Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously-Chapter 205: Augustine’s world (Part 2)

Augustine led Anne down another hallway—narrow, dimly lit, and humming with muffled roars from below. The deeper they descended, the more the air thickened. The slick elegance of the casino faded behind them, replaced by the pulse of raw violence.

At the end of the passage was a steel door, dented and scarred. Two guards stood in front, faces expressionless. One of them opened the door wordlessly, and a blast of sound and heat hit them.

Anne flinched and clasped Augustine’s arm tightly, her heart sinking.

The arena stretched out before her like something out of a nightmare. An iron cage sat at the center of a sunken pit, blood staining the floor beneath the mesh. Harsh lights buzzed above.

The crowd surrounded the ring—men in suits, women draped in luxury, all screaming and cheering with primal hunger. Some waved betting slips. Others held their breath, waiting for a knockout blow.

Inside the cage, two bare-chested men circled each other like wolves, bodies slick with sweat and blood. Every punch landed with a sickening thud. One man fell, spitting crimson, but the crowd only roared louder.

Anne closed her eyes and hid behind Augustine, only to peek at what was happening inside the ring.

Augustine placed a hand on hers. "This was where I started. Fight and survival. One weak moment and you die."

She looked up at him, stunned. "You fought here?"

He nodded, gaze fixed on the cage. "Night after night. I took hits until my ribs cracked, until I couldn’t stand. But I learned how to make them cheer for me. I turned pain into power. Every drop of blood brought me a step closer to the surface."

Anne’s eyes shone with sheer dread. "So much violence?"

"Because no one gives you a throne in this world," he replied coldly. "You earn it in blood. The man who runs this arena... he was the first to see something in me. He took me in and taught me how to fight. He gave me my first fight, my first control shot. In return, I became his best – the devil. And even now, I owe him more than I like to admit."

He pointed toward a shadowed balcony overlooking the arena. "That’s where he sits whenever he comes here. No one sees him clearly, not anymore. But his reach is everywhere."

Anne followed his gaze, chills crawling down her spine. She couldn’t see anyone behind the tainted glass wall. "You are still tied to him?" she asked carefully.

Augustine didn’t reply instantly, his eyes locking hers. "I left the fight when I started my own business, but he helped build me. I’ll never forget his favor. I owe him my life, Anne. When I had nothing—no name, no future—he gave me a chance. A place to survive. I would’ve died on the streets if he hadn’t picked me up."

He paused, jaw clenching and unclenching with growing restlessness. He was afraid Anne would leave him after tonight and that she wouldn’t accept someone like him, a devil.

But he continued, not hiding a thing. "I don’t run guns. I don’t deal in trafficking or blood money. But I know those who do. I’ve brushed shoulders with devils to build the empire I have now. My world isn’t clean, Anne. It never was."

The lights of the cage cast flickers of red across his face. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff—ashamed, yet unflinching.

"Now you know who the real me is," he said, his voice turning deep. "Are you still willing to be with me? Will you be able to love me the way you did? Will you still be mine?"

Anne reached for him, her fingers curling around his wrist. "You are mine, Augustine," she said firmly. "Whatever darkness you walked through, it only brought you to me. I’m not going to run because your world is like this. You didn’t become who you are by hurting people. You fought to survive. To rise. That doesn’t make you evil."

Emotion twisted in his features. Her acceptance hit him harder than any punch he had taken in that cage. He pulled her close suddenly, his arms wrapping around her like he was afraid she might vanish if he let go. For a moment, he couldn’t speak. He just held her.

Then, he whispered against her hair, "You are the only light I’ve ever known, Anne. Now that you have seen the dark, I’m scared you’ll burn out."

She smiled faintly. "I won’t. I was made for you."

"The Devil has finally shown up here after five years." A voice rolled out like thunder from the dim edge of the arena, where the lights faded into shadow. "Think you still remember how to bleed?"

Anne’s head snapped toward the voice. A figure emerged slowly.

He was tall, every bit Augustine’s height but broader in the chest, with the kind of muscular build that came not from the gym, but from years of real, brutal combat. His arms flexed under the tight black tee clinging to his frame, veins coiling like serpents over hardened skin.

His waist tapered sharply beneath wide shoulders, forming a flawless V that only added to the predatory grace in his step.

His face was cut from stone—angular jaw, high cheekbones, and eyes so sharp they could slice. Cold, calculating. Hawk-like. They scanned Augustine not with curiosity, but with hunger. There was a flicker of something feral in them, like a beast awakened after a long slumber.

A single silver bar pierced his right eyebrow, catching the flickering overhead light. A faint scar ran from the corner of his lip to the edge of his jaw.

Anne felt her stomach drop as he stepped toward them.

"You have gone soft in those penthouses and conference rooms, haven’t you?" he scoffed, his lips curling in a taunting smile. "Let’s see if the beast still has fangs."

He rolled his neck and took another step closer.