CLAIMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE FIGHTER

CHAPTER TWO. LINES WE DON'T CROSS

Jaxon had convinced Rex to throw an afterparty at his girlfriend’s loft, and the living room was already a jungle of perfume clouds, was A sparrow, Jaxon was a peacock loud, dazzling, and impossible to ignore. He floated through rooms like he owned them, laughing too hard, hugging too tight, drinking too much.

And unfortunately for Carmen, he dragged her along tonight.

She sat curled up on the sofa, hoodie swallowing her, a paperback cracked open across her knees.

“You’re coming,” Jaxon announced, barging into the room with his usual hurricane energy.

"Nope."

“Yes.” He plucked the book from her lap, ignoring her squawk of protest. “C’mon, Carm. One night. You’re nineteen, not ninety.”

“Books don’t give me headaches the next morning.”

“Neither do parties if you stop glaring at everyone like they owe you money.” He grinned, tossing her book onto the coffee table.

Come on, Carm. It’ll be fun, Jaxon had said, tossing a sequinned top at her earlier like he was some kind of stylist. She had thrown it back at his face, refusing to go with him.

It'll be fun. He said

Fun for you, maybe. For me, it’ll be standing in the corner watching you flirt with girls who think mixing vodka with soda counts as personality.

Jaxon gasped dramatically, clutching the top to his chest. You wound me. You’re lucky I even invited you. Think of this as… social education.

Yeah, she muttered. Because I need lessons in watching you get drunk.

Seriously, Carms. You hide too much.

People would love you if you just…”

He gestured vaguely at her hoodie. “…unhid yourself.

Unhid isn’t even a word,” she muttered.

Behind Jaxon, Rex appeared, leaning against the doorframe like he owned it. He always did that leaned in, as though the entire house was just another corner of his empire. His grey T-shirt clung to his chest, scarred knuckles tapping against the frame.

“Your brother’s right,” Rex drawled. “For once.”

Carmen froze.

He tilted his head, eyes sweeping her oversized hoodie, the messy bun at the crown of her head, the stubborn set of her jaw. His smirk deepened.

“You’d break hearts if you stopped dressing like a lost burrito.”

Jaxon barked out a laugh. “She does look like a burrito!”

Carmen threw a cushion at his head. “You’re both idiots.”

But her cheeks burned, because Rex’s gaze lingered a beat too long before he pushed off the doorframememeeame.

“See you at the party, Sparrow,” he said, voice low enough that only she caught it.

Carmen wasn’t sure what possessed her that night. Maybe it was her brother’s constant teasing. Maybe it was the way Rex had looked at her, that unreadable heat in his eyes. Or maybe it was the way she was tired of being invisible.

Still, she let herself be pulled along.

The party was at some girl’s high-rise apartment, all glass walls and bad decisions. Music thumped so loud the floor seemed to vibrate. The living room glowed pink and blue from neon strips lining the ceiling. Perfume, sweat, alcohol, and smoke hung heavy in the air.

Carmen almost turned right back around.

But Jaxon was already swallowed by the crowd, someone shoving a red cup in his hand before he even said hello. He didn’t notice when she froze in the doorway, clutching her hoodie zipper like armour.

And that’s when Maddie, the host, Rex’s occasional fling with too much eyeliner and not enough sense, swooped in.

Ohhh, Jax’s little sister! Maddie squealed, tugging Carmen into the room. We are not letting you stand around in that blanket. You’re too cute to hide.

Carmen sputtered. It’s not a blanket, it’s a hoodie older than the internet? Yeah, no. You’re coming with me. Maddie shoved a drink in her hand and dragged her toward a bedroom.

Thirty minutes later, Carmen was staring at herself in a mirror, horrified.

Her hoodie was gone. Replaced with a silky black dress Maddie claimed she just had lying around, which clung in places Carmen didn’t even realise she had curves. Her hair, usually tied back, was loose, tumoring around her shoulders. Maddie had even swiped something shiny over her lips.

I look ridiculous, Carmen groaned.

You look like a girl who’s about to ruin lives, Maddie declared, grinning. Now go strut. You’re not hiding tonight.

She tried not to strut. She really did. But walking back into the party, the loft’s neon lights reflected in her eyes as she stepped in. Music pulsed, laughter echoed, and every conversation seemed to pause just a fraction too long as people registered her, every head seemed to turn. She wanted to shrink. She wanted to run. Even Jaxon blinked, mid-shot, then nearly spat tequila across the table.

