CLAIMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE FIGHTER

CHAPTER ONE LITTLE SPARROW If there were a prize for World's Most Overprotective Brother, Jaxon Hale would've won it three years in a row and been banned from the competition for being "too good at it ". Carmen Hale knew this, because she was his little sister. And also because he once threw a guy through a café door for looking at her latte art "the wrong way". Carmen Hale had mastered the art of invisibility. Not the magic kind, but the quiet shrinking of shoulders, the pulling of sleeves down to her palms, the way her hoodies draped so loose they blurred her outline into something unremarkable. She had lived in her brother Jaxon’s shadow for nineteen years this way, trailing behind his easy laugh, effortless charm, and magnetism that drew entire rooms to orbit him. Carmen learned early that the safest way to navigate life was to stay quiet, remain unnoticed, and avoid trouble. Her brother, Jaxon, was enough noise for the both of them, loud, magnetic, always in the centre of attention with a drink in his hand and trouble on his heels. Carmen was content with her books, her scribbled notebooks, and her late-night journaling sessions by the glow of fairy lights strung across her bedroom walls. She loved words. Words never demanded more of her than she was willing to give. They didn’t tease, didn’t pry, didn’t compare her to Jaxon. But Rex Mercer noticed her, He always noticed. From the very first time Jaxon dragged him home after high school practice, Rex had seen her. Not in the polite, half-glance way her brother’s other friends did, but in the way that made Carmen’s stomach flutter and her palms go clammy. He’d smirk at her hoodies, ruffle her hair like she was still twelve, and call her Little Sparrow. Don’t hide those eyes, Sparrow. You’ve got better aim than half the boxers I know, he teased once, after catching her throwing popcorn with lethal accuracy at Jaxon during movie night. It had been years, and still Rex noticed. He wasn’t just Jaxon’s best friend anymore. Rex was the city’s hidden storm. Billionaire heir to Mercer Holdings by day, underground boxer by night. His name echoed in smoky gyms, whispered with a mixture of awe and fear: Mercer with the bloodied knuckles, Mercer who never backed down, Mercer who bought entire blocks just to rebuild them in neon and glass. To the city, he was untouchable, dangerous. To Jaxon, he was family. To Carmen, he was danger wrapped in the only warmth she secretly craved. I told you not to show up here, Jaxon muttered now, dragging his palm down his face as though her very presence was giving him wrinkles. I told you I don't care, Carmen shot back, adjusting the strap of her oversized hoodie. Besides, someone has to make sure you don't come back with another black eye. Mom thinks you're an accountant. That's because I am an accountant, Jaxon grinned, all teeth, "At least on paper." You mean you're bad at math and lying. Before Jaxon could retort, the air shifted. It always did when he arrived. Rex Mercer. The underground troublemaker. All muscle, sharp grin, and enough swagger to make even the shadows roll their eyes, His reputation walked into the gym three minutes before he did. "Little Sparrow," Rex's voice rang out the moment he spotted her, smooth and annoyingly amused. You followed your brother again? Should I get you a leash, Jax? She keeps escaping. Carmen groaned and tugged her hood lower. Do you ever get tired of calling me that? Nope. He leaned against the boxing ring ropes, eyes dark and playful. Because you flap around all nervous, just like a sparrow. Tiny. Jumpy. Cute. I'm not tiny Carmen muttered. She says while drowning inside a hoodie four times her size, Rex fired back. Jaxon cut in, scowling. Rex, stop picking on her. Rex held up his hands in mock surrender. Hey, relax. If I really wanted to pick on her, I'd tell her that hoodie could double as a camping tent. "Rex!" What? Don't glare at me, Sparrow. It's a compliment. Imagine all the snacks you could smuggle in that thing. That's talent. Carmen couldn't help it, she laughed. The sound escaped before she could stuff it back down, and Rex's grin widened like he'd just scored a knockout punch. See? She thinks I'm funny. I think you're impossible. Same thing. The rest of the night played out like most underground gym evenings: fighters training, girlfriends gossiping at the corner benches, and Jaxon pretending he could keep Carmen invisible. Except Rex kept orbiting her space, like he couldn’t resist dropping comments. When she sneezed, he handed her a towel instead of tissues. When she yawned, he teased, “Need a bedtime story, Sparrow? Want me to tuck you in?” When she accidentally tripped over a dumbbell, he announced to the whole gym, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new champion of the Floor Wrestling League.” By the time Jaxon finished sparring, Carmen was ready to strangle Rex with the drawstrings of her hoodie. As they left, Rex strolled beside them, whistling off-key. