Chapter 9 - Ezra Enters The Ring Underestimating His Quiet Cellist Opponent
The overhead halogen lights hummed loudly as Nessa stepped through the canvas ropes and into the center of the ring.
The surrounding syndicate members jeered quietly, placing side bets on whether Ezra would knock her out in thirty seconds or a minute.
Ezra bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, throwing a flurry of test jabs into the empty air with crisp, mechanical rhythm.
He looked at Nessa with the casual arrogance of a man who had never faced a trained martial artist outside of sanctioned gym wars.
“Two full rounds,” Ezra reminded her, stepping to the center marker. “Survive them both, and your grandfather’s hospital debt disappears tonight.”
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“And the cello?” Nessa asked, her eyes locked onto his posture.
“Replaced with a nineteenth-century master instrument imported directly from Milan,” Ezra replied, raising his guard.
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