Chapter 41

Laura's POV

I wiped the sweat from my brow, my breathing heavy as I stared at the punching bag in front of me. My arms ached, my legs burned, and every inch of me screamed in protest.

This was torture.

I hadn’t even wanted to be here. And to make things worse?

The bastard was my damn trainer.

I should have known. I should have suspected the second he insisted on dragging me here. But I had stupidly assumed he’d dump me with some grumpy old man in a gym and leave me alone.

But no.

The moment I stepped into the training hall after changing, there he was, standing in the center of the mat like he owned the damned place

"You're late," he had said, arms crossed, amusement flickering in his cold eyes.

And that was how my nightmare began.

Now, after what felt like hours of push-ups, punches, and kicks, I was done.

My limbs gave out, and I collapsed onto the mat, sprawled out like a starfish. "I hate you," I muttered breathlessly.

Kelvin crouched beside me, his expression annoyingly calm, barely a drop of sweat on him. "You keep saying that," he mused.

I glared at him, trying to muster enough energy to throw a punch at his smug face. "Because I mean it."

"You'll thank me later."

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Doubt it."

He nudged my leg with his boot. "Get up."

"Go to hell."

"We’re just getting started."

I peeked at him between my fingers. "You're joking."

His lips curled in a smirk. "Do I look like I’m joking?"

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I groaned louder, throwing my arm over my eyes. "I swear, if I survive this, I’m going to kill you in your sleep."

His chuckle was low, amused. "Noted. Now, up."

I didn’t move.

"You have five seconds, Catalina."

I still didn’t move.

"Five… four…"

I let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

"Three…"

"Ugh, fine!" I sat up, dragging myself off the floor. "Happy?"

He tilted his head, eyes flickering over me. "Getting there." Then he tossed me a pair of boxing mitts. “Put them on.”

I groaned. “More?”

He arched his brow. “Did I say we were done?”

I glared at him as I strapped on the mitts. “You’re a sadist.”

He smirked. “And you’re out of shape.”

I scowled but said nothing. I knew better than to cross him when he was capable of ending my life without hesitation. He stepped closer, towering over me as he adjusted my stance. His touch was firm, guiding, but it sent an annoying heat up my spine.

“Feet apart,” he murmured, fingers grazing my waist as he pushed me into position.

I sucked in a breath, my heart hammering for no good reason.

Focus, Catalina.

“Alright,” he said, stepping back. “Come at me.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

He smirked. “Hit me.”

I hesitated. “You want me to hit you?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

He only stirred at me, not answering.

Oh, you asked for it.

I swung. As fast and as hard as I could. But it was like nothing as he dodged effortlessly, sidestepping like it was nothing.

I swung again and missed. Why the hell was I training with someone who was a thousand times better? Wouldn't a step by step leveling up be more reasonable?

He smirked. “Too slow.”

I gritted my teeth and went for another punch. He blocked it, twisting my wrist just enough to throw me off balance.

I stumbled, cursing under my breath.

“Again,” he ordered.

I exhaled sharply and reset.

We went again. And again. Each time, he dodged or countered, pushing me until my muscles burned with exhaustion.

“Frustrated?” he teased.

I threw a punch.

He dodged.

I swung again.

He side-stepped. He always had fun taunting and tormenting me.

Now was no different.

In my tiredness I overheard a sort of scuffling. But I was too tired to care.

I cared though about how it caught his attention and distracted him.

His head turned slightly, his focus shifting for a fraction of a second.

It was an opportunity to finally show him.

I lunged.

But Kelvin, damn him, reacted faster.

His arms wrapped around me as he lost his footing, and the next thing I knew, we were falling.

I landed on top of him, my hands braced against his solid chest, my breath knocked out of me.

Everything stilled.

His body was warm, firm beneath mine, and his scent, dark spice and something distinctly I didn't recognise, wrapped around me.

I swallowed hard.

His hands were on my waist, holding me there.

I needed to move. Now.

I pushed up, but his grip tightened.

“Kelvin—”

Before I could finish, his fingers slid into my hair, tilting my head back.

Then his lips crashed against mine.

Heat exploded in my veins.

I gasped, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss, his mouth moving against mine with raw, unfiltered intensity.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow.

It was commanding, overwhelming, dangerous.

My mind screamed at me to stop.

But my body?

It melted into him.

A thousand thoughts ran through my head at once.

Why was he kissing me?

Kelvin wasn’t the type to act without reason. He was methodical, calculating…always in control.

So why now?

Was this a distraction? A test? Or something else entirely?

His lips moved against mine with a possessive hunger, a slow, deliberate claiming that sent shivers down my spine. His grip on my waist tightened, keeping me pressed against him, as if daring me to move.

And when I finally did, when I tried to pull away, to regain some semblance of control, he bit my lip.

He fucking bit me and I could taste the metal tinge in my mouth from my blood.

I sucked in a breath, my pulse hammering, and that was all the invitation he needed.

He pulled me back down, crushing me against him, his fingers tangling deeper into my hair. The heat between us crackled, a wildfire spreading, and my resolve crumbled like ash.

I should stop this.

But when he kissed me like that, like he owned me, like he’d been waiting, it was impossible to think.

All I could do was feel.

And gods, I felt everything.