My Family Wanted a Sacrificial Bride, They Got a Boxing Queen Chapter 06

My Family Wanted a Sacrificial Bride, They Got a Boxing Queen Chapter 06

Three days later, I packed up my three hundred pounds of iron plates and a few pairs of gloves, then moved into the Thorne estate without a second thought.

Reginald was grinning like an idiot after securing the cash injection, but the entire Stillwater elite

circle was waiting for news of my body being dumped on the curb.

The Thorne family’s private basement was legendary in social circles-rumored to be a chamber of horrors lined with torture devices, where bone-chilling impacts and screams echoed out every

night.

The women who got carried out of there came out half-dead.

On the second night after I moved in, a small, furtive figure scrambled over the estate’s wrought-iron back gate by using the trash bins as a foothold.

Cleo landed face-first in the dirt, but she didn’t bother brushing off her dress. She just headed straight for the basement with red-rimmed eyes.

“Vesper… please don’t be dead… I brought bandages and painkillers…”

She crept toward the faint light spilling from the basement ventilation grate, trembling the whole way. A massive boom shook the ground the moment she got close, followed by a muffled groan of

pain.

“Ah!”

Cleo clamped a hand over her mouth as tears spilled down her face.

Magnus was clearly beating Vesper senseless-that sound had to mean broken bones.

She forced her shaking legs to carry her forward and crouched by the grate, peeling back the slats to peer inside. One sign of real danger, and she’d call the cops.

Then Cleo’s tears froze mid-track, and her entire body went rigid.

There was no torture chamber, no restraints, no instruments of horror.

Instead, she was staring at a two-thousand-square-foot professional MMA octagon cage. Squat racks, barbells, and top-tier heavy bags lined every wall.

And inside that octagon, the scene made Cleo question everything she knew about reality.

Magnus-the man rumored to kill without blinking-was flat on his back in nothing but gym

shorts.

And Vesper, her supposedly delicate and helpless older sister, had Magnus’s right arm locked in a

textbook-perfect armbar, her legs cinched tight as she arched her hips to hyperextend the joint.

Magnus’s free hand was slapping the mat in a frantic, rapid-fire tap-out.

“Stop, stop, stop! Let go! You’re about to snap my damn arm!”

Veins bulged on his forehead as he sucked in a pained breath.

“Vesper, you asshole, we agreed on stand-up only tonight! That move’s a foul!”

“You ever heard the phrase ‘all’s fair in war,’ boss?”

I released the hold with a light snort, then kicked up into a smooth kip-up and got to my feet. I grabbed my towel off the cage and wiped down my face, then handed Magnus-still flat on his back and gasping-a freshly mixed extra-large protein shake.

“Mr. Thorne, your upper-body explosiveness is solid, but your ground game is a mess. You need

serious core work.”

I looked down at him with the authority of a head coach.

“Tomorrow morning, six a.m. We’re starting with five hundred crunches as a warm-up.”

Magnus downed the shake in one go. He didn’t look angry. He wiped the sweat off his face, and his eyes were blazing with obsession.

“Shut up and give me three more rounds. I’m breaking that armbar tonight if it kills me.”

Outside the grate, Cleo clutched her bottle of painkillers as she looked from the thoroughly dominated Magnus to her dripping-with-sweat, completely exhilarated sister.

She swallowed hard, stuffed the supplies back into her pocket, and climbed back over the wall with a blank expression.

Who the hell started the rumor that Magnus was the violent one? Magnus was clearly the one getting destroyed.