I swallowed hard when I speculated what those tally marks represented. Deaths. They were counts of the people he’d killed.

A strange feeling crept into my stomach as I thought about it for the first time. This was somebody who could rival Alik. Alik was so strong and infallible in the cage. I’d never thought about him losing a match; the possibility never even crossed my mind. But this guy, at least on paper, he really could be a genuine contender.

I had to tell Papa. Raze didn’t belong in the lower ranks. If he could fight as well as he could lift, he should be a headliner. It would help if we could get an idea about his past, the story behind his name.

“Raze?” Viktor called as I made notes on my pad, and I heard a dumbbell clatter to the floor. “You need to meet Miss. Kisa Volkova. She runs things around here, for her father. He runs the whole show.”

Raze turned to face me; it felt as if a northern wind had gusted in. He pulled my attention. Scribbling the last note on the paper, I looked up to see a ripped and cut muscled man standing panting, salty sweat dripping to the floor. His eyes were downcast, Eye Black smudged underneath each one to disguise his eyes. But like a spell, a will for him to lift his gaze, his head lifted and I found myself staring into a pair of brown eyes, the left iris smudged with a hint of blue… my blue, the color from my eyes…

“Y-you?” I whispered as I drank in this man. It was him. Him! All six-four, two twenty pounds of him. Tanned skin covered in scars, marks, and sadistic tattoos. I saw the recognition flash across his eyes, but in a second, his stare was numb again, like he was blocking me out, like he was blocking everything out, except the rage he kept hidden. I grew breathless as his packed abs and pecs tensed under my scrutiny, his bulging thighs clenched at my attention, and his traps danced as his jaw tightened the more I stared.

And his face? Finally, I could study his face in the light, and my God… he was beautiful. Without meaning to, my lips parted in want and a silent hiss slipped out. Raze’s stern face was covered in dark stubble, three large scars marring his weathered skin, one down his cheek, one angled down his forehead, and one slashed under his left eye. But they didn’t make him any less handsome. No, Raze couldn’t be described as handsome. Rough, raw, dark, dangerous, intimidating… the opposite of handsome. But I couldn’t tear my gaze from him regardless.

And then those brown eyes with a hint of blue bored so fervently on my chest, a chest panting a shade too hard, betraying the effect he was having on my traitorous body. My nipples became erect, far too sensitive against the material of my camisole. The brush of the fabric sent jolts of pleasure to my clit, and I had to fight the urge to drop my hand to my pussy, from palming the flesh of my breasts.

And then one thought broke through the trance, through the hellish spell I’d found myself under. I had given him ten grand. He was the buy-in. I had given him the money to get his revenge… and he’d bought into my Dungeon.

“Viktor, leave us alone,” I ordered rather too harshly, my demand met with silence.

I stared at Raze and he stared back, the tension palpable between us. “Viktor, leave,” I commanded again.

“Miss. Kisa—”

“Viktor! Leave!” I shouted. I heard Viktor sigh and exit the training room, slamming the door.

My heart pounded like a drum in my chest, so hard I feared Raze could hear it in the few feet between us. His sheer size was intimidating, his cold stare bone chilling, and I had to fight the urge to think of Luka.

But this man was not Luka.

Steeling my nerves, I asked, “Why are you here?”

Raze’s eyes flared and his lips tightened, but no answer was forthcoming.

Anger infused my blood and I stepped closer, watching his muscled chest tense, and I snapped, “Why?”

A growl ripped from his throat and he closed in on me until I smelled that fresh snow smell of his skin mixed with the scent of his workout.

I gasped as Raze’s large frame loomed over me, causing me to stumble back until my shoulders hit the wall. I darted my gaze up to meet his and held my breath.

His brown eyes darkened as he stared down at me and his face flushed red.

“Raze—”

“Revenge.” The ropes and veins in his traps bulged in tune with his reply.

“On who?” I whispered, watching a small bead of sweat running from the bottom of his throat down his chest, before fluttering my eyes up to refocus on his mouth. His lips were full, his cupid’s bow defined.

Raze’s palm slapped on the wall above me, caging me in, and his head lowered even farther, my breasts heaving at the proximity. He inhaled deeply, drinking in my scent. His face flushed and, for a moment his eyes closed, a frown pulling on his forehead.