Isabella Swan, sitting in her office at Bull Dog MMA Fighting Club, was trying to make sense of the financial statements. There were some questionable charges on the business account that were raising red flags. She crossed her legs underneath the sleek black desk, wriggling her foot anxiously as she scrolled through pages of charges to the business credit card. With each problematic charge, she grew more and more aggravated. She ground her teeth, trying not to trash her feminine and sexy office.
In a man’s world, a male-dominated sport, she needed femininity. She needed flowers, flourishes, and fragrance. Her office was her own personal Zen, but reading about the top shelf alcohol, an overabundance of food, and several boxes of condoms, purchased by one of her fighters?
There was zero Zen.
Instead, there was the sting of anger and betrayal, to be honest.
“Bella, do you have the paperwork for Emmett?” asked Charlie Swan, Bella’s father, and retired boxer from the doorway of her office.
He was known as ‘Bull Dog’ because of his aggressive fighting style. He was also given the moniker because of the abundance of slobber when he wore his mouth guard.
The drool was real. Disgustingly real.
When Charlie retired, he opened up this gym and it became a family affair. As a little girl and all through college, Bella trained in mixed martial arts, but only fought in amateur bouts when she needed to blow off steam. She mainly handled the business side of the gym. “Little Bell, are you with me?”
“Sorry, Dad,” Bella responded, shaking her head. “What were you saying?”
“Emmett’s paperwork for his fight in Vegas,” Charlie said, arching a brow.
“Right … Yeah,” Bella nodded, holding up a file folder. “It has his credentials, flight information, reservations at the Wynn and schedule for his trip.”
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