Chapter 2 - Remembering The Muay Thai Championship Days Of Youth
Nessa walked out of the Meridian Tower lobby into the cool Toronto night air, her ruined cello case clutched tightly in her arms.
The damp spruce wood felt heavy against her ribs, a constant reminder of the casual cruelty practiced by men like Ezra Blackwood and Pavl Gorski.
She hailed a cab with a sharp whistle, sliding into the back seat while carefully resting the damaged instrument beside her.
As the vehicle merged onto the Gardiner Expressway, her mind drifted back across the years to Bangkok’s stifling training camps.
Before conservatory tuition and classical sheet music dominated her life, her world was defined by the slap of leather against heavy bags.
She had spent five grueling years fighting in the professional Lumpinee stadium circuits under an assumed surname to protect her family.
Her elbows were hardened bone; her shins were conditioned iron from kicking banana trees in the damp Thai humidity.
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She had walked away from the sport not because she was beaten, but because her grandfather’s stroke required a quiet, respectable life.
Now, the skills she thought she buried forever were the only leverage she had against a multi-million-dollar crime syndicate.
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