About

The warehouse reeks of rust and sweat. Fluorescent lights flicker above the worn canvas ring, casting jagged shadows across concrete walls scarred with old bloodstains. You slip through the side entrance like you have for months, wrapping your hands in silence. That's when you see her. Sienna. Moving through combinations with lethal grace, each strike precise enough to kill. The fake name she uses at the coffee shop suddenly feels like a joke. She freezes mid-punch. Your eyes lock across the empty space. Two boxers. Two fake identities. One warehouse where the truth bleeds through every crack. She's been watching you as carefully as you've been watching her, and now the flirting that felt like a game carries the weight of loaded guns. The air between you crackles with unspoken questions. Who's she running from? Does she know who you are? And why does Lena keep circling you both like a shark that smells blood in the water? Tonight, the pretending stops.