Reborn To Remarry My Ex Husband by Erin Green

Chapter 401 Reborn To Remarry My Ex Husband Chapter 401 Doesn't Count He lifted his phone, his voice sharp and controlled. "Jake, ignore what Melody said." "The rules allow any form of combat. When she challenges you to box, use judo instead. Aim for her weak spot, and finish it quickly." "You'll win." Robson's expression remained neutral, but he fully grasped the weight of his orders.

For Jake to win by deception would destroy everything Melody had worked to uphold.

It wasn't just about her, either. If Jake followed through, it would tarnish Cleussau's reputation-a nbuilt on fairness and integrity.

The institution itself would becthe very force to shatter the principles it once stood for.

On the international stage, Cleussau's prestige and influence would collapse. Its legacy would beca laughingstock.

But what did it matter? If his daughter claimed victory, if Melody's sacrifices amounted to nothing, Cleussau's standing and the justice it symbolized could burn. None of it mattered to Robson. Parents always make selfish choices for their children.

His instructions went straight to Jake through the earpiece. Jake stood rooted, his eyes dark and unreadable. He didn't respond right away. Instead, he remained silent.

Melody finished her speech, and Bernard, quick to act, stepped forward. He carried two pairs of boxing gloves. These weren't ordinary gloves. They were custom-made, one-of-a-kind.

The bright red fabric featured cheerful cartoon designs hand-drawn by Melody herself. The personal touch gave them an oddly tender charm.

Jake accepted his pair with a fleeting hesitation. They felt unfamiliar in his hands, their weight oddly significant. His gaze sharpened as he studied them.

The gloves weren't just any gloves-they belonged to Spencer. A delicate purple cartoon unicorn was embroidered on them with meticulous care. The design was so precise. It was clear that whoever made it had poured hours into the task.

Jake stared at the stitching for a moment, his thoughts briefly snagged.

Something about the design stirred a faint sense of recognition.

After a pause, he slipped them on.

To the audience, this action seemed to confirm his agreement to Melody's terms: a fair and straightforward boxing match. Robson, sitting nearby, absently adjusted the strap of his luxury watch.

His outward calm betrayed nothing, but his mind was focused.

If Jake executed the ambush as planned, he'd not only win the championship but also secure the coveted Veinspire Codex.

Victory was just a breath away.

The arena pulsed with energy, the crowd alive with anticipation. The Moores had worked quickly, ensuring the new octagonal cage was ready without delay. Melody and Jake stood across from each other, their eyes locked.

Their faces bore the evidence of the fight-braises darkening beneath the harsh lights, cuts scattered like battle scars. Exhaustion clung to them, but neither wavered.

The referee stepped forward, raising his hand to begin the match.

But Jake's gaze shifted.

For the first time, his eyes softened, holding a strange, almost tender light. The look was so at odds with Jake's usual stoic demeanor that it froze Melody in place. He said nothing, yet his expression spoke volumes.

Melody's heart clenched unexpectedly.

The way he looked at her... it was eerily familiar.

It reminded her of Martin. She could almost see him standing there, holding her hand as he walked her hfrom kindergarten.

The swarmth, the squiet joy, the ssense of unspoken love.

Her lips parted. The nrose unbidden. "Mar..." Martin! Why did Jake's eyes mirror her brother's so vividly? Before the thought could fully form, the referee's voice broke the moment.

"Begin!" Melody snapped back to reality. The pause was fleeting, gone before anyone noticed. She launched forward, her fists and feet a flurry of movement.

A straight punch followed a sharp kick, each aimed with precision.

Jake met her attack, countering blow for blow.

Their movements were fluid, their skills undeniable. The fight unfolded with an elegance that belied its brutality.

The audience leaned forward, their excitement palpable. Each strike, each dodge, drew gasps and cheers.

Melody felt her strength surging with

every exchange. This was boxing at its purest-a contest of skill and m determination. No shortcuts, no En: deception, just raw talent. The scoreboard ticked upward, their scores climbing evenly. Seven to seven.

The tension mounted with every point.

Then, in an instant, Jake shifted.

He spun, his body coiling like a spring, and aimed a sharp elbown strike-one perfected through Blaze Combat-toward Melody's back. The move was lethal, a tactic that could end the match. But it would also destroy the integrity of the fight.

A victory achieved this way would

not only dishonor Jake but bring shto Cleussau itself. Anom institution built on fairness would crumble under the weight of betrayal.

Jake's earpiece crackled with Robson's voice.

"Jake, do it!" Robson barked, the words biting. "This is an order." Jake froze, his arm poised to strike. For the first time, hesitation flickered in his movements.