Falling For My Accidental CEO Husband-Chapter 310: Fighting

Three Months Later

The crack of her elbow against Dale’s forearm echoed through the sparring room and even though he stepped back, he didn’t flinch as he waited for her to come at him again.

Ella pivoted, her breath shallow, and drove her knee upward. Dale caught it mid-air, twisted her off balance, and shoved. As expected, she rolled once across the padded mat, came up on one knee, almost snarling under her breath.

Her braid was unraveling. Her leggings clung to her thighs, soaked in sweat. But she didn’t stop."You’re off center again," Dale said as he stepped towards her, extending his hand to help her up.

"I’m compensating for the ankle," she snapped, standing as she moved away from him.

"That’s an excuse. Compensate better."

She came at him. Fast. This time she led with her right fist, then feinted. Her left hand dipped into the band of her sports bra and pulled out the lipstick tube. She twisted the base. Blade out.

She slashed upward—short, clean arc toward his ribs.

Block. Counter.

He deflected it with the padded mitt, but barely. The force had made him shift his stance and even though he knew it was quite impressive, all he said was, "Better. But you’re still aiming like you expect them to block. Don’t. Expect. Anything."

She responded by lunging again, her shoulder knocking against his chest. She brought the blade close—tight to his side, near the kidney. He froze mid-motion. Impressed each time by her growth. Tap.

"Kill zone," she breathed.

Dale didn’t comment. He took the weapon from her hand, twisted the blade back in, and tossed it on the bench. "Next."

Ella grabbed the garrote choker.

He watched her fasten it, his eyes fixed on her neck as she rolled it once and moved closer, giving her the opportunity as well as the challenge to come at him. She struck and within a moment, the garrote was off her neck and looped around his throat. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel-com

This time, her movement was exact.

Her forearm locked. Her body shifted, anchoring the force. The wire pulled taut across his windpipe. He raised a hand in tap and she loosened her hold. "Clean execution. Again."

They reset. She did it once more. Then again. Each time quicker, smoother.

By the fourth round, her chest was heaving. He stepped away. "Drop it. Bracelet."

She unclasped the dart cuff from the case and snapped it around her wrist. Familiar now. Dangerous. "You’re at a party. No backup. Someone comes close-drunk, aggressive. Blocking your exit. Go."

He advanced.

Ella stepped backward. Calm. She let her hand fall naturally, then flicked her wrist and triggered the mechanism.

The dart shot forward and struck the dummy at his side.

"Thigh," she said, breathing hard. "Slower absorption, but enough."

Dale retrieved the dart, examined the angle, then handed it back to her without a word. "Again."

She fired. This time it landed dead center in the neck. "Efficient," he said. "But you flinched."

"I didn’t flinch."

"You blinked. That’s hesitation."

Her jaw tightened. "It won’t happen again."

"See that it doesn’t." Dale snapped at her, before handing the next weapon. The hairpin.

She slid it out of her hair, spun it once between her fingers. As Dale closed in, she dipped low, dodged, then lunged and aimed for his shoulder joint.

Tap.

"Cartilage," she said.

"Deeper next time. You want it to lock the muscle."

"I’m not strong enough for that."

"You’re quick. Make up for it."

She nodded. No protest.

He nodded toward the stiletto.

Without a word, she bent, unscrewed the heel of her right boot, and revealed the hidden blade. She adjusted her stance. Waited.

Dale motioned. "Your target thinks you’re defenseless."

"I’m never defenseless," she said, lunging.

He dodged. She followed with a twist, knife aimed at his thigh. Then pulled back at the last second and pivoted. Her foot came down hard-heel striking where his knee had just been.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Blade faint. Impact follow-through," he said. "Smart."

Her lips curled slightly. "You’re welcome."

"Don’t get cocky." Ella rolled her eyes. Dale Brown gave praise as if each word cost him a billion dollars. He was nothing but a miser. Done with the last weapon of all, she waited patiently for his next instruction.

Instead, he looked her over methodically in assessment and quiet calculation.

Then he nodded. "You’re ready."

Ella stilled. Did she hear him correctly? "That’s it?"

"You want applause?" he asked, tone dry.

"No," she said. "I just thought you’d take longer to say it."

"You’re effective. You’re precise. You’ve internalized the tools." He paused. "Your survival chances just improved."

She rolled her shoulder, wincing at the bruise blooming under her collarbone. "So, what now?"

He crossed to the bench and unzipped a new case. "You’ve already been summed up by them as you’ve ben moving withing the circles for the last three months. Until now, they have not had any contact with you becaused your ’bodyguards’ have stopped them. This shows them that Aiden values you enough to keep you guarded. But after tonight, we will give them a chance to contact you and break through so that we can get onto the next plan."

Ella nodded slowly. Inside her, a knot twisted as anticipation, tension, and something like electricity seemed to be warring within her.

But her face gave nothing away as she moved towards the small leather pocuh on the table and collected all the items that had been thrown about haphazardly by Dale just now.

Once everything was in place, she zipped the pouch shut and straightened, wiping her hands on her thighs as she looked at her things and said coolly, without looking up at Dale, "Well. Since training is complete, I assume I can rest for now."

Dale didn’t answer.

She turned slightly, caught the flick of movement across the room.

He was at the other bench , the one he kept separate from the sparring gear. The one he never opened during weapon drills. Ella’s eyes narrowed.

Then she saw it - a thick, gleaming black chain.

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