Carmen? He squinted. What the...did Maddie..? Oh my God. You have legs?

Don’t be dramatic, Carmen muttered, cheeks burning.

But Jaxon wasn’t the only one staring.

Across the room, Rex leaned against the kitchen counter, a bottle of beer in his hand. He was laughing at something one of the fighters said until he looked up and saw her, it was like a current snapped in the air.

The laugh died on his lips. His grip on the glass tightened. His whole body stilled, like someone had cut the sound out of the room. His gaze tracked her from head to toe, slow and heavy, before locking on her eyes with a force that made her knees tremble. Carmen’s breath stuttered.

And Carmen, for once, didn’t look awafavouriteworld had always made her feel small. But under Rex’s gaze, she felt… seen. Too seen.

Rex found her later, standing by the balcony door, pretending to admire the skyline so no one could see her heart about to beat out of her chest.

You lost your feathers, Sparrow. His voice was closer than she expected. Low. Rough. Calm.

She jumped, spilling a little of her drink. Don’t sneak up on people!

You look…He hesitated, eyes dragging over her again, then snapped away like he’d been caught. Different.

That’s what happens when girls stop hiding under hoodies, she said, surprising even herself with the bite in her tone.

Rex smirked. Careful. You’re starting to sound like you’ve got claws.

Maybe I do.

For a moment, the air between them tightened. The noise of the party blurred into background static. Carmen tilted her chin, daring him to keep looking at her that way.

Then Roman, one of the fighters who always hovered around Rex’s circle slid in, grinning.

Well, well. Didn’t know Hale’s little sister could clean up like this, Roman said, leaning too close. Careful, sweetheart. You’re gonna give the guy heart problems.

Carmen forced a polite smile, edging back. “Thanks, but I’m fine.

Roman chuckled, ignoring her.

Then leaned closer to whrealisedmething in her ear, and she laughed, more nervous than amused.

It was innocent. Harmless.

But Rex’s jaw tightened. His knuckles flexed. His chest rose with a sharp inhale.

Something primal snapped inside him.

Roman continued and said, Tell you what, when you get bored with these rookies, you should let me take you out. Show you a real good time.

Before Carmen could answer, Rex’s hand was suddenly on her waist, firm and possessive, tugging her just enough that Roman’s grin faltered.

She’s not bored, Rex said flatly. And she’s not interested.

Roman raised his hands, still smirking. Easy, Mercer. Didn’t know she was already taken.

She’s not. Rex’s eyes burned into his. But she’s not yours either.

The air thickened, heavy and charged. Roman’s eyes darted to Carmen, then back to Rex.

Carmen’s breath caught. Her entire body buzzed where his hand touched her. Roman finally slunk off with a muttered joke, but the tension lingered like smoke.

Rex she began, voice trembling.

He dropped his hand fast, almost like it burned him. He stepped closer, so close the scent of his cologne wrapped around her, dark and addictive.

“You're favourite let men like him too close,” Rex muttered, voice rough.

Stay away from guys like him, Sparrow. They’ll eat you alive.

Her sarcasm slipped out before she could stop it. Oh? And what about guys like you?

For once, Rex had no answer. His smirk was gone. His eyes burned. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The rules Jaxon’s sister, off-limits hung between them like a razor edge.

But Carmen felt it. The shift. The inciting pull neither could ignore.

And Rex, for once, didn’t look away.

The music throbbed through the walls, neon lights painting everything in shades of violet and gold. Carmen wasn’t sure if the heat in her cheeks was from the crowd, the silk pressing against her. The world says Rex Mercer had just looked at her like she wasn’t supposed to exist this way.

Like she was a problem.

Like she was his problem.

“Rex, you can’t just scare people away like that,” Carmen hissed, arms crossing over her chest in a ,flimsy attempt at composure.

,He arched a brow, the scar near his right temple catching the light. Peorecitingngngngngnghat was Roman. He stares at you like you’re the last cookie in the jar.”

Carmen blinked. “And what if I like being the last cookie?”

His mouth twitched. “You’d crumble in his hands.”

She stared at him, horrified and then laughed despite herself. “Did you seriously just make a cookie metaphor?”

