Chapter 1 - THE BRIEFCASEThe heavy bag swung back toward Cole Maddox, and he drove one final left hook into its leather belly.
THUD.
The chain above him rattled.
Sweat ran from his short brown hair down the side of his face. His white hand wraps were darkened around the knuckles, and the muscles in his shoulders tightened as he caught the bag with both hands and stopped it from swinging.
That was enough.
Tomorrow night, nearly eighteen thousand people would fill the arena to watch him fight Darius Kane for the heavyweight championship.
Tonight, Cole wanted silence.
His private training room inside the upscale Las Vegas boxing club usually gave him exactly that.
Then he heard the door open.
Cole didn't turn immediately.
Only six people were supposed to have access to the room.
His trainer.
His cutman.
His manager.
Two members of the gym staff.
And Cole himself.
The footsteps behind him belonged to none of them.
Expensive shoes didn't sound like sneakers on rubber flooring.
Cole slowly turned.
Roman Drake walked into the room as though he owned the building.
At forty-six, Roman had the smooth confidence of a man who had spent half his life discovering that most people could be purchased and the other half learning what to do with those who couldn't.
His black shirt was open at the throat, exposing tattoos curling across his neck. More ink covered his hands and forearms beneath the sleeves of his tailored dark suit.
Two large men followed him inside.
They stayed near the door.
Cole glanced at them, then back at Roman.
"Private workout."
Roman smiled.
"So I've heard."
He carried a black briefcase.
Cole's gaze dropped toward it.
Roman walked to the wooden table beneath the wall where Cole's championship belts and amateur medals were displayed.
He placed the case down.
Click.
Click.
The latches opened.
Roman raised the lid.
Bundles of cash filled the interior.
Cole stared at it for less than two seconds.
Then he looked at Roman.
"Tomorrow," Roman said, "you lose."
Cole said nothing.
Roman pushed the briefcase across the table.
"All of this is yours."
Cole walked toward his water bottle.
He took a drink.
Roman watched him.
"You aren't going to count it?"
"No."
"You're not curious?"
"No."
Roman smiled again.
"I like you, Maddox."
"That's unfortunate."
One of the men near the door shifted his weight.
Roman didn't look back.
"Three million dollars."
Cole wiped his mouth with the back of his wrapped hand.
"I heard you."
"Three million dollars for something fighters do every night."
"Lose?"
"Exactly."
Cole gave a dry laugh.
Roman leaned against the table.
"Just take one fall."
Cole looked at him.
"I don't throw fights."
The smile disappeared from Roman's face.
The change was small.
That made it worse.
Roman straightened.
"You know who you're defying?"
Cole tightened his wrapped fist.
He thought of the years he had spent fighting in half-empty casinos and county arenas.
He thought of cracked ribs.
Broken noses.
Bad promoters.
Cheap motels.
He thought of his mother sitting ringside at almost every fight.
He thought of Ethan.
His brother's photograph was not on the wall.
Cole could never bring himself to hang it in the gym.
"Tomorrow," Cole said quietly, "I'm not losing."
Roman's eyes narrowed.
Cole stepped closer.
"I'm knocking him out."
For several seconds neither man spoke.
Then Roman slammed the briefcase shut.
BANG.
The sound echoed through the training room.
Roman approached until only a few feet separated them.
He didn't touch Cole.
He didn't need to.
"You really dare to defy me?"
Cole's jaw tightened.
"Looks that way."
Roman studied him.
Then his anger disappeared.
A cold smile replaced it.
That frightened Cole more.
Behind Roman, the two men moved.
One stepped to the left side of the doorway.
The other stepped to the right.
Together they blocked the exit.
Cole looked toward them.
Roman followed his gaze.
"You want to win tomorrow?"
Cole looked back.
Roman lowered his voice.
"First, make it to the ring."
Cole stared at him.
For the first time that night, something cold moved through his stomach.
Roman picked up the briefcase.
He walked toward the door.
The two men followed him into the hallway.
Roman stopped on the other side.
He looked back at Cole.
"Think about the money."
The door closed.
Cole waited.
Then he heard a metallic click.
He walked over.
Turned the handle.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Locked.
Cole stepped back.
Someone had locked the training room from the outside.
And suddenly the threat felt very different.
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Because Roman hadn't come to buy a fight.
He had come to prove he could reach Cole whenever he wanted.
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