Adrenaline surged. No. I was no one’s victim. I whirled and rammed my elbow back into my attacker. I heard a grunt, but I kept moving, my heart thumping hard.

I lifted my knee, ramming it hard into the guy’s stomach, then I shoved him down. I wouldn’t be anyone’s prey. Not ever again. He hit the mats with a groan.

“Mila, excellent work.”

As my instructor nodded and smiled, I straightened, bouncing a little on my feet. Around me, the rest of my self-defense class were grinning and nodding.

My “attacker” lifted his head. “Why did I volunteer for this again?”

Shay, the instructor, held out a hand and helped the young guy up. “Because you’re my very good boyfriend, and didn’t have a choice.” Shay was a fit, thirty-something with a shredded body I envied. Her black, cropped sports top showed off her six-pack. Her blonde hair was in two long braids.

She looked my way again. “Mila, really great. You did everything exactly as I taught you.”

I nodded, happy to hear her praise. “I have a great teacher.”

Shay’s smile widened. “And you’re an excellent student.”

Because I had no choice. I kept my smile pinned in place. I had to know how to defend myself. I wouldn’t be caught out again.

“All right, everyone.” Shay clapped her hands. “We’re done. I’ll see you at the next lesson.”

I nabbed my water bottle and towel. Slinging the towel around my neck, I took a big swig of water.

The sounds of thuds, punches, and grunts echoed around the gym. Hard Burn was one of the most popular gyms in New Orleans. It was located in a large warehouse in the Warehouse District, and most of the space was filled with roped off boxing rings. A glass wall at the end separated the exercise equipment and weights.

I’d heard there was a wait list to get a membership here. Luckily, Hard Burn also ran some self-defense classes, and I’d managed to nab a spot when I moved here. It was perfect because I worked just a few doors down.

The gym was run by one of the notorious Fury brothers. People loved to talk about the five men. They weren’t brothers by blood, but brothers by choice. I’d heard lots of stories about them, but the most common one was that they’d grown up together in foster care, then banded together to make a good life for themselves.

It probably helped that they were all rich and hot.

One of them also happened to be my boss. He owned the nightclub where I worked, and the bar next door, and two restaurants. In fact, he and his brothers owned the entire block.