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"Bra." He winked. "Still perky, huh?"
"You're disgusting," I huffed and crossed my arms over my breasts to hide my obviously hard nipples. He still had that damn effect on me, and this was obviously not the first time he'd seen me practically naked.
Fifty-seventh time? Maybe fifty-eighth.
"Says the girl who’s had a crush on me since her first period."
"I don't get periods anymore," I huffed. "Stopped at sixteen, remember?"
"Ya, ya," he brushed off and turned away. "I'm going away."
"I love how you get squeamish whenever periods come into the conversation. You're the one who brought it up."
"Whenever we speak of it, you start discussing stupid shit like how the government is still taxing for pads and tampons while Viagra is tax-free for men."
"I'm glad you brought that-"
He was already walking away, which made it hard for me not to burst out into laughter, especially when he’d originally planned on staying until I was done showering.
"I'll pick you up at eight-thirty tomorrow," he called out. "Make sure you don't sleep in."
"Ya, ya," I called back. "Bye, asshole!"
He lifted his hand to give me a slight wave before turning the corner. I entered the locker room before a few footsteps came from the way I'd come. I knew for sure it was some sneaky photographer. They always walked swiftly if not ran like someone was after them.
All for a photo, though if they got a good shot, they got paid thousands.
Locking the door with the electronic passcode, I turned to view the only luxurious spot in this entire place. The previously rat-infested dump of a room wasn't even close to Viktor's standards, let alone mine.
With a tiny threat that I'd take my plump booty to a different ring if I didn't have a place to change and prepare for my fights, I was gifted this lovely, renovated room that looked more like a spa then a locker room in the depths of the underground.
The black marble tiled floors with purple shimmer was one of the many new personalized touches added to my space. The floors heated during the brisk winters and had a cool function for the dangerous summers. The lockers were black matte and the benches were pink with purple floral designs with black outlining. With big, black mirrors, ceiling showering heads, and a black wood sauna at my disposal, this place was the epitome of Willow's standards.
Anyone who got a chance to view this place got a feel for my vibes, especially with my rather big obsession with exquisite gothic furniture and my usual purple, pink, and black color theme.
Walking to the monitor, I pressed the music button that played my set of favorite music for 2050 on the booming speakers in the top corners of the locker room and in the shower room.
It helped drown out the crowd and potential clashes that occurred after a win. Thankfully none of them would hear my music leaking out of this place. Some sort of cool feature Viktor got installed.
He probably did it himself.
Billie Eilish began to boom through the room, the song, Ilomilo, being one of those jams I couldn't get tired of. It was one of those tracks where I could just let loose and shake my booty after a tense day of dress-up.
Dancing over to the mirror, I looked to see my almost naked body. I always stared into my teal eyes first, the green in them standing out a little more than the blue. My slightly tanned skin always gave off a "rough" look after a crazy night of punches and breaking bones.
Apparently my natural pale complexion against my white flesh made me look Barbie-doll cute, especially with my pastel pink hair with bits of white highlights. With my natural pink plump lips, high cheekbones that always seemed to have a slight shimmer to them, and my obsession with blush, I looked more like a model than the sole female cage-fighting champion three years in a row.
It only took me three months to reach the top. Everyone thought I was a mysterious legacy, especially when none of them knew of my blood relation to De Luca.
During a prime night like tonight, I was Willow. As simple as that. Very few even knew who I truly was aside from the owner of this joint, who I made a billionaire, and Viktor, who had to be around me for the sake of my dad’s orders.
From the words of every person sent to kill me, "I looked too similar to the only son of Roberto De Luca, William De Luca."
That's where my morning role came into play. I used to call it cosplaying because that's exactly what it felt like, aside from magically shifting myself into a boy. That was the single, most powerful benefit I carried and the reason why Papa Dearest kept me close to him.
I could be a boy or a girl.
From the words of the eldest witch in America, my magic was so in tune with my genetic makeup that I could switch my entire body's function from female to male with a mere thought.
