Betrayed by My Ex, I Rebuilt a Combat Empire to Claim It All

I was kicked out of the gym I built with my bare hands, all because my girlfriend—the club's legal representative on paper—brought in some slick Wall Street hotshot.

As the actual controlling owner and head coach, I had spent the last three years in the shadows, turning a rundown, bankrupt dump into a cradle for champions.

Today, my girlfriend, Chloe, walked into my office with her arm linked through his.

The man kicked a heavy bag with the tip of his Italian leather shoe and let out a derisive snort.

"This is it? No wonder this dump has only produced regional champs."