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Liam stayed inside her for a long time after he finished.

Claire’s body remained soft and heavy against his chest, her breathing still uneven. Every few seconds a faint tremor ran through her thighs.

When he finally softened and slipped free, a slow trickle of his release followed.

Claire made a small sound at the emptiness and the warm mess that spread between her legs.

He lifted her carefully from his lap and laid her on her side on the sofa. Her skin carried clear marks red handprints across her ass, faint bruises on her hips, soft bite marks on her breasts.

Between her legs she was swollen and shiny. Liam went to the bathroom, returned with a warm cloth, and cleaned her with slow, practical movements.

Claire watched him through half-lidded eyes, too exhausted to look away or protest.

When he finished, he picked her up again and carried her to the bedroom. She rested her head against his shoulder without resistance.

He set her down on the bed, pulled the covers over both of them, and lay beside her. Claire immediately shifted closer, one arm draping loosely across his waist, her face pressed to his chest.

Her breathing evened out into sleep within minutes. Liam stayed awake a while longer, one hand resting on her back, before sleep took him as well.

Morning light moved slowly across the bedroom floor.

Claire woke first. For a few seconds she lay still, feeling the unfamiliar softness of the bed and the deep, dull ache between her legs.

The memories of the night returned in fragments the way he had grown inside her, the force of his thrusts, the orgasm that had left her shaking and squirting across the rug.

A quiet flush rose to her cheeks. She sat up carefully, wincing, and realized she was still naked under the covers.

Liam was already awake, lying on his back. He looked at her without speaking.

Claire pulled the sheet higher over her chest, suddenly shy in the daylight. She didn’t speak right away.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the sheet as she stared at a point somewhere near his shoulder.

”I should... clean up,” she said softly.

He nodded toward the bathroom. ”Towels are there. Take whatever shirt you want from the closet.”

She left the bed slowly, walking with a slight stiffness that made it obvious how thoroughly she had been handled.

The shower ran for a long time. When she came back she was wearing one of his larger T-shirts and a pair of his drawstring shorts pulled tight at the waist.

Her hair was damp and loose. The marks on her neck and the upper curve of her chest remained visible.

They moved to the kitchen without discussion. Liam made coffee. Claire sat and accepted the cup with both hands, holding it close.

For a while the only sound was the quiet of the house. She kept her eyes on the coffee, taking small sips, her posture slightly hunched as if the morning made everything that happened the night before feel more exposed.

Claire’s fingers tightened around the mug. ”It was... huge.” She glanced up at him for only a second before looking down again. ”I can still feel it.”

The silence that followed was heavier than before. Claire shifted on the stool and winced, then tried to hide the reaction by drinking more coffee.

She stayed like that for several minutes, clearly turning something over in her mind. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quieter.

”There’s something I need to take care of later today. It’s not urgent, but I can’t put it off.”

Liam didn’t ask what it was. He only told Claire that she’s welcomed at his place anytime.

Claire finished her coffee slowly, rinsed the cup, and set it in the sink.

She lingered in the kitchen a moment longer than necessary, as if she wasn’t quite ready to leave the space, then went to gather her clothes from the previous day.

When she returned to the main room she was dressed in her own things again, bag over her shoulder.

The shy distance had settled back over her, but it was softer than before less like fear and more like someone who didn’t know how to carry what had happened.

At the door she paused and looked at him.”Thank you for letting me stay,” she said.

Liam gave a small nod.

Claire hesitated, then stepped forward and kissed him once, lightly, at the corner of his mouth.

The contact was brief. She pulled back, gave him one last glance, and left. He watched her walk down the driveway until a taxi appeared and took her away.

The villa returned to silence.

The next two days passed quietly. Vital Restoration had long erased the last traces of Liam’s fight with Dexter.

By the morning of the third day, the bruises were gone, his ribs no longer ached, and his body felt as if the three-hour battle had never happened.

Liam stood before the villa’s floor-to-ceiling glass, a cup of coffee in one hand, watching the private road beyond the gates.

At exactly nine, a figure appeared.

Jack.He walked up the driveway alone, hands buried in his pockets, his massive frame moving with relaxed confidence. Liam was already expecting him.

Three days hadn’t changed him. If anything, he looked even more imposing in the morning light broad shoulders stretched beneath a black shirt straining slightly at the seams, thick arms hanging loosely at his sides like they were built for nothing but breaking things, the tattoos crawling up his neck disappearing beneath his collar.

His heavy jaw carried a faint grin, but there was nothing friendly about it. He looked like a man who enjoyed violence.

Jack stopped at the gates.

Liam set his coffee down and walked outside. He looked small beside Jack but Jack already knew what this young man is capable of.

The gates opened. Jack’s grin widened when their eyes met.”Three days,” he said. ”You kept your word.”

Liam stepped aside. ”There’s a cleared space behind the house.” His gaze hardened. ”No interruptions.”

Jack’s grin slowly became something sharper. He rolled his shoulders once, the movement cracking his neck and shifting the dark tattoos along his throat.

”Good.”

Liam turned and started walking. Jack followed.The two men crossed into the open ground behind the villa one lean and cold-eyed, every inch of him built for precision the other massive, tattooed, and built like a weapon given human form.

Neither spoke again. They simply stopped several meters apart, the morning wind moving through the trees around them, carrying the first hint of the violence still to come.

Jack raised his fists.Liam lowered his stance.

The air between them changed.The promised fight was finally here.