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"High stakes, huh?" I grin as I walk over to place our bet with the bookmaker. As the fight continues, my heart races not only from the adrenaline of the match but also from the risk we're taking together. Jasmine cheers on our selected fighter, her enthusiasm contagious.
"Come on, you can do it!" she shouts, her eyes never leaving the ring. The excitement of the moment binds us together, two thrill-seekers in a world of danger and desire.
Of course, Jasmine’s favorite wins, and she jumps to her feet, her hair flying around her wildly and she turns to me, pulling me to my feet in excitement.
When she learns we doubled our bet, she claps her hands excitedly and her arms fly around my neck. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close to me.
The cheers of the crowd blend with the pounding of my heart as our bodies press against each other. Just then, a wave of excitement passes through the crowd and someone accidentally pushes into me from behind.
I stumble forward awkwardly, my hands now resting on her jeans-clad ass. She doesn't move, and I don't want to. A blush spreads down my face, or so I think and her eyes dart to my lips. I want to lean over, take her right here and now, but I don’t.
We've already let ourselves become vulnerable. Simply kissing her here, with so many enemies who could use her against me in the future, would be foolish. Instead, I pull away and give her a high-five and get her excited for the next fight.
As the night wears on, our bets grow bolder, each victory sweeter than the last. We're a team, taking risks and facing the underworld side by side. The connection between us deepens with every bet placed and every punch thrown.
"Wait," Jasmine whispers, her hand gripping my arm. Her gaze is fixated on a fighter in the far corner of the room, a young man who's shadowboxing with intense focus. "Who's he?"
I squint, trying to get a better look at him. He's lean and wiry, his nervous energy visible even from our VIP seats. "I'm not sure," I admit. "Must be a first-timer."
"Let's bet on him," Jasmine says decisively, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. "He's clearly the underdog."
"Exactly. That's what makes it interesting. Plus, look at his footwork," she points. "See how he jumps from left to right and does that angle change so well? He might look small, but he's got more stamina than any guy here. He'd tire out the best fighters, and win on stamina alone."
She grins, and I can't help but be drawn to her daring spirit. It's one of the many things that make her so captivating.
"Alright," I agree, sensing a challenge. "You seem to have a good instinct for this. Let's see if you're right about this one too."
We watch as the newcomer takes his place in the ring, facing off against a much larger opponent. The crowd roars in anticipation, but Jasmine remains calm, her confidence unwavering.
As the fight begins, the tension in the air is electric. The underdog dances around the ring, dodging blows and landing quick strikes. Each hit he lands feels like a personal victory, and I find myself cheering him on alongside Jasmine.
"Come on!" she shouts, her eyes alight with excitement. "Show them what you've got!"
Against all odds, the first-timer gains momentum, refusing to back down while his opponent, the crowd favorite, is beginning to show severe signs of fatigue.
With one final punch, the crowd's energy shifts, and soon everyone is on their feet, caught up in the thrill of the unexpected. As the final bell rings, the underdog stands victorious, leaving us both breathless with exhilaration.
"Unbelievable," I whisper, grinning at Jasmine as we wait for the bookmakers to pay up.
But instead of receiving our winnings, we're met with cold stares and accusations. "You two are trying to pull a fast one on us," the head bookmaker snarls.
"No one wins this big on their first night. It's not possible. You bribed the other guy who was supposed to be the clear winner?"
"Match-fixing?" I scoff, my blood boiling at the injustice. "We don't even know the guy!"
"Doesn't matter," he growls. "You're not getting paid."
"Like hell, we won't," Jasmine snaps back, her eyes flashing with anger.
The bookmakers surround us, ready for a fight. I've faced worse before, but with Jasmine right next to me, I'm worried about the tension escalating, wanting to prevent a situation that can endanger her.
"Back off," I warn the head bookmaker, my anger reaching a boiling point. "The kid won fair and square."
"Seems convenient that you two just happened to bet on him," the bookmaker sneers, his eyes narrowing at Jasmine and me. "We're not paying up."
"Then you'll have to deal with us," Jasmine retorts, her voice strong and steady. She stands beside me, unwavering in the face of danger.
