Chapter 618

When Cotton spoke, Donald turned to Charlotte, studying her calm expression. His brow furrowed. Did she even realize how bold she sounded?
Cotton was one of his own, a special forces soldier he’d trained from scratch. Maybe Cotton wasn’t the absolute best in The White Whale, but his skills were nothing to sneeze at. Sure, Charlotte had talent. She’d pulled off some impressive moves and even managed to take down a national kickboxing champ. Still, if she went up against Cotton, there was no question she’d end up losing.
“Don’t get too cocky.” Donald stayed where he was, his eyes locked on Charlotte’s face, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. “Cotton doesn’t know how to pull his punches. If you get hurt, it won’t be a small deal.”
“Donald’s right.” Cotton, suddenly praised, straightened up with a proud tilt of his chin. His tone was heavy with meaning. “If you get so much as a scratch, I’ll have a hard time explaining it to the higher-ups.”
Cotton figured that was the end of it and started to turn away, but Charlotte’s voice cut in, clear and unbothered. “So are you fighting or not?”
“What?” Cotton was caught off guard.
“Either fight me or admit you can’t and let someone else step in.” Charlotte lifted her chin, her lips barely parted. The smile in her eyes was cold enough to send a chill down his spine. “Don’t waste my time.”
Cotton hesitated, glancing at Donald for direction.
Donald pressed his lips together, sharp features unreadable. After a few beats, his deep voice broke the silence. “Fight her.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cotton had been waiting for a chance like this. If Donald himself said it was fine, he could go all out. If she wound up with bruises, it wasn’t on him.
“Let me show you what real kickboxing looks like.” Cotton’s
confidence was obvious as he took off his whistle and hat, rolling his shoulders and bringing his fists up in a ready stance. Just don’t start crying later.”
Charlotte just pressed her lips together, her pale fingers brushing the brim of her cap. Instead of
taking it off, she pushed the net
lower her smile soft but icy. “You’d better hope you’re the one who doesn’t end up crying.”
Before the last word had even faded, Charlotte raised her hands. In a flash, her fist whipped past Cotton’s cheek, missing by only a couple millimeters.
Cotton jerked back, his face
changing instantly. He hadn’t expected her to be so quick. If he hadn’t moved just in time, and if she hade held back at the last second, that punch would ve landed right on his face.
And that was just her opening move. He’d seriously underestimated her.
Cotton squared up, pushing away his earlier doubts. He set himself, eyes locked on Charlotte, ready for whatever she’d throw at him next.