Aria

21- Aria ( NEW )

"You hit like your sister," The Executioner mocked with a grin, her mouth guard looking to leave her swollen lips when she expressed her rubbish opinion.

I bounced backward, then froze like an ice cube when her ridiculous, taunting accusations hit me—she said, my sister.

She knows I have a sister?

Which one of my sisters is she referring to? And how does she know who's related to me when I had just recently found out there are two of them out there? Then Walter's allegation immediately returned to my mind, a claim I wished to have kept buried deep inside me, hoping he was wrong about something for once. 'Felicia's your sister, and she, too, is a fighter.'

"What's the matter, Aria? Are you upset that you're weaker than you thought?" she mocked again before her glove met my face, knocking me to the ground.

"What the fuck are you doing, Aria? Get back up and fight the bitch!" Neron yelled. "You're not here to make us all look like fools. Now get the fuck up!

'You hit like your sister,' repeatedly replayed in my mind as I stared at the mat, my ears focused on Neron yelling at me and his warnings about how he'll discipline me for my lack of focus and what I'm allowing my challenger to do to me.

My head turned toward Gunner when the referee began counting down, and he didn't look happy with me. He was standing, ferociously waving his arms upward, yelling and begging that I stand and fight—and win. And then my eyes flickered to The Executioner after hearing her taunting, evil laughs. So before the referee got down to zero and I gave her the win, I quickly dug my gloves into the mat, pushed up, and shoved the referee away from me as I stood.

"Are you coming back for more of me?" The Executioner evilly smiled, smiling like Ursula, the sea witch. "Because if you are, you'll be sorry."

"Not as sorry as you'll be," I taunted in return.

She swung, I blocked, and then I surprised her with the combo Gunner insisted I do—the one, two, five, two-hit combo... knocking her down to the ground.

But it did nothing as he thought it would.

The Executioner laughed while standing back on her feet. "You must have studied the tapes to know that usually gets me. I will say that was good, but not good enough to end this fight," she mocked, using her glove to wipe the drool mixed with blood away from her mouth. "As I stated earlier, you hit like your sister." She laughed. "And you're exactly like her—pathetic and weak."

We circled the mat, our eyes directly on one another, with our fists up held up to protect whatever jab came our way, and the arena was louder than it was moments earlier from the spectators chanting for me to finish her.

I wanted to make those chanting fans happy and end this fight, but I wasn't ready.

Not just yet.

Not after she mocked me again with her ridiculous claims, and because of that, I was now more than curious to learn more about what The Executioner knew about the girl I hadn't seen since her first birthday. I wanted to know her fighting name—to see if I had fought her in the past and if she was the one who confronted me in the restroom back in Texas. And for personal reasons, I wanted to know where I could find her.

"If anyone is pathetic, it's you," I responded with a quick double punch to her stomach. "What do you know about my sister?" I asked as she bounced backward.

She returned with a right-handed jab to my face. "Apparently more than you."

"Who is she?"

She laughed, refraining from answering me.