Get in the ring, Daddy.

CHAPTER 1 - A FIGHT TILL DEATH DEAL.

🦪 DORA 🦪

“You have just signed a fight till death deal, where only one of the two players would get out of the ring alive… congratulations.”

“There are three cards that signify different meanings. The BLACK card is the most common; it’s the one you get when you get invited to a fight. This BLACK card comes with a written letter, the time, and the location for your pickup, and at that exact time, you’ll be brought to the fighting ring where you’ll fight until one of you dies. After this fight, the sum of 50 million dollars is given to the winner in cash, alongside 50 investors’ 1-kilogram gold bar, which weighs about 32.15 troy ounces, with an approximate value of $130,000 - $140,000.”

“The RED card. Not very common, it’s only given to players who have hit the top list and survived several fights. The RED card means the final fight, a fight with our top 1 fighter. This RED card comes with a dagger. If you win, you become our top 1 fighter, and only fighters who hit the top list get to fight you, until you lose and die, and the winner takes your spot. After this fight, the sum of 500 million dollars is given to the winner in cash, alongside 50 Iconic 400-ounce bars, which weigh about 27.4 pounds, with an approximate value of $1,600,000 - $1,700,000, depending on the moment’s market price.”

“And finally, we have the UMBRA card. Very rare! This card is black in color and has UMBRA boldly spelled on it with blood, so it stinks. The UMBRA card means elimination; it means UMBRA will find you and kill you, no matter what it takes. You only get this card when you break the rule.”

“The rule is: ‘Never back down from a fight.’ When you get this card, you get nothing and lose your life. Once again, congratulations! And thank you for signing a fight till death deal.”

  🦪

My eyes shot open as the conversation that ended my sanity and safety replays in my head, my brain settling on the fact that my arms felt tied and numb.

I look down to find my hands bound to each other, so were my legs, and I am in a car that seems to be in motion.

I look up to find him, the one person I hate so much in this world, my father's best friend, Dale Lazarus, sitting behind the steering wheel, oblivious to the fact that I am awake and want him dead.

He's twice my age, I'm eighteen, and he's thirty-six, and all the days of my life, I've tried to get rid of him, but nothing worked.

He was my father's best friend, so I call him Daddy too. My father demanded it, stating it isn't too bad to have two fathers and that Dale Lazarus is a good person.

And although the word daddy leaves my lips now and then, I hated him. Whenever I feel his stabbing gaze on me, I feel strange, uncomfortable, and unsafe.

I just knew deep down that he wanted me, even though he tried his best to hide it.

And I hated that fact; I hated that he chose to hide something so obvious, just as I hate him.

He chose my father over any feelings he had for me and buried them.

My father, his best friend, mattered more; he chose to suffer and ignore me than disappoint his best friend.

And I hate him for it!

He should have chosen me first. Then maybe, just maybe, our relationship would have turned out different; it wouldn’t be this damaged.

I've never felt love and obsession, and just when I thought I'd feel one, he chose to shove his feelings into a box and then buried it under a tree.

Buried me! under a tree.