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“Making his way to the ring, from Detroit, Michigan, weighing two hundred and sixty-five pounds, he is…Phenomenal X!” the announcer says as we walk down the ramp to my already waiting opponent.
“Stay here.” I kiss Anna’s cheek and leave her in the corner, standing on the floor, before jumping up onto the ring and slipping through the ropes.
My opponent, Dexter, is young and hungry, but he’s no real match for me. He’s about three inches shorter than my six-foot-four stature and I’ve got at least thirty pounds on him. The writers instructed me to make this match seem like a challenge because they have big plans to move this young man up in the biz, and they need the crowd on his side.
I stare down the blond-haired man and turn my head from side to side. The crowd loves these intense showdowns, and it makes them cheer for me even harder. The sound of them chanting my name echoes around the arena and gets my adrenaline pumping.
We begin circling one another, and the kid impresses me by making the first move. We hook up with our arms in a test of strength. At first I allow him to push me a bit to sell it to the crowd, but then he gets cocky and tries to move me into an armbar.
Time to teach this motherfucker who’s boss in this ring. No one attempts to overpower me and get away with it. Company or not, I’m teaching this prick a quick lesson in pain.
I laugh and shove him back hard against the ropes. His eyes widen as I bring a big forearm across his chest and knock the wind out of him, only to pin him against the ropes and say just loud enough for him to hear, “Welcome to my house.”
I hit him one more time before he falls down with a hard thud. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he stares up at the lights burning down on us from overhead.
I reach down and grab a handful of his hair, forcing him to get up. “No time to rest, chump.”
When he stands, I kick him in the shin with my boot and then ram an elbow hard into his gut. He groans and grabs his midsection. The second he bends over, I seize my opportunity and hook an arm around his leg and hoist him up on my shoulders.
The crowd gets to their feet as I fall backwards, slamming Dexter’s back against the mat so hard the entire ring shakes. A collective sound of the crowd empathizing with his pain fills the arena and I know this match is about to end. The kid can’t take much more.
I roll over and pin his shoulders without any resistance and the referee falls to the ground and begins to count.
“One…two…three.”
The place erupts, and I’m unsure how it doesn’t physically blow the roof off the place with the energy radiating off the crowd. I raise my arms in victory as my music plays.
“Winner of this contest is…Phenomenal X!” the announcer calls out, and I smirk at the crowd as if it were even a contest at all.
I strut over to the corner and before I climb up the turnbuckles for my trademark moves after winning a battle, I reach through the ropes. I want to share this moment with her.
Anna stares at my hand with wide green eyes. “Come celebrate with me.”
She takes my hand, and I sit on the rope, widening it for her to get inside as the crowd begins to catcall. My woman is damn fine, and I’m ready for the world to know she’s mine.
Anna sets foot inside the ring with me, and I pull her into my arms, and kiss her square on the mouth for the world to see before I climb the ropes and howl again, suddenly thankful for this amazing life I’ve been given.
The crowd continues to go crazy as they celebrate with me.
After I finish my portion of the show, I help Anna back out of the ring, and we walk hand in hand up the ramp to get backstage.
The moment we pass through the curtain, I pull her into my arms, and she giggles. “That was amazing, Xavier. What a rush!”
I kiss her lips. “I loved having you out there with me.”
“Good,” a cold voice says, interrupting our intimate moment. “From now on she’s a part of the show.”
My gaze jerks over to my boss, who is standing there openly watching us, wearing his silver suit that matches his hair and name with a scowl on his face. I raise my eyebrows and instantly know I’m in deep shit. Mr. Silverman never speaks to the staff unless he’s promoting or firing one of us.
“Come again, sir?” I ask.
He shoves his hand into his jacket pocket. “You took your lady friend out to the ring, inadvertently making her a part of the show. Her contract is