The underground fight club was hidden beneath an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, accessible only through a rusted metal door guarded by two massive bouncers. The air down here was thick with sweat, blood, and raw lust. Dim red lights illuminated a chain-link octagon cage in the center of the concrete floor, surrounded by roaring spectators, a mix of rough fighters, wealthy gamblers, and hungry onlookers who came for the violence and the even filthier aftermath.

Tonight’s main event drew an especially savage crowd.

**Roxy Kane** strutted into the locker room like she already owned the place. She was 24, cocky as hell, and built like a...