Kreg looked stunned as he stared at Stephen standing in front of him, breathing heavily in the middle of the office. For the first time since he had taken control of Game Changer Promotions, he felt something unfamiliar tighten in his chest. Fear. Not the distant, manageable kind that came from rival deals or negotiations gone wrong, but something far more immediate and visceral.
This was not a situation Kreg had ever imagined himself being in.
Those who wanted to rise in the world of boxing knew better than to cross him. They begged, negotiated, bribed, and pleaded, but none of them dared to threaten him directly. Anyone foolish enough to try usually learned very quickly who stood behind Kreg and the promotion he ran. The gangs. The syndicates. The silent hands that ensured problems disappeared before they ever reached his door.
And if that wasn’t enough, then examples were made.
Chris had been one of those examples.
Breaking his legs had not been done out of anger, but efficiency. A message. Pain traveled fast in their world, and fear traveled even faster. That message was supposed to spread, trainer to trainer, fighter to fighter, until no one dared to push back again.
Yet here Stephen stood.
There was something different about him, something Kreg hadn’t accounted for. As he looked into Stephen’s eyes now, he realized the truth with unsettling clarity.
This man was already broken.
Stephen had already lost everything that mattered to him. His dream of becoming world champion had been crushed long before this moment, and the man responsible was sitting right in front of him. Whatever moral lines Stephen once held onto had long since been eroded, ground down by betrayal, fear, and regret. Right now, Stephen had nothing left to protect.
And that made him dangerous.
Before Kreg could say another word, Stephen lunged forward and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt. With one powerful hand, he yanked Kreg up and over the desk as if he weighed nothing. Papers scattered across the room, a chair screeched backward, and Kreg let out a startled cry as his feet left the ground.
"Judging by your words earlier," Stephen said, his voice low and shaking with rage, "it sounds like you really did meet someone who came here before. A guy with a limp. Greying hair. You dealt with him, right?"
Stephen leaned closer, his grip tightening.
"You dealt with him nicely, didn’t you? Then you chucked him onto the side of the street like garbage."
Kreg struggled in his grasp, his face twisting in fury and panic. "What do you think you’re doing, kid?" he shouted. "You’re ruining your life!"
Stephen didn’t hesitate. He dragged Kreg fully over the desk and slammed him onto the floor. The impact knocked the air from Kreg’s lungs, forcing a painful grunt from his throat. Stephen followed him down, pulling his upper body slightly off the ground, his fist hovering inches from Kreg’s face.
"I’m going to ruin my life?" Stephen snapped. "Are you an idiot?"
His fist trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer force he was holding back.
"You already ruined my life," Stephen continued. "Long ago. You meddled in it, twisted it, and threw it away like it meant nothing. I did everything you asked to protect him."
His voice cracked, the anger boiling over.
"And then what do you do? You go and touch the one person, the only reason I complied in the first place! How stupid can you be?"
Stephen’s fist came down hard.
The punch landed cleanly on Kreg’s face, snapping his head to the side as blood immediately spilled from his mouth. A sharp cry escaped him, followed by a choking laugh.
"Haha... haha..." Kreg coughed, blood dripping down his chin. "You idiot. You have no idea what you’ve just done."
Stephen didn’t respond.
Kreg continued, his voice thick with pain but still filled with venom. "You’d better finish the job. Do it properly, just like I did with that idiot before. Otherwise, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!"
Stephen answered him with another punch.
This one crushed Kreg’s nose with a sickening crunch, blood spraying across the floor. Kreg screamed, clutching at his face as his body convulsed.
"I’m not letting you go," Stephen said coldly. "Not even if you beg. You ruined everything. Boxing was my life."
Another punch followed, this one slamming into Kreg’s chin. His eyes rolled back as his body went limp, consciousness leaving him completely.
Stephen froze.
"No... no!" he shouted, shaking Kreg violently. "You don’t get to be let off that easily!"
He grabbed Kreg by the hair, yanking his head back, and hauled him to his feet. Stephen drove his fist into Kreg’s stomach, forcing a violent groan from his throat as he partially regained consciousness.
Kreg slumped forward, barely aware of what was happening.
Stephen hoisted him up and slung him over his shoulder with practiced ease. His breathing was heavy now, his chest rising and falling as he marched out of the office.
Down the stairs he went, each step echoing through the building.
"If you try to move," Stephen warned, "you might fall to your death. So it’s in your best interest to stay still."
A commotion erupted throughout the building. Employees and fighters alike stared in shock as Stephen descended with Kreg draped over his shoulders. No one dared step forward. They could see it in Stephen’s eyes, one wrong move, and Kreg would be thrown down the stairs without hesitation.
The crowd parted.
Stephen exited the building and walked into the car park, his boots striking the concrete with purpose. Reaching the street, he hurled Kreg forward and let him crash onto the asphalt.
Kreg groaned and struggled, managing to push himself up onto his hands and knees. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable now.
He reached for his phone, but before he could move, Stephen’s foot came down hard on his calf. Bone cracked beneath the pressure, and Kreg screamed.
"You dropped Chris on the side of the street," Stephen said. "So I’m doing the same."
His voice lowered.
"You didn’t kill him. And I don’t think I can go that far. I won’t become the same as you."
Stephen stepped back and then charged forward, delivering a brutal kick to Kreg’s head. The impact knocked him unconscious instantly, leaving his body sprawled across the road.
Stephen turned and walked away.
Behind him, Kreg slowly stirred, his vision blurred, staring at Stephen’s retreating back.
You should have killed me, he thought.
I’m going to make your life hell.