The Fighter Who Stole My Heart: Chapter 3

His World

It wasn’t just fighting.

It was survival. Rage. Release.

I watched from the side lines as Liam fought again. There was something brutal about the way he moved—efficient, controlled, a storm in a cage.

Afterward, he found me again.

“Still watching?” he asked.

“I can’t seem to stop.”

We sat on the hood of his car, silence stretching. He told me about his brother. About why he fights. About the anger that lives in his bones.

“No one sees me,” he said. “Not really.”

“I do,” I whispered.

And it was the first time I saw him soften.

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