Apurv_4942

He fights for survival. She fights for love. In the brutal world of underground boxing, where fists carve destinies and love is a dangerous game, Alexander "The Revenant" Voss is a man haunted by demons. Scarred by a childhood of violence and a past soaked in blood, he believes he is incapable of love—until he meets Eve Laurent, a psychologist who sees through his armor. Their romance is as dark as it is beautiful, built on pain, passion, and the promise of something neither of them truly believes they deserve. But love is never enough. When the past returns with a vengeance, Alexander is forced to choose between redemption and destruction, between the ring and the woman who holds his fragile soul. In the end, some battles can only be won by losing everything.

Gloves & Sins

The night was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded just days ago. The scent of smoke still lingered in the air, remnants of the fire that had swallowed Carver's empire whole. But Alexander knew the war wasn't over. It never was.

He sat in the dimly lit room of a safe house, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the fresh scars on his knuckles. Eve was in the other room, pouring over documents she had uncovered in the ruins of Carver's operation. Every paper, every file, every bank statement held pieces of a puzzle—a puzzle that led straight to the one man Alexander had tried to forget.

A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Alexander was on his feet in an instant, gun in hand as he moved silently across the room. He cracked the door open, muscles tensed, ready for an attack.

Instead, he found an older man standing there, face shadowed by the flickering streetlights. The man's eyes were sharp, calculating. He wasn't afraid. That alone made Alexander grip the gun tighter.

"I don't have time for strangers," Alexander said coldly.

The man smirked. "I'm not a stranger. Not to you."

Alexander didn't move, his finger hovering over the trigger.

"I used to work for your father," the man continued, voice even. "And I know the truth about the hit he placed on you."

For a moment, the world seemed to slow. The weight of the words pressed against his chest, suffocating and sharp. He had always known his father had wanted him dead, but hearing it spoken so plainly was something else entirely.

Alexander stepped back, allowing the man inside. He shut the door behind him but didn't lower his weapon. "Talk."

The man walked further into the room, taking in his surroundings with the ease of someone who had spent years reading every detail of a place before speaking. "Your father is still in the game. More than you realize. The hit he placed on you wasn't just about eliminating a threat. It was about covering up something bigger."

Alexander's jaw clenched. "Bigger?"

The man nodded. "You weren't supposed to know what he was involved in. But you saw something you shouldn't have. You got too close. And that made you a liability."

Memories flickered at the edges of Alexander's mind—whispers of conversations, brief glimpses of his father's dealings that, at the time, had seemed insignificant. But he had been young then, naive enough to think family meant something.

Eve stepped into the room, a stack of papers clutched in her hands. Her eyes flicked between Alexander and their unexpected visitor. "What's going on?"

Alexander didn't answer. Instead, he turned to the man. "How do I know you're not just feeding me a story?"

The man smirked again, but there was no amusement in it. "Because I have proof." He reached into his coat and pulled out a thin file. "Names. Transactions. A direct link between your father and some of the worst underground operations still active today."

Eve moved closer, taking the file and flipping through its contents. Her expression hardened. "He's telling the truth. This… this is real."

Alexander took the file from her, scanning the pages. Bank accounts. Offshore holdings. The same network of crime and corruption Carver had thrived in, but on a much larger scale. His father's reach hadn't diminished with time—it had grown.

The weight of it settled over him like a suffocating fog.

"The dead don't talk, Alexander," the man said, watching him closely. "But their secrets do."

Alexander exhaled slowly, his grip on the papers tightening. His father had tried to bury the past, but the past had a way of clawing its way back to the surface. And if this was the path laid before him, then he would see it through.

CHAPTER 46 – Shadows of the Past