I stood by the ring, wiping sweat from my brow, trying to catch my breath after what had been a brutal, cathartic session. The thudding of my pulse in my ears was still louder than the distant chatter of Kami and JR, but something else gnawed at me now. The air had shifted in the gym, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon, just waiting to break.

 

Megan was still in the ring, moving like she owned it, graceful, deadly—too deadly. She wasn’t just some fighter. There was something about the way she moved, like she had always been here, like the gym’s walls had witnessed her rise long before I even considered stepping into them.

I tried to shake off the weird vibe crawling up my spine, but then, the door. It creaked open, just a fraction, and I heard the unmistakable footsteps of my dad. My heart jumped into my throat, but I couldn’t place why. Maybe it was because I knew how much he loved this place, how he'd been here for every fight, every tournament, every moment that mattered. But this was different. This wasn’t just him coming to check on me.

 

The door swung open, and I saw his face. His expression was frozen, his body tense, as if he’d just seen a ghost. His eyes locked on Megan in the ring, and for a moment, I saw something flicker behind them—something raw. unknown.

 

Was it fear or what?

 

His reaction was quick, almost too fast. Like he was yanked out of some trance. He didn’t even look at Mom—didn’t give her the chance to step in before he slammed the door shut with more force than necessary.

 

I heard my mom’s voice outside, asking him something, but he never answered. Instead, there was a long silence. Then he did something I’d never seen him do before—he pulled the door tight, keeping her on the other side like he was trying to hide something. Or maybe someone.

 

Megan.

 

My mind raced as I stood there, still holding the ring ropes. Why had he acted like that? What was so special about her? I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the nagging suspicion grew. Dad never avoided anything, especially not Mom. He was always open about whatever business was going on, always pulling her into the loop, making sure she knew.

 

But not this time.

 

Megan. Her smug smile. The way she didn’t flinch when my father locked eyes with her. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen a smile like that—Vanity wore that same expression when she was feeling smug, when she had control.

 

I tried to think back to when I had first met Megan. She was JR's mom, sure, but even now, there was something off. Something unsettling. Why hadn't I ever questioned why she of all people had been so involved in training me and was so eager to come to our gym? JR’s a good guy, but... his mom?

 

No. I shook my head. I was missing something here. This wasn’t just about a mom cheering her kid on in the ring. This felt like a warning. A red flag waved in front of me.

I glanced over at the photo on the wall—the one of my parents and Gyon, standing beside Johnny Hawke. Someone had shot him through the forehead, leaving a hole as wide as the truth I was desperately trying to avoid. That same chilling thought crept back into my head: Megan knew who did it.

 

Her chuckle, under her breath, almost went unnoticed in the gym's quiet hum. But I heard it—clear as day. It was the same sound I’d heard echo in the back of my mind, just before Vanity took over.

 

I turned back to the door. Why did Dad pull it shut like that?

 

Did he know something about Megan I didn’t? Had he seen something in her that made him recognize her in a way no one else did? Maybe he had a history with her—something he couldn’t bear Mom knowing. Or worse… Could she be connected to Dominic? His sick grin flashing in my mind made my stomach churn. That same twisted force, lurking under the surface, threatening everything I thought I understood.

 

And if she was tied to Dominic, to the Mikaelsons, why had my father never told me? He was supposed to protect us—especially from things like this. Yet here he was, afraid to even talk to Mom about it.

 

I glanced back at Megan again, still in the ring, still completely at ease. Like she knew something I didn’t. Like she was testing me, waiting to see how long it would take before I figured it out. But there was something worse than her cocky grin. It was that feeling in my gut—the one telling me she was only here for one reason: to take something from me.

 

And my father was trying to hide it.