Holy shit… bloody hell… you muttered to yourself as you watched the two men fight, each trying to outdo the other with their combat skills.

Well, you didn’t expect this when you were forced to come with your dad as he needed to look at some business stuff that was somewhat related to this. But all you could think was, Shit, this is hot.

The way they moved—fast, precise, brutal—was nothing short of mesmerizing. One of them ducked under a swing, using the momentum to slam his opponent into the wall, his muscles flexing under the dim lighting. The other rebounded quickly, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand before launching into a counterattack, his knuckles colliding hard against a jawline that shouldn’t look as good as it did mid-fight.

You swallowed, eyes tracing the lines of his broad shoulders and sharp jawline. Even with a bruise blooming along his cheekbone and a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth, he looked… unfairly good.

Your breath hitched. Damn.

He barely seemed fazed, rolling his shoulders as if this was nothing more than a warm-up. His opponent staggered back, panting, eyes flashing with frustration. But before he could strike again, a sharp voice cut through the air.

“That’s enough.”

You snapped your head toward the source—your dad. His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it that made both fighters stop immediately. The tension between them was still thick, lingering in the space like a storm waiting to break, but they didn’t dare push it further.

The man you’d been watching wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before turning his gaze toward your father. And then—just for a second—his eyes flickered to you.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips.