Some bad decisions come with title belts. Mine is six-foot-two, the U.S. heavyweight champion, and built to break every rule I made to protect myself. A bad relationship forced me to start over.
New city. New job. New life. And one rule above all: no professional fighters. Then my ex shows up and makes a scene. My best friend’s brother steps in. Throws one very public punch.
And suddenly the internet thinks we’re engaged. Meet Leo Carver. Heavyweight champion. Human wrecking ball. My fake fiancé. Up close, Leo is unfair. Thick arms. Controlled hands.
A body built for impact. Exactly my kryptonite. Now we’re living together. Pretending for cameras. Pretending not to notice how real this feels. I barely survived one fighter already.
I should know better than to fall for another. But Leo Carver doesn’t fight fair.
