Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 212

She tilted her head. “You talk that slow in every conversation? You might want to stop letting people hit you in the head.”

A few chuckles from the sidelines. The man’s grin faltered.

“Guess you’re first,” she said, stepping forward. “Let’s go.”

He looked toward the others like he wanted permission, then shrugged and climbed onto the mat. “Your funeral.”

Lola bounced on her heels once, rolling her neck. “Awe, that’s cute.”

The bell hadn’t even rung before she moved–fast, clean, no hesitation. One feint, one pivot, and her elbow met his jaw with a crack that silenced half the gym. He went down like a dropped dumbbell.

She exhaled, shaking out her hands. “Next.”

Thing 1 was already taking pictures. Thing 2 muttered, “Yeah, Enzo’s gonna kill us.”

She smiled without looking back. “Don’t worry, he’s going to be just fine.”

The next fighter stepped up, smirking like he’d learned nothing. She grinned wider. Good.

The gym was chaos. Heavy bags swinging, gloves slapping, men yelling bets over each other. And in the center of it, her.

By the time the third man hit the floor, the noise was deafening. Sweat gleamed on her shoulders, her braid stuck to her neck, her knuckles burned. She didn’t care. It felt good–god, it felt good.

“Get her, Mendez!” someone hollered.

Lola threw a hand up, mock–cheering. “Yeah, Mendez! You got this, big fella! Show me what all that protein powder paid for!”

Laughter ripped through the crowd. The fighter snarled and charged. She sidestepped, caught his arm, and used his own weight to slam him flat on his back. The thud rattled the ropes.

“Next!” she barked, grinning, hair wild.

Two more climbed in. One smirked, wiping his mouth. “Careful, sweetheart. We wouldn’t wanna break you.”

She tilted her head, voice dripping sugar. “Oh, honey. Sweetie. Aww. You two couldn’t come close even on your best day.”

That did it. They came at her like a storm. She ducked under one punch, rammed her shoulder into the other’s gut, and snapped her knee up hard enough to fold him. The first guy lunged again she pivoted, caught him by the collar, and head–butted him square on. The crack echoed. He staggered, eyes rolling, and she swept his legs out from under him.

The crowd lost its mind. Money waved in fists, phones filming, men yelling over each other. Thing 1 and Thing 2 had their cameras up, muttering, “Enzo’s gonna kill us,” while still recording every second.

Another fighter tried to grab her from behind. She twisted, dropped her weight, and choked him out in a clean lock until his hand slapped

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11:29 Thu, Oct 9

Chapter 212

the mat. She released him, shoved to her feet, and shouted over the roar, “I thought this was training! Somebody give me a real one before I die of boredom!”

Laughter. Whistles, Chaos. She was glowing, bloody lip, bruised cheek, eyes bright with adrenaline. This wasn’t rage anymore; it was

release.

Rafael hadn’t made a sound coming in, but she felt him before she saw him like the air itself got heavier.

When she finally turned, he was leaning on the ropes, arms crossed, that quiet, assessing smile curving his mouth. The kind that said he’d been watching for a while.

She spat blood into a towel, wiped her mouth, and met his gaze head–on.

“‘Bout time,” she said, voice rough with adrenaline. “I got bored waiting. Sorry.”

She wasn’t sorry.

Rafael’s eyes flicked from the men still sprawled on the mat to her split lip, to the grin she couldn’t wipe off. For a long beat, he just stared; something sharp, almost delighted, flickering there.

Then he smiled. Slow. Dangerous.

“Finally,” he said, eyes bright with something like spark–lit respect. “I’ve been waiting to meet this version of you.”

Her grin widened, all teeth and mischief. “Careful what you wish for.”

“I’m not worried,” he said. “I like demons. They keep the work interesting.”

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