“Don’t test me, Sparrow. I’ve got a whole bakery of metaphors ready.”

She snorted, which only encouraged him.

“Little Sparrow,” he continued smoothly, stepping closer so she had to tilt her head back, “you’re a soufflé. Fragile. Complicated. If someone touches you wrong, you collapse.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you just compare me to egg pudding?”

He smirked. “Expensive egg pudding.”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands, but her shoulders shook with laughter. The tension between them the dangerous, electric kind didn’t vanish, but it bent, softened, became something tangled with warmth.

Jaxon barreled through the crowd then, arm slung over a girl Carmen didn’t recognize, grinning like a fox who’d raided the henhouse. Carmen smoothly said World best brother.

Jaxon only winked, already distracted by his date. “Stay out of trouble. Don’t drink anything Rex gives you.”

He vanished again, leaving Carmen staring after him. “He’s unbelievable.”

Rex leaned closer, voice brushing against her ear. “He’s not wrong about the drinking part. You’d be a lightweight.”

Carmen glared at him. “You don’t know that.”

He smirked. “Oh, I do. One glass of wine and you’d start reciting poetry to the furniture.”

She shoved him this time, palm flat against his chest. Big mistake. His chest was warm, solid, like pressing against a brick wall disguised in muscle. She yanked her hand back like she’d been burned, but Rex caught her wrist before she could tuck it away.

“Careful, Sparrow,” he murmured, thumb brushing against her pulse. “Keep touching me like that and your brother might notice.”

Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re staring at my mouth.”

She gasped, cheeks blazing. “I am not”

“You are.” He grinned, wicked and smug.

Carmen groaned again, wanting the floor to open up and swallow her. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice softened, almost teasing, almost something else. “That’s the problem.”

Later that night, after the party blurred into laughter, spilled drinks, and bad dancing, Carmen found herself outside on the balcony. The city stretched out in front of her neon, noise, life. She breathed in the cool night air, grateful for the break.

The glass door slid open behind her. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“You always sneak off when the music gets too loud,” Rex said, his voice calm against the chaos inside.

Carmen hugged her arms around herself. “Maybe I like quiet.”

“Or maybe you like hiding.”

She shot him a sideways glance. “You talk too much for a fighter.”

“And you don’t talk enough for a girl with that sharp of a tongue.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head.

For a moment, they stood in silence. Then Rex pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to her.

A lollipop.

Carmen blinked. “What”

“You looked like you needed one.” His lips curved into that infuriating smirk.

She took it slowly, suspicion in her eyes. “Do you… just carry candy around?”

“Only for emergencies. And bribes. Jaxon doesn’t know I keep them in the glove compartment.”

Carmen laughed again, biting back a smile as she unwrapped it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re smiling, Sparrow.”

Her lips curved despite herself. “Maybe I just like candy.”

“Or maybe you, just like me.”

She almost choked on the lollipop. “Arrogant much?”

“Confident,” he corrected smoothly. “There’s a difference.”

“Arrogant,” she muttered, but her cheeks were on fire.

Back inside, the party rolled on. But something had shifted. Carmen could feel it like a secret pressed into her palm. Every time Rex’s eyes found hers across the room, every time his smirk ghosted across his lips, it felt like a silent tug pulling her closer.

She was no longer invisible.

And he was no longer pretending not to see.

The night ended in the Hale living room, Jaxon sprawled across the couch, half-asleep and mumbling about pizza. Carmen was curled into the armchair, trying to focus on her phone, but her thoughts kept circling back to the balcony, to Rex, to the way his thumb had brushed her pulse like he’d meant to memorize it.

Rex himself was stretched out on the other end of the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looked like he belonged there, like the Hale house was half his too.

At some point, Carmen shifted, stretching her legs. Her foot nudged his thigh.

He glanced up, eyebrows raised. “Sparrow, you just kicked a billionaire fighter.”

“You were in the way,” she said innocently.

His smirk was slow, dangerous. “Careful. I might start charging you rent for using me as a footrest.”

“Fine,” she shot back, “I’ll pay in lollipops.”

“Deal,” he said without missing a beat, settling her foot more comfortably against his leg.

And that was how Carmen fell asleep that night, head tilted against the armchair, lollipop wrapper on the coffee table, and Rex Mercer sitting just close enough that if she stirred, he’d be the first thing she saw.