Chapter 3

Before long, Chloe came strutting down the stairs.

She had swapped her casual clothes for a tight designer athleisure set, wearing the smirk of a victor.

"How does it feel, Cole? I honestly think this role suits you. At least you won't be dealing with all the violent brawling."

She leaned against the doorway, raising her voice just enough for the watching parents to hear.

I ignored her, bending down to brush the mat dust off a little boy who had tripped over his own feet.

Her smile thinned. She crossed her arms and stepped closer.

"I'm talking to you. Chad told me that as long as you keep your head down and stay in your lane, he'll give you a generous bonus at the end of the year."

"Tell him thank you for his charity," I said evenly, standing back up.

"What is that attitude?" Chloe's voice spiked.

"Cole, I'm throwing you a lifeline here."

"Don't think I don't know what's going on in your head. You think you can rally the veteran coaches and fighters to start a mutiny?"

"Let me tell you right now: it won't work. People follow the person who signs their paychecks."

"And right now, Chad and I are the ones paying them."

I looked at her, suddenly finding the whole scene almost comical.

"Chloe, do you actually know anything about this gym?"

"Do you know how many nights Mack stayed up on these mats, fixing a fighter's hook inch by inch?"

"You don't know a single thing."

A father standing by the door waiting for his kid frowned, whispering to the mom next to him:

"Who is this woman? She clearly doesn't know combat sports. Her attitude is gross."

It was quiet, but Chloe caught every single syllable.

Her face flushed crimson, her lips quivering as her voice screeched:

"All I need to know is that it makes money and funds a better lifestyle for me!"

"Instead of rotting away with you, choking on sweat and eating cheap greasy takeout every damn day!"

The surrounding parents turned to glare at her with disgust.

"Are you done? If you're done, please leave. You're disrupting my class," I said coolly.

Her face went from red to white. She hadn't expected this level of indifference.

She gritted her teeth and spun on her heels.

I knew those words would completely trigger her and Chad. They would escalate their moves against me.

Which was exactly what I was waiting for.

That afternoon, Max, the accountant, slipped into the locker room, trembling.

"Coach Cole, we've got a major problem."

"Chad just ordered me to transfer all the gym's liquid operating capital into his personal account."

My stomach tightened. "How much?"

"Almost everything. There's barely ten grand left in the emergency fund," Max's voice shook. "And I saw the draft of the new coaching contracts from legal. They slashed the base salary by sixty percent."

"They tied everything to impossible performance commissions, loaded with predatory penalty clauses."

"Max, take a deep breath." I gripped his shoulders, looking into his eyes.

"I need your help. Every wire transfer slip, every contract draft, and every single illegal order he gives you..."

"Take photos with your phone and send them to my private email. Keep it quiet. Don't get caught."

Earlier that afternoon, Chad had left his office door cracked open. Walking past, I heard him bragging on speakerphone about his stock returns.

To read off his brokerage credentials, he had lowered his voice, but my hearing was razor-sharp.

Fighters develop reflexes through muscle; listening is an instinct.

I caught the last few digits. That night, cross-referencing with the birthday sticky note stuck to his desk monitor, I unlocked his terminal on the third try.

The screen lit up.

Stock charting software icons covered his desktop.

I checked his browser history, pulled up the cached login for his trading account, and saw the credentials autosaved.

The second my finger clicked the mouse, my palms broke into a cold sweat.

The missing five hundred thousand dollars was sitting right in his realized loss column. In just two days, he had gambled away nearly one hundred and seventy thousand dollars.

I downloaded every transaction record, order sheet, and balance statement, encrypted the zip file, and sent it to my private server.

Once it cleared, I reset his desktop exactly as I found it and vanished into the shadows.