Chapter 1

My girlfriend claimed she had terminal stomach cancer and had been cast out by her wealthy family.

To raise money for her treatments, I worked myself to the bone, even degrading myself in underground dog fights for the amusement of the ultra-rich.

Yet, on the night I was covered in blood and humiliation, I saw my "dying" girlfriend completely wasted, lounging in the lap of New York's top billionaire heir.

"Sierra, when are you going to dump that beggar of a boyfriend?"

"No rush. I haven't had my fill of this game yet."

It had all been an elaborate lie.

I slapped her across the face and walked away with a shattered heart.

Much later, when Sierra was truly on her deathbed, she wept and begged me to make her a bowl of my handmade dumplings one last time.

1

"Look at that fire in his eyes. Let's see if his bite matches his bark. Mr. Thorne's prized Tibetan Mastiff doesn't play nice."

I was on all fours, letting them lock an iron collar around my neck.

Every ounce of my pride screamed in protest, but I had no choice.

Winning this brutal match meant ten grand in cash.

Ever since Sierra was diagnosed with cancer, I had taken on every filthy, backbreaking gig I could find.

I delivered food in blizzards, worked as a bruised stunt extra, and finally entered this sick underground arena where men fought real beasts for elite amusement.

If I won, there was an extra ten-thousand-dollar bonus.

I knew they were laughing at me, treating me like garbage, but Sierra's medical bills were piling up.

Sweat stung my eyes as the massive hound snarled, lunging at me like I was a fresh piece of meat.

I fought with everything I had, wrestling the beast until its fangs tore a gaping, bloody hole into my right forearm.

"Is this guy suicidal? He's actually going to injure Mr. Thorne's dog!" the crowd jeered, thrilled by the bloodshed.

The pain in my arm was blinding, but I locked the beast in a chokehold and pinned it to the dirt.

Lucas Thorne cast an arrogant glance down at the pit.

"Even if the dog rips him apart, a little cash settles it. Fun show, right, Sierra?"

"Stop!"

Sierra never expected that the desperate man fighting a beast in the cage would be me.

Covered in blood, I stared blankly at her sitting in the VIP box, wrapped in the arms of the city's most notorious trust-fund heir.

My supposedly dying girlfriend was chugging expensive champagne, drunk out of her mind.

My vision blurred with fury and despair.

Before leaving that afternoon, I had begged her to rest and avoid anything irritating to her stomach, even freezing dozens of homemade dumplings for her dinners.

"Let me explain, Darren. It's not what you think," Sierra stammered, frantically shoving Lucas away.

She was wearing a revealing designer dress, dripping in jewelry that cost more than my entire life was worth.

A suffocating wave of anger and helplessness choked me.

I swallowed the tears, fighting to keep the last shred of my dignity intact.

"We were just hanging out with friends. Let's go home and talk," Sierra pleaded, chasing after me outside the cage.

"You're bleeding so badly. Let me take you to the hospital."

She reached out to grab my hand, but I jerked away in disgust.

There was nothing left to say.

Did she really take me for a complete fool?