Jack stops and poses for the cameras. A shiver runs down my spine as I drink in all six feet two inches of my gorgeous sadist who has been killing it in training for the last three months. His opponent, Scorpion, is in for some pain tonight. And I would know. I’m standing on my chair for a reason—and it isn’t just to cheer my man on or because I am wearing his family ring around my neck.

    “She’s back on the chair.” Amanda sighs. “Pen, don’t you remember what happened last time?”

    Yes, I do. And that first moment when I saw Jack as more than a friend is one of my fondest memories. “You think anyone is going to knock Sadist’s woman off a chair? The other fighters are terrified of him. At the weigh-in he took a step toward Scorpion, and the dude almost wet his shorts.”

    My voice trails off when Jack makes an unexpected detour that will take him right past our seats. Heart pounding, I scream his name and pump my fist in the air.

    Adrenaline shoots through me, and I get the rush I’ve been craving all day. My heart beats a little faster, my vision becomes a little clearer, my smile grows a little wider, and all my stress fades away.

    Jack stops in front of us. His gaze lingers on me. His dark eyes warm, and his scowl fades. He is Redemption’s gossip king, everyone’s best friend, all-around nice guy, fighter, sadist, and the other half of my soul. He is darkness, and he is light. His mask is gone, and the real Jack is free.

    My breath catches in my throat as he stares at me. I know that darkness. Understand it. Because beneath my pearls, pastels, and pretty clothes, I share that darkness, too.

    He reaches up and kisses me, his hand behind my neck, his lips soft on mine. Cameras swing toward us, showing close-ups on the big screens. Lights flash, the crowd cheers. He loves me. And he’s not afraid to let the world know.

    “You got the present I left for you?” he whispers.

    “Yes, I did.”

    “You wearing them?”

    “Yes. And they hurt so good.”

    “Are we gonna have some fun tonight?” He steps back and licks his lips, a predator about to feast. Or a sadist about to inflict a whole lot of pain.

    “Only if you win.”

    “I already won, darlin’. There is no better prize than you.”