muttered, but there was less bite in it than usual.
I didn’t wait for furthermentary, weaving through the crowd toward the exit. Outside, the evening air provided minimal relief from the packed arena. Food vendors and weapons dealers had set up stalls, creating a bizarre carnival atmosphere.
“Miss Morgan?”
The voice came from behind me, cultured and confident. I turned slowly, feigning surprise when I
saw Ethan Haxton standing there, nked by Connor.
“Mr. Haxton,” I said, my voice deliberately neutral. “What a coincidence.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You look thinner than when Ist saw you,” he observed.
I smiled, a practiced, empty gesture. “Been working out.”
“What brings you to Venezu, Miss Morgan?” Ethan asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp with interest. “Not exactly a typical tourist destination.”
<b>9:04 </b><b>Thu</b>, Sep 18 <b>B </b>
“Cultural immersion,” I replied glibly. “I find these authentic local experiences so… educational.”
Ethan’s lips twitched with something that might have been amusement. “Indeed. Though La Corona isn’t listed in most travel guides.”
“The best experiences rarely are.”
Connor shifted his weight, eyes continuously scanning our surroundings with professional paranoia.
“Any decent ces to stay around here?” I asked casually, gesturing at the shabby buildings nearby.
“I’m staying at El Presidente Hotel in the city,” Ethan said, right on cue. “They have excellent
security and clean sheets. I’d be happy to arrange a room for you.”
“That’s very generous,” I said. “I ept.”
Fifteen minutester, I was sitting in the backseat of Ethan’s armored luxury car, watching the dusty
“So,” Ethan broke the silence, “what’s the real reason you’re in Venezu, Miss Morgan? La Corona
isn’t exactly a venue for casual sightseeing.”
My demeanor shifted, the friendly fa?ade dropping like a discarded mask. “What’s your reason for being here, Mr. Haxton? I don’t see many Wall Street executives attending underground fighting
tournaments.”
“Business and pleasure,” he replied smoothly. “I have investments in the region.”
“How convenient.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I tilted my head. “I was curious about La Corona. Wanted to see it for myself.”
“This isn’t the kind of ce travel agencies rmend,” Ethan said, studying me with renewed interest. “This is a hundred times more brutal than Olympic boxing. These people aren’t fighting for medals–they’re fighting for survival.”
“That’s exactly why I’m interested,” I said, meeting his gaze directly. “I prefer realbat to choreographed performances.”
<b>9:04 </b><b>Thu</b>, Sep 18 B
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The car swerved slightly to avoid a pothole, momentarily pressing Ethan’s shoulder against mine. He smelled expensive–sandalwood and something uniquely his own.
As the car wound through the hills, I caught sight of a sprawlingpound nestled against the mountainside, its perimeter lined with what looked like decorative fencing and observation towers.
“Wow, what’s that fancy ce?” I asked with exaggerated curiosity, pointing toward the facility. “Some kind of luxury resort? The views must be amazing from up there.”
Connor’s head jerked slightly in surprise, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the rearview mirror before
darting away.
“That?” Ethan replied without missing a beat. “That’s the Transcendent Retreat. Very exclusive vacation spot. Only the most… distinguished guests get to stay there.”
“Really? It looks incredible,” I gushed, leaning closer to the window like an excited tourist. “Do they offer tours? I’d love to see what it’s like inside.”
“I could arrange a personal tour for you,” Ethan said, his eyes glittering with amusement as he yed along. “They have quite remarkable amenities. Swimming pools, spas, exceptional security
features.”
From the front seat, Connor coughed abruptly, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. The look of absolute disbelief on his face reflected in the mirror was priceless.
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