Bruised Devotion. Bloodsport Kings, #2

He doesn't speak. He doesn't ask. He doesn't need to. Knox is the bouncer at The Rusty Nail-a filthy, neon-lit dive bar in a city that chews people up and spits them into the gutter. Six-four. Two-sixty. Scarred knuckles wrapped in dirty bandages. He hasn't spoken a full sentence in years. He doesn't need words. His fists say everything. Then Sadie walks through his door. She's broke, bruised by life, and desperate enough to take a job slinging drinks in the worst bar in town.
She doesn't notice the massive, silent man watching her from the shadows. She doesn't realize that from the second she crossed his threshold, Knox decided she was his. He doesn't court her. He secures the perimeter. Every man who looks at her too long gets a visit in the alley. Every threat that comes near her disappears. Her tips get bigger. Her shifts get safer. And the giant at the door never says a word-just watches, waits, and bleeds through his bandages for her.
But protection has a price. Knox isn't building a love story. He's building a cage. An invisible prison made of silence, violence, and devotion so absolute it swallows everything-her friends, her freedom, her ability to survive without him. By the time Sadie realizes what he's done, the only person left in her world is the monster who put her there. And the worst part? She doesn't want to leave.