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?” Carmen asked, exasperated. “Probably,” Rex said easily. “But none of them roll their eyes at me the way you do. It’s like a personal challenge now.” “A challenge you’re losing.” He tilted his head, grin wicked. “Am I?” For half a second, Carmen forgot to breathe. His eyes weren’t just teasing then they were dark, unreadable, and far too focused on her. She tugged her hood lower, breaking the moment. Jaxon cleared his throat loudly, shoving Rex's shoulder. “Don’t even think about it, Mercer.” Rex smirked. “Relax, man. She’s your sister. Off-limits.” But as his gaze lingered one last time before he sauntered off into the night, Carmen had the strange, terrifying feeling that, Rex Mercer was very bad at following rules. And that was the beginning. The night everything started to shift. The next day Carmen followed her brother to the gym without him knowing But Rex Mercer knew, he always noticed her. Even now, from where she sat on the cracked wooden bleachers of the underground boxing gym, she could feel his eyes catch hers in stolen glances. The air was thick with sweat, beer, and the metallic tang of blood. Men shouted, women laughed, fists collided with wet, brutal sounds that made her flinch but Rex thrived in it. He was in the ring tonight, scarred knuckles wrapped tight, his sharp jaw glistening under harsh fluorescent lights. A crowd of men twice his age and twice his weight circled the ropes, cheering, betting, baying for violence. Rex moved like a predator, all lean muscle and feral grace, dodging, striking, smiling with blood at the corner of his mouth. Dangerous. Untouchable. Yet when his gaze flicked to her again, it softened. Just for a second. Just enough to unravel something tight in her chest. Carmen pulled her hoodie tighter around her. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Jaxon would lose his mind if he knew she had followed him down into the underbelly of the city tonight. He thought he was protecting her from this world, keeping her in, the bright, safe places. Books and libraries. Study groups and quiet bedrooms. But she had grown restless. Maybe even reckless. And maybe… maybe she wanted Rex to see her. “Little Sparrow,” Rex had called her since she was thirteen. A nickname that infuriated her, but one she secretly clung to. He used it like a taunt, smirking whenever she scowled or ducked her head. But beneath it, there had always been something else, an acknowledgement that he noticed her at all. Tonight, when he landed the knockout punch and the crowd erupted, Carmen felt her pulse hammer in her throat. Rex didn’t lift his arms to bask in the cheers. He didn’t grin at the women leaning over the rails, screaming his name. No his eyes sought hers in the crowd, and for a dizzy, impossible heartbeat, it felt like the whole fight had been for her. Afterwards, the gym thinned out. Fighters limped toward the showers, gamblers counted their winnings, and music from the neon bar upstairs throbbed faintly through the floorboards. Jaxon was still at the bar, oblivious, laughing too loudly with some girl in glitter heels. Carmen lingered near the wall, hugging herself, debating whether to slip away before anyone noticed her. But Rex found her first. “You shouldn’t be here, Little Sparrow.” His voice was low, rough from shouting in the ring. He leaned against the wall beside her, broad shoulders still gleaming with sweat, the faint scent of smoke and leather clinging to him. Carmen tried to muster her best glare. “Don’t call me that.” His grin was sharp. “Why not? Fits you. Small. Shy. Always fluttering around your brother.” “I’m not fluttering,” she muttered, crossing her arms tighter. I just... What? He tilted his head, eyes glinting. Followed Jaxon here? Or followed me? Her breath caught. Heat rushed up her neck. I neither! I was just curious.” Rex chuckled, low and dangerous. Curiosity gets little sparrows eaten alive in places like this. Then why do you keep looking at me? The words slipped out before she could stop them. Too bold. Too reckless. She froze, biting her lip hard. Rex’s smirk faltered. For a second, the air between them grew heavier, sharper, like the pause before a storm breaks. His eyes roamed her face too carefully, too intently before he straightened and forced the grin back. Because you don’t belong here, he said finally. And it’s my job to make sure you don’t forget it. Your job? she shot back, stung. You’re not my brother. No. His voice dropped, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. But I’m close enough. They stood there in silence, the sounds of the city leaking in from outside the honk of traffic, the bass of a car stereo, laughter and sirens mixing like the city’s own broken symphony. Carmen wrapped her arms tighter around herself, but inside, she felt anything but small. Because for the first time, she wasn’t just Jaxon’s kid sister in Rex’s eyes. She was something more. Something dangerous. At home later, Carmen lay awake in her tiny room, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars still stuck to her ceiling from when she was a child. She could hear Jaxon snoring through the thin wall, the muffled hum of the TV he’d left on. But her mind was full of Rex. His bloody knuckles, his grin, his voice calling her Little Sparrow. She hated it. She hated how much she wanted him to keep saying it. Her phone buzzed suddenly, startling her. A text from Jaxon, drunk and careless: Don’t wait up. Crashing at Chase’s. Carmen rolled her eyes, tossing the phone aside. Typical Jaxon. Then another buzz. Different number She frowned, picking it up. Unknown Number: Get some sleep, Sparrow. You’ve got class in the morning. Her heart stopped. She didn’t need to ask who it was. Rex. And even though every warning bell in her head screamed this was wrong, forbidden, dangerous Carmen smiled into the dark. She couldn't hold in the smile. Because he noticed. He always noticed.