"Who?"

Derek didn't answer.

I stepped out of the car.

"Who told you?"

He looked away.

"People who know you."

My heart sank.

"Names."

"No."

"Derek."

He shook his head.

"They said if I could make you react, you'd reveal yourself."

Everything became clear.

The provocations.

The challenges.

The public embarrassment.

The constant pressure.

Someone had been testing me.

Derek had been manipulated.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"Then stop."

"I can't."

"Why?"

He finally looked at me.

"Because they have something on me."

I was silent.

"What?"

"My sister."

I understood.

Someone had threatened his family.

Derek's arrogance suddenly looked different.

Not like confidence.

Like armor.

I told him to come with me.

He hesitated.

Then followed.

At my house, I made coffee.

Derek stared at the old photographs on my desk.

"That's you?"

"Yes."

"You look different."

"I was younger."

He picked up another photograph.

"Who are these people?"

"Students."

"From where?"

"Various places."

He looked at me.

"How good were they?"

I answered honestly.

"Very."

He laughed nervously.

"You trained elite fighters."

"Some."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because it didn't matter."

He stared at me.

Then he asked,

"Can you help my sister?"

I thought about it.

"I can try."

Derek looked relieved.

But I wasn't ready to trust him.

"First, tell me everything."

He did.

There was a private group recruiting talented fighters.

They weren't officially connected to any gym.

They promised money.

Opportunities.

Recognition.

But Derek had discovered something wrong.

People who refused to cooperate were threatened.

His sister had received anonymous messages.

Derek had been ordered to provoke me.

They believed my reaction would reveal my identity.

I looked at him.

"They wanted you to force me into a fight."

He nodded.

"Why?"

"To prove you were who they thought you were."

I sighed.

"Then we need to stop this before someone gets hurt."

Derek stared.

"You really are different."

"How?"

"You don't want revenge."

"No."

"What do you want?"

I looked at him.

"For everyone to go home."

Derek nodded.

For the first time, we understood each other.

Not as enemies.

Not as friends.

Just two men who had been pulled into something neither wanted.

And the next morning, we would face the people who had started it.

Derek arrived at my house before sunrise.

He looked exhausted.

"They know."

"Who?"

"The people from the gym."

I nodded.

"How?"

"They saw me leave with you."

"Then we move carefully."

Derek looked at me.

"You don't seem scared."

"I am."

He frowned.

"You?"

"Everyone should be afraid of consequences."

He seemed surprised.

I explained that fear wasn't weakness.

It was information.

It told you when something mattered.

Derek sat quietly.

Then he said,

"I used to be different."

I looked at him.

"Before the belt?"

He nodded.

"My father was a professional athlete."