Sealed : The Alpha King's Return

CH 8 The Rematch Nobody Asked For

Deke’s gym had one rule, it wasn’t written on the wall, but everyone knew it. No one challenges Ghost twice in the same month.

Apparently, nobody told that to Diego.

Two weeks ago, Alfred “Ghost” had knocked him out cold, now here he was again, climbing through the ropes like he forgot what happened last time.

Marcus was sitting ringside with his arms crossed. When he saw Diego, he groaned.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, loud enough for half the gym to hear.

“This is the same guy, that's a bad decision.”

Diego looked around and tried to act tough. He cracked his knuckles like it was a movie scene. “Beginner’s luck,” he announced to everyone. “That’s what that was, tonight’s different.”

Marcus couldn’t keep quiet. “It’s really not,” he called back. “I’ve seen this movie already. The sequel is always worse.”

“Marcus,” Alfred said quietly, pulling on his gloves.

“I’m just managing expectations!” Marcus grinned. “Someone has to.”

The bell rang.

Diego came to Alfred fast, but it was angry fast. He was throwing wild punches, swinging hard, not thinking, and that was perfect for Alfred.

Angry punches are easy to read. They’re predictable, like knowing it’s going to rain when the sky is dark. Alfred dodged the first two. The third one caught him on the shoulder. It would leave a bruise tomorrow, but that was nothing.

He saw the opening and took it, one move and two seconds. Diego hit the mat even faster than last time.

The crowd didn’t know what to feel, some people looked disappointed because the fight was too short. Others looked impressed because Alfred made it look so easy.

Marcus was already on his feet, helping Alfred climb back through the ropes. “So… rematch in two weeks?” he asked with a big smile.

Alfred wiped sweat from his face. “If he’s stubborn enough.”

“Oh, he’s stubborn enough,” Marcus said. “I give him eight days. Max. The man has something to prove and zero idea how bad he is at this.”

They walked home after that, the night’s money was folded up in Alfred’s jacket pocket, his shoulders hurt the way they always did after a fight that dull, familiar ache, like wearing an old coat you’re used to.

It should have been a good night, the money was decent, the fight was easy,and Marcus spent the whole walk home doing a terrible impression of Diego’s trash talk before the fight. “You! Ghost! You got lucky!” Marcus mocked, puffing out his chest and tripping over a crack in the sidewalk.

Alfred laughed, but only a little, because under all of that, there was something else on his mind.

It was quiet, like a song playing far away.

He kept thinking about a woman he’d seen a few days ago, she was in an expensive building lobby, dressed like money, standing by a big fountain. She had called the fountain “an eyesore.” And for one second, her serious face cracked, she looked like she wanted to laugh. Her name was Beatrice.

Alfred didn’t say any of this to Marcus. Marcus was his best friend, he trusted him with everything — his money, secrets, and bruises, bu there's t some things you don’t say out loud. Because once you say them, they become real, and real things can be taken from you.

Alfred learned that when he was young.

People make promises, they can't keep people making decisions about you behind closed doors, and then one day, those things are gone.

So he kept Beatrice folded up in his head, like the money in his pocket. Safe and quiet. He wasn’t in a hurry to lose anything else.

The night was cool, the streets were empty. Marcus was still doing Diego’s voice. Alfred walked beside him, fists in his pockets, thinking about a laugh he wasn’t supposed to have seen.