The arena was massive.
Adam stepped onto the stone platform, his eyes sweeping across the colossal structure. The towering walls, the intricate carvings, the sheer scale of it—it really did feel like a Colosseum.
He let out a low whistle. "Damn… this place is huge."
But that wasn't why he was here.
Today was the day Mark was going to get his ass handed to him.
Not just a simple defeat—a beating so bad he'd curse the day he was born.
Adam grinned. He couldn't wait.
Gloria, standing beside him, let out a sigh. "Are you sure about this?" she asked, arms crossed. "Now that you're close to Blackveil, and with my brother and your mother back, don't you think it's time to let bygones be bygones?"
Adam's smirk didn't waver.
"Nah."
His voice was casual, but his eyes were cold.
"Mark hurt Aria. If luck wasn't on our side that night, we would've lost her. And you think I should just let it go?"
Gloria pressed her lips together but didn't say anything.
