Stella's knuckles smashed into Rocco's gut, forcing him to take a step back as a sharp grunt escaped his lips. But he recovered quickly, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He twisted his torso, throwing a counterpunch aimed straight at her ribs.
She ducked, narrowly avoiding the strike, before shifting her weight onto her back foot and delivering a sharp jab to his side. The impact echoed in the empty gym, but Rocco barely flinched. Instead, he retaliated with a brutal high kick, his foot slicing through the air like a whip.
Stella barely had time to dodge, arching her body backward as his leg passed inches from her face. Her heart pounded in her chest, her instincts screaming at her to move faster. The moment her feet touched the ground, she lunged, grabbing his extended leg and twisting it sharply.
Rocco lost his balance for a split second, but he reacted just as quickly. Using the momentum, he spun midair, yanking his leg free before slamming his elbow toward her shoulder.
Stella barely managed to block it, but the sheer force of the impact sent her stumbling. She gritted her teeth, shaking off the pain, then countered with a devastating sidekick aimed straight for his ribs.
He caught her ankle before impact.
"Too slow," he taunted, yanking her leg forward in an attempt to throw her off balance.
But Stella was faster. Using his grip against him, she twisted midair, wrapping her free leg around his neck in a tight chokehold before flipping him over her shoulder. Rocco crashed onto the mat with a loud thud, air leaving his lungs in a harsh gasp.
Yet, even before he could recover, she was already on him. She straddled his torso, landing a sharp punch to his jaw.
"I'm really mad at you," he grunted, lifting his arms to block the next hit.
"I'm mad at myself too," she spat, swinging another punch—this time, he caught her wrist.
Rocco used his strength to flip them over, pinning her beneath him. He pressed down on her forearms, locking her in place. "What do you mean?"
Stella growled in frustration, lifting her legs and locking them around his waist before arching her back and flipping him off her. She rolled to her feet, panting.
"It's been a month since I started working at Black Stone," she said between ragged breaths, eyes burning with frustration. "And all I've been able to do is catch glimpses of him. And every damn time I see him, he proves he's the worst asshole on Earth. He fired a girl yesterday—ruthlessly. No warning. No second chance."
Rocco sighed, rubbing his jaw.
Then, without warning, he swung a brutal punch straight at her ribs.
Stella barely managed to block it, but the impact sent her skidding backward, pain radiating through her side. She clutched her stomach, glaring.
"First of all, that guy is not your husband," Rocco snapped, his voice sharp. "And second, stop obsessing over him and start worrying about yourself."
That did it.
Her frustration erupted like fire. With a sharp inhale, she pushed off the mat, spinning into a powerful roundhouse kick. Her foot collided with Rocco's jaw, the impact sending a sickening crack through the air.
He staggered back, stunned—but Stella didn't let up.
She lunged, slamming her shoulder into his chest, tackling him to the ground.
Before he could react, she straddled him again, landing a rapid series of punches—left, right, left, right—each one fueled by frustration, confusion, and something deeper she couldn't name.
"Okay, okay—stop! I'm done!" Rocco groaned, lifting his arms in surrender.
Stella, breathless, fell back onto the mat beside him, both of them lying there, their chests rising and falling in unison.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then, Rocco let out a low chuckle, wiping blood from his split lip. "You really don't hold back, huh?"
Stella turned her head to look at him, lips curling into a smirk. "You deserved it."
The weight of unspoken emotions still lingered in the air, but at least for now, the fight had done its job.
"You're strong," Rocco admitted, wiping a trickle of sweat from his forehead. "Simon trained you well."
Stella smirked, stretching her sore arms. "Give me the credit for being a good student, not him."
Rocco chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. But that doesn't mean you get to act reckless."
Stella raised an eyebrow, suddenly remembering his earlier words. "Wait… why exactly are you mad at me?"
Rocco shot her a look. "You went to the black market alone and got into trouble. And you didn't tell anyone."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not a baby, Rocco. I can handle myself."
"I know you can. But Simon made me responsible for you, so I have to deal with you—even though you're an annoying little sister."
Stella paused, the words settling in her chest like a warm ember. It had been a long time since someone spoke to her like this, with familiarity, with care.
A soft smile curled on her lips. "It's been a while since anyone said something like that to me."
Rocco grinned. "Then let me make up for lost time. You're an annoying little sister. An ugly one, too. A total airhead, dumb as a rock, careless, and—"
Stella burst into laughter, shoving his shoulder. "Oh, please. I could come up with better insults in my sleep."
Rocco smirked, then his expression softened. "Just… stop getting into trouble, okay? Be careful. Enjoy your life while you can. The memories you have now… they're what you'll live with later."
Stella's laughter faded into a quiet, wistful smile. She thought of Simon. His words. His touch. The way his voice had wrapped around her like silk and steel at the same time.
After a beat, she spoke again. "Can I ask you something?"
Rocco gave a nod. "Shoot."
Stella hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Simon once told me that when you were… created, Simon had a sister. And that you fell in love with her. But she died, and you never moved on."
Rocco stilled for a moment, his gaze lifting as if looking at something far away. Then, a small, bittersweet smile ghosted his lips.
"Melody," he murmured, the name itself a whisper of something lost. "She was beautiful. Inside and out. Nothing like Simon." A quiet chuckle escaped him, but there was no humor in it—only grief wrapped in time. "When she died, everything felt wrong. I spiraled. Simon and Blake were there, but it didn't matter. I needed her."
He exhaled slowly, rubbing his face before glancing at Stella. "I got a grip eventually. But moving on? No. She was part of my life. She will always be. No woman will ever take that place, no matter how hard they try."
His voice was steady, but Stella saw the way his fingers twitched, the way his shoulders tensed.
Loss did that to a person.
"You wouldn't mind if I asked you another question, would you?" Stella asked, tilting her head.
Rocco gave her a nod. "Go ahead."
She hesitated for a second, then smirked. "So… you've been celibate for, like, a thousand years?"
Rocco let out a deep laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah. Sex is a want, not a need. At least, that's how I see it."
Stella chuckled, leaning back on her hands. "I guess I should take a page from your book then. Maybe it's time for me to let go… just hold onto his memories, like I have these past few years."
Rocco's amusement faded as he studied her. His expression shifted to one of quiet disbelief. "Wait. You mean you're actually going to stop convincing yourself that Simon is alive? You're really moving on?"
She nodded, a small, resolute smile forming on her lips.
For a moment, Rocco just stared at her, then he grinned. "Well, damn. I'm happy for you, Stella." Without hesitation, he pulled her into a firm hug.
Stella felt something inside her loosen—something heavy she had been carrying for too long. Maybe Simon really was gone. Maybe she had to accept it. But that didn't mean he had to disappear completely. He could still live through her memories.
"Alright, I'm out of here," Rocco said, grabbing his duffel bag.
Stella gave him a small wave as he left the boxing room. She remained on the mat for a moment longer, staring at the ceiling, letting herself breathe. Then, with a deep sigh, she stood up and headed back to her flat.
Maybe this was the start of something new.