Chapter Two
1858 Words
After telling my crew what to do, I headed off toward the Underground.
As I rode through the streets of Tampa, I couldn’t help but think about the woman I had become since being cast out by my family eighteen years ago.
I had built something powerful from the ashes they left behind.
The Ruthless Banshees.
A very successful MC with strip clubs, tattoo shops, mechanic garages, and businesses spread across the state.
But more importantly?
I had built a family.
Loyal club members who would kill for me without hesitation because every single one of us knew what it felt like to be abandoned, broken, or discarded by the world.
We all had different reasons for ending up here.
Different scars. Different demons.
Mine just happened to start with fire.
Even now, eighteen years later, I could still remember waking up alone in the forest after the Steele Outlaws burned my family crest and club tattoo from my skin. The smell of burned flesh still lived somewhere inside my head, buried beneath years of violence, money, and success.
Some nights I could still hear myself screaming.
Other nights?
I heard them standing around me while I burned.
I remembered dragging myself through the woods barely conscious, dirt sticking to my blood-soaked skin while every breath felt like knives carving through my chest. I should have died out there.
Maybe part of me did.
Eventually I found my car and drove until I physically couldn’t anymore.
Straight to Florida.
I had nothing when I got there.
No family.
No money.
No future.
For a while I slept in my car or wherever I could safely close my eyes for a few hours. Parking garages. Empty lots. Behind clubs.
I survived however I could because survival was the only thing I had left.
Then I found the Underground.
Back then it wasn’t mine.
It was just an illegal fight club hidden beneath the city where desperate people went to make money and dangerous people went looking for entertainment.
So I fought.
Night after night I stepped into that cage and beat the hell out of anyone they put in front of me because fighting meant money, and money meant food.
It was there that I met Marcus and Sarah.
Marcus saw potential in me almost immediately.
Sarah saw damage.
Neither one of them looked away.
I fought for them while putting myself through school at the same time, surviving on caffeine, rage, and pure stubbornness. During the day I studied law until my eyes burned. At night I climbed into a cage and spilled blood for rent money.
And somehow?
I made it.
Through sheer willpower, vengeance, and an unhealthy refusal to fail, I clawed my way through college and then law school.
Failure meant they won.
I refused to give them that.
The old owner of the Underground eventually showed his true colors. He started forcing women into things they did not want, hurting girls who had nowhere else to go because he thought nobody would stop him.
He was wrong.
I killed him for it.
Then I took over.
The Underground became mine after that.
And from there?
I built an empire.
Strip clubs.
Tattoo shops.
Mechanic garages.
Businesses spread across the state.
One business became two.
Two became ten.
Money stopped being something I worried about a very long time ago.
My kids’ kids’ kids would never want for anything.
Not if I could help it.
During the day, though?
I was Lila Buchanan.
Corporate attorney.
Strategist.
One of the most sought-after lawyers in the country.
But tonight?
Tonight I was Chaos.
And Chaos needed to check on her fight club.
Byte had messaged me earlier saying there was an issue at the Underground that needed my attention.
I pulled into the private parking garage beneath the Underground and killed the engine to my Ducati before heading toward the elevator.
The third floor was mine.
My office.
My shower.
My safe place.
To the outside world, this building was nothing more than a high-end law firm sitting in the middle of downtown Tampa.
Clean.
Expensive.
Respectable.
Exactly how I wanted it.
Nobody questioned successful lawyers.
Nobody ever imagined what existed underneath them.
I stepped into my private office and headed straight toward the shower connected to the back room. Hot water rolled down my skin as I stood there silently, letting the steam fill the room while I tried to wash away the blood and sweat from earlier.
Eventually I stepped out and grabbed a towel before turning toward the mirror.
That was a mistake.
My eyes instantly caught the burns stretched across my shoulder and upper back.
The scarred T branded permanently into my skin.
I hated looking at it.
Those scars were proof that my own blood family had called for my disfigurement.
That they had stood there and watched me burn.
Even now, after all these years, I still could not place the voices of the men who held me down while my crest was carved from my body.
I doubted I ever would.
I shoved the thoughts away before they could pull me somewhere dark again.
The past was dead.
Or at least that was what I kept telling myself.
I pulled on a pair of jeans and a black tank top before tightening my braid again. Then I reached for my mask.
Unlike most clubs, nobody inside the Underground knew what we truly looked like. Mine was black cloth that covered most of my face while still allowing me to fight comfortably.
I preferred this one.
Fighting mattered more than appearance.
Once the mask was secure, I headed toward the elevator and pressed the button for the basement.
