Chapter 2 — Knocked Down Again
The fight resumed.
Ryan did not mock her.
He did not smile.
He fought like a professional, and that made everything worse.
He was controlled.
Precise.
Merciless without being cruel.
Emma moved, blocked, slipped, and countered when she could, but Ryan’s power kept finding her. A body shot folded her slightly. A clean strike to the ribs sent pain flashing through her side. A sweep took her legs out from under her.
She fell again.
The mat caught her hard.
This time, fewer people laughed.
Emma rolled onto one knee, breathing through clenched teeth.
The referee crouched beside her.
“Can you continue?”
Emma nodded before she could speak.
Ryan watched her carefully.
Something in his expression shifted, but only for a moment.
Then the fight went on.
Round after round, Emma was knocked down.
Each time, the fall looked heavier.
Each time, getting back up took longer.
By the third round, the gym had changed.
The spectators were no longer waiting for her to lose.
They were waiting to see whether she could stand again.
By the fourth, phones were still recording, but the laughter had disappeared.
By the fifth, even the people who came to mock her were quiet.
Ryan landed another devastating strike.
Emma crashed down near the edge of the mat.
This time, she stayed down.
Her chest rose and fell sharply. Sweat clung to her face. Her arms trembled as she tried to push herself up and failed.
A woman in the crowd covered her mouth.
Someone whispered, “Stay down.”
Not cruelly.
Gently.
Even Ryan lowered his gloves.
The referee began counting.
“One.”
Emma’s fingers curled against the mat.
“Two.”
Her elbows shook.
“Three.”
She lifted herself halfway, then collapsed again.
A few people turned away.
“Four.”
Ryan stepped closer.
“Emma,” he said, quieter this time. “Enough.”
She heard him.
She also heard something else.
A sound from the back of the gym.
Not cheering.
Not shouting.
A shaky breath.
Emma turned her head.
Behind the crowd, near the entrance, stood an elderly man.
Gray hair.
Weathered face.
Hands folded tightly around the handle of a cane.
Tears in his eyes.
Emma’s entire expression changed.
The pain was still there.
The exhaustion.
The blood.
The bruises.
But something deeper rose through all of it.
Ryan noticed.
His eyes followed hers.
“Who is he?” he asked.
Emma swallowed.
“My grandfather.”
The gym went silent.