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I managed a stiff shrug. “Because it’s my job.”

“Yeah, but why do you specifically want to be paired up with him?” Holt asked again, leaning forward in his seat as he eyed me with eager fascination.

I suspected his empyn senses were tingling, so I locked down my emotions and shot him a dry look.

“Because I’d like the chance to prove that I am perfectly capable of keeping my… personal feelings about Burke separate from my work,” I said smoothly.

Holt snorted. “Sure.”

I decided to go a different route, one that I knew he would respond to. “You know the crowd would eat it up. I could mock his”—I waved a hand—“entire ridiculous persona before the fight. The audience loves my brand of smack-talk.”

I am ravenous to rip him apart. Tear him to shreds with some cutting words. I’ll knock him down a peg or two.

Holt snorted. “Keeping those personal feelings really separate, huh?”

“He’s a roller-skating disco ghoul,” I said flatly. “Of course his wrestling persona is ridiculous. That’s an objective fact.”

Holt pouted. “I like roller skating. I mean, I like watching it. And I love disco. You don’t like disco?”

“I can’t say I’m all that familiar with it,” I told him politely, then tried to get him back on track. “So, next week. Me and Vince. And I win. Yes?”

“Hold on, I haven’t agreed to it yet.” Holt frowned. “It doesn’t seem like a great idea to pair you up so soon after court. Tayl—my anonymous source told me things got pretty vicious yesterday.”

“This would be an excellent way for us to… work through our differences. We’re both capable of remaining professional.” I felt a little sick saying something even mildly positive about Vince. “Which means we will work together. It could help.”

Not that I had any fucking interest in building any kind of relationship with Vince.

“Mmm, I guess…” Holt still didn’t sound convinced. “Or the match could be a total shitshow.”

My nostrils flared, spine snapping straight. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t allow it.”

“On the other hand, all that animosity could make it electrifying…”

I suppressed my satisfied smile, feeling more in control for the first time since yesterday. I could get people to do whatever I wanted with the right tone and words. It was one of the first things Mother had made sure we were taught as boys.

Plus, I was fae. We were calculating by nature.

“We could even make it a running feud.” My lips wanted to curve into a vicious smile. “Create a storyline around it.”

And it would let me tear him to shreds on a regular basis. In a place where I couldn’t get… distracted.

“Hmm.” Holt cocked his head, doodling a swirly T in the corner of the notebook page. “We haven’t had a new feud storyline in a while…”

“Vince and I haven’t had one before, so it’ll be something new.” I tossed my hair back as I waited for Holt to realise how good my idea was.

He pursed his lips in thought, then cocked a brow at me. “Your voice sounds a little hoarse. Is your throat sore? If you’re getting sick, you have to—”

“I’m not.” Only years of practising how to remain calm and composed in front of an audience stopped the heat flooding my face. “I’m fine. Perfectly healthy.”

“Okay, but if you start feeling sick, you have to go home. I can’t have you wiping out the whole team.”

“I don’t get sick.”

His brow quirked as he started doodling again. This time it was a little cock and balls. I finally let myself roll my eyes.

“So,” I said decisively. “Vince and I will fight next week. And I’ll win.” I made sure to reiterate that very carefully.

It was all scripted and rehearsed, but it would still feel good to beat him. Satisfying.