But I could see it in her eyes. The uncertainty. The calculations whirring in that empty head of hers, trying to find a way out.
Too late.
Amber had given her an out. Now it was time to shut this down.
The fight began.
If you could even call it a fight.
Rose swung first—an ugly, wide punch with no technique, no power. Amber stepped aside, casual, and the hit missed by a mile.
Rose tried again. Another wild punch. Another miss.
Then a kick, sloppy and slow. Amber dodged, pivoting smoothly out of the way.
Again.
And again.
Every single move Rose made, Amber saw it coming. She either dodged, stopped it mid-air, or blocked it so effortlessly it looked like she was toying with her.
Because she was.
Rose had never trained a day in her life.
She never needed
