The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 151

At seven o'clock sharp, The Gale Fist Boxing Gym was buzzing with energy.

Wyatt was surrounded by a crowd in the center of the room. He leaned casually against the edge of a table, his fingers idly tapping on a pair of dark boxing gloves, the leather gleaming coldly under the overhead lights.

"Mr. Wyatt, are you really not going to hold back later? Your opponent is Kingsley Sherwood!" someone pushed to the front to ask, their tone tentative.

Wyatt looked up, the corner of his mouth curling into a vicious, roguish smile. His voice wasn't loud, but every word was distinct. "I'm going to beat him to within an inch of his life."

A man with a buzz cut immediately clapped him heavily on the shoulder, his voice full of admiration. "That's Mr. Wyatt for you! Ruthless! A real man!"

The surrounding crowd erupted in laughter. Their chatter and jeering mixed together, intensifying the already tense atmosphere in the gym.

Then, Kingsley walked into the gym with Shane, followed by Ethan Sterling and Thurston Fletcher.

The moment the four of them appeared, the noisy venue fell silent for a beat.

Upon seeing Kingsley, Wyatt shot up from the table, his fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. His eyes stared at Kingsley like burning fire, his whole body tense, looking ready to throw a punch the next second.

But when his gaze swept over Ethan, he immediately reined in his aggression and called out respectfully, "Ethan."

He didn't dare act out in front of Ethan. The man looked gentle and harmless, but if he actually got angry, he was more ruthless than anyone.

Ethan's gaze landed on the muscle definition of Wyatt's arms as he spoke indifferently. "It looks like you haven't been slacking off. At least you won't get knocked out the moment you step into the ring."

"Ethan..." Wyatt sounded aggrieved, like a wrongly accused child.

Ethan tossed a tube of specialized ointment from his pocket. "Handle it yourself. Your courage in fighting Kingsley is commendable, at least. Good luck."

While the two were bickering, Kingsley had already changed into his black boxing gear and emerged.

He carried his gloves in one hand, his well-defined fingers idly hooking the laces, while Shane followed closely by his side.

Wyatt saw him and immediately sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. "It's not too late to chicken out. I'm in a good mood, so maybe I'll let you off tonight."

Kingsley glanced up at him, his voice as cold as ice. "I hope you can still be this cocky in a few minutes."

And just like that, he tapped his toe and flipped up onto the ring—smooth and quick.

Wyatt wasn't having it. He matched him with a sharp vault and lands solid on his feet, face to face.