Chapter 4 The Ring Test

Valerie Point of View

“Get in.”

Damian walked to the steel ring in the middle of the gym. He didn’t take off his shirt or wrap his hands. He just slid between the ropes, turned around, and stood in the center with his hands on his hips.

Around us the sound of punching bags and shoes on the floor slowly stopped. Every fighter froze. The whole place went quiet as every eye turned toward the middle ring.

I dropped my bag, pulled off my jacket, and kicked off my shoes. My knees still ached from the metal stairs the night before, and my ribs hurt every time I took a deep breath, but none of it mattered. The anger from the alley, from Roxanne’s smile, and from the yellow paper on my father’s desk was still burning inside me.

I slipped under the ropes and stepped into the ring.

“No gloves,” Damian said, his blue eyes steady on mine. “No referee. If you fall or step out of the ropes, you lose. Show me what you can do, Valerie.”

“You’re going to be sorry for this, Dubois,” I said through my teeth as I dropped into the strong fighting stance my father had taught me years ago.

Damian didn’t even raise his hands. He just stood there like a wall, watching my feet.

“Move.”

I charged straight at him with a hard takedown, putting every bit of my weight and anger behind it. In my head I already saw him on his back with my arm locked around his neck, that calm look wiped right off his face.

The second I got close, Damian moved. His hips dropped hard onto my shoulders and stopped me cold, like a wall falling on me. My face hit the mat and all the air left my body in one big rush. But before I could recover, his hand clamped the back of my neck and pressed my cheek flat against the rough floor.

“Rule one,” he said near my ear, voice calm and quiet. “Never run at someone when you’re full of anger. You lost your balance three steps before you even reached me.”

He let go and stepped back.

Shame burned hot across my face. I pushed myself up and wiped sweat and dirt from my chin. The other fighters just stood and watched. No one laughed. No one said a word.

“Again,” I said, lifting my fists to protect my jaw.

I circled left, testing the distance, my shoes making soft sounds on the mat. Damian moved with me easily, hands still low, eyes fixed on my shoulders.

I faked a right punch, then threw a hard left at his ribs... the same move that had won me three big fights before. He saw it coming. He stepped back just enough for my right hand to cut empty air, then locked an iron grip on my left wrist. Before I could pull free he stepped in and drove his shoulder hard into my chest.

I flew backward. My back hit the soft corner pad so hard the ropes shook.

“Wild,” Damian said, already walking back to the center. “Easy to read. You fight like an angry kid in the street, Valerie. Roxanne didn’t just set you up last night… she broke your mind.”

Something inside me snapped!

I stopped thinking and charged again, throwing hard punches left and right, trying to break through with pure strength. Damian didn’t even hit back. He blocked every punch with open hands and stepped to the side again and again. Every swing hit only air. My lungs burned. My arms grew heavy. The pain in my knees got worse with every step.

“Is this the champion your father trained?” he asked in a quiet voice. “Is this the fighter who will save your family’s gym?”

“Don’t talk about my father!” I gasped, and threw one last hard right with everything I had left.

Damian caught my arm, ducked under, and swept my feet out from under me in one smooth move.

The floor tilted.

BANG!

My body hit the mat hard. My teeth shook and the last of my air left as the bright lights above turned into white lines. I lay there staring at the dark ceiling, unable to move.

Damian stood over me and looked down. He wasn’t even breathing hard. His shirt was still neat and his hair still perfect, but he had beaten me in less than three minutes without throwing a single punch!

“You lost,” he said quietly. “Your moves are messy because your feelings control you. In my ring, anger is a poison that can get you hurt badly.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as tears of pure frustration burned behind them. I dug my fingers into the mat, trying to force my arms to push me up, but my muscles refused to work.

“Get up.”

“I… can’t,” I said, my voice rough.

“Then leave.” He turned his back and walked toward the ropes. “Go back to your father’s office, give the keys to Harrison Sterling, and let him tear your gym down. Because if you step into a real fight with this kind of mind, you won’t just lose… you’ll end up in a wheelchair right next to your sister.”

Those words hit harder than anything he had done in the ring.

I saw Sofia’s back brace. I saw my father’s tired red eyes. I saw the yellow paper on the desk that said we could lose everything.

A cold clear feeling cut through the anger. The rage didn’t go away. It just became colder and sharper.

“Wait!.”

Damian stopped at the ropes, his hand resting on the top rope. He didn’t turn around, but he stopped.

Slowly, with great effort, I pulled my knees under me. My arms shook hard as I pushed myself up. I fell back onto one knee, then forced my boots under me and finally stood upright on shaking legs. I wiped blood from my lip with the back of my hand and raised my fists again.

“I’m still on my feet,” I said between hard breaths. “I didn’t step out of the ropes. And I’m not leaving.”

Damian stood still for three long seconds. Then he turned around.

His blue eyes moved over my bloody lip, my shaking legs, and the stubborn fire still burning in my eyes. For the first time since I walked into The Crucible, the cold look on his face changed. The corner of his mouth lifted just a little... a small, sharp almost-smile.

“Tomorrow morning. Four o’clock,” he said as he stepped out of the ring. “Bring your bag. You live here now.” Then he walked away without looking back.

I stayed alone in the center of the ring, chest rising and falling hard, legs shaking, the taste of blood and floor dust thick in my mouth. Every part of me hurt. Every exchange had gone his way.

But I was still standing.

And for the first time since they took my title, the sadness on my chest felt a little lighter.