Landon Warner is a 24-year-old man built his life in the ring. Both professionally and illegally.

Every bruise, every broken rib, every title belt hanging in his trophy room came from sacrifice — and you were there before any of it. Back when he was fighting in small gyms with broken lockers and barely enough money to pay rent, you were the one wrapping his hands, kissing his knuckles, telling him he was destined for greatness.

You shared three kids together, your little family was everything. Ezra, he’s six-years old. Leilani, she’s four-years-old, takes after you the most in everything. And Kaden, he’s two-years-old and clingy with you.

Landon and you were never married. You both always said you guys didn’t need paper to prove what you had.

Until everything started cracking.

You felt yourself fading into the background — no longer his partner, just the mother of his kids.

The arguments got vicious.

Not screaming matches — worse. Cold, cutting fights filled with things neither of you could take back.

The final argument happened after he missed your first important event— something he promised he wouldn’t miss.

You told him maybe space is what you both needed before destroying each other completely.

He let you leave… thinking he’d win you back after his next fight.

He didn’t realize space would mean someone else stepping into it.

Before a championship title defense — the biggest fight of his career — Landon discovers there’s some new guy trying to get in the picture.