The second the doors opened, music and yelling slammed into me hard enough to vibrate through my chest.
I loved it instantly.
The Underground was alive tonight.
Sweat, blood, alcohol, and adrenaline filled the massive underground arena while hundreds of voices screamed around the fighting cage below. Colored lights flashed across the crowd while bookies shouted odds from the sidelines and somewhere in the distance glass shattered followed by laughter.
Chaos.
Controlled chaos.
And every inch of it belonged to me.
I made my way toward my chair positioned above the arena floor. The second people noticed me walking in, the room slowly started going quiet.
Fighters stopped mid-swing.
Spectators stepped back.
Bookies straightened nervously.
My MC moved immediately into position around the arena.
Siren stood near the stairs with Hex beside her while Reaper, Byte, and the rest of my people spread throughout the room like shadows.
A few of the female prospects lingered near the walls watching everything carefully, still learning how the Underground operated.
I nodded once toward the crowd before sitting down in my chair.
The room erupted back to life instantly.
Music blared again.
People screamed.
Fighting resumed.
Just the way I liked it.
The night moved quickly after that.
Fight after fight filled the cage while money exchanged hands all around me. Blood hit the canvas repeatedly, and the crowd only got louder every time someone dropped.
Honestly?
It was relaxing.
I couldn’t stay long tonight, though.
I had class to teach in the morning and a client meeting at five-thirty that would probably end with me destroying another corporation.
The fights kept getting better as the night went on until Siren finally walked over toward me.
“It’s your turn.”
A grin spread across my face instantly.
Now we were talking.
I stood from my chair and made my way down toward the arena floor while the crowd started cheering louder.
“CHAOS!”
“CHAOS!”
“CHAOS!”
I stepped into the cage, my face still covered.
The energy in the room shifted immediately.
People loved watching me fight because I never fought fair.
I fought to win.
My opponent stepped into the cage a few seconds later, and I smiled beneath my mask.
Jasper.
Tall.
Tattooed.
Built like a damn tank.
He walked directly toward me before leaning down slightly and smelling me.
He did this every single time we fought.
“Will Sienna and I be seeing you later?” he whispered against my ear.
“Yes,” I whispered back.
That wicked grin of his appeared instantly.
I stepped backward as he moved away from me.
The bell rang.
Jasper came at me first with a brutal right hook aimed directly at my jaw. I ducked underneath it smoothly before driving my elbow hard into his ribs.
He barely reacted.
Bastard.
The crowd roared around us as he grabbed for me, but I twisted away before sweeping my leg low enough to knock him slightly off balance.
Jasper recovered fast and slammed his fist into my stomach hard enough to force me backward.
Now that hurts.
I grinned beneath my mask.
Finally,
A real fight.
He lunged again, and this time I met him head-on.
We traded blows back and forth across the cage while the crowd screamed louder with every hit. Jasper was stronger than me physically, but I was faster.
Much faster.
He swung wide again.
Mistake.
I slipped inside his guard, grabbed his arm, and twisted sharply before slamming my knee directly into his stomach.
The second he bent forward, I drove my elbow into the back of his neck hard enough to drop him to one knee.
The crowd lost their minds.
Jasper looked up at me and laughed.
“You enjoy this too much.”
“You have no idea.”
He rushed me again, but this time I was ready.
I caught his arm, planted my foot against his chest, and used his own momentum to throw him across the cage.
He hit the canvas hard.
Before he could recover, I was already on top of him.
I pinned his arm behind his back and wrapped my other arm around his throat tightly enough to cut off airflow.
The crowd counted loudly.
“ONE!”
“TWO!”
“THREE!”
Jasper tapped against my arm repeatedly.
I released him immediately and stood up while the arena exploded into cheers.
The announcer yelled my name while people started throwing money toward the cage.
I held my hand out and helped Jasper back to his feet.
“You cheating asshole,” he muttered while laughing through heavy breaths.
I smirked beneath my mask.
“You still love me.”
He grabbed my wrist and pulled himself close enough that our chests nearly touched.
“Unfortunately.”
The crowd screamed around us, but neither one of us paid attention to them for a second.
Jasper had always looked at me like he knew exactly how dangerous I was…
And liked me more because of it.
I leaned closer slightly.
“Meet me on the fifth floor later.”
His grin turned downright sinful.
“Oh, now that sounds promising.”
I rolled my eyes before turning away from him and exiting the cage.
The crowd continued roaring behind me while I headed toward the elevator.
My apartment waited upstairs.
And after tonight?
I desperately needed sleep.
- Writer
