"Well done, Bleeder!" Big Ben tapped me on the shoulder as he passed by. I gave a nod, pressing an ice pack against my aching jaw.

I sat on the black leather couch, leaning forward. The music from the DJ blaring all around, with purple florescent lights flashing in the dark, lit club.

My knuckles were bruised, and my jaw began to swell slightly, a contrast to the pristine black shirt and trousers I had on.

Big Ben chuckled. sitting opposite me, sipping gold liquor in a glass with ice. "Technical knockout at round 4... as planned."

I remained silent. I felt no pride in what I had done tonight. A punch to the jaw landed me on the ground. I had to stay down reluctantly through gritted teeth. But I had to just get through this, do what I need to do to get out of my debt that still loomed over me.

Big Ben turned his attention to some guy in a dark blue suit that approached him. I was glad, I couldn't bear to hear anymore upcoming rigged fights to lose.

Two bottle girls came swinging by, dressed in high fish net stockings and purple corsets, modelling in their stiletto heels. They placed two bottles of Hennessy and a bottle of vodka with assorted dashes on the glass table.

"Compliments of the club," Big Ben boomed to everyone seated on the couches. I mean, he owned the Velvet Room clubs, one in many around a few cities, including Ashfield.

"Don't mind if I do." Kyle said, seated next to me, pouring himself a drink. He offered me a half-filled glass, and I took it. I drank a gulp, and the burn of the Hennessy felt good sizzling down my throat. Waking me up from the throb on my face.

My opponent that won tonight was cocky as shit. Fuck, I hated losing, and on purpose was even worse.

I felt lost as I held my head in between my hands.

I didn't know what path I was taking in my life right now, but I fucking didn't like it! I had to get out of my dealings with Big Ben. There had to be something out there. I just knew it.

I just had to wait for it.

I downed the Hennessy. And didn't take another shot.

A group of women came sauntering up the stairs to the VIP section, fitted in tight short dresses, leaving little to the imagination. Kyle called them over and two of them came walking our way. The two women took their seats on the couch, both of them sitting in between Kyle and I.

Kyle clearly wanted the blonde next to him. I didn't give a fuck, he could've had his pick. The woman seated at my side gave me her full attention. She was slender with long brown curly hair and olive skin that reminded me of... her. The woman's brown eyes had a gleam in it I knew well. I didn't ask her name and didn't care to know. She smiled softly and touched my torso delicately with her fingers, creeping her hand up to my face guiding, mine to hers. After the shot of Hennessey and the lost fight, I didn't mind the attention.

I went closer to the woman, nuzzling my face into her neck, breathing her in. Maybe I could remember how it felt like again, being with... Lillie. But this woman's perfume was different, and it snapped me back to the harsh reality. How could I think I could replace her? Of course I couldn't replace Lillie, she was fucking irreplaceable! Thinking about her name stung, and I pulled back from the woman.

She frowned as I got up, gently removing her hand from my torso. I smiled weakly at her and walked away. In seconds, Kyle took it upon himself to comfort the woman.

I walked to the edge of the VIP balcony, feeling the vibrations in the cool iron bars between my fingers, overlooking the party goers dancing down below. Florescent lights flashed across the body of faces.

Bouncers were everywhere. Big Ben made sure security was tight, since he wasn't always the most liked man out here. He earned favors through people's fear rather than respect.

The club was packed, the two dance floors brimmed with people dancing to the beat. Including the bar, people pressed against each other, fighting for the barman's attention. I leaned forward, watching the scene before me.

My eyes roamed the people at the bar. Right at the end, a woman caught my attention. I looked at her, frowning. She seemed to stick out from the rest, and not your typical patron. She looked too sophisticated to hang out in a place like this. With auburn hair that hung in locks across her shoulders, a pencil skirt with a white shirt tucked in with black heels. She sat with her legs crossed on the bar stool overlooking the crowd with a lack of interest. Her slender fingers played with the stem of her champagne glass. She was drinking fucking champagne.

I stared at the woman, intrigued. Her eyes caught mine unexpectedly as she stared right back, the corner of her mouth etched up.

Kyle walked where I stood, bumping into me with a drink in his hand that spilled lightly on his leather jacket.

"You're missing out with these girls, man." He said, shaking his shoulders with laughter. Obviously, he drank one too many.

He placed his arm roughly around my neck and brought his face to my ear. "The blonde one says she's an expert in yoga... you know what that means." Kyle said, wiggling his eyebrows.

I shook my head and got out of his grasp, ignoring his dumb comment.

"What you're doing here?" Kyle asked, looking in the direction of the woman who was still staring up at me.

"Oh shit! She's here?" Kyle said, squinting at the woman.

My jaw tightened as Kyle recognized her. "Who's the woman?" I said, nodding down in her direction.

Kyle pulled his face into what looked like in agony. "Big Ben's not gonna like this."

"Why? Who the fuck is she?!" I demanded, glowering at Kyle.

Kyle sighed.

"She's a talent agent." He said. "She seeks fighters for the Ultimate Fighting Championship."

My eyes snapped to the mysterious woman, viewing her in a completely new light. She was still staring up at me with her arm raised, cheering with the champagne glass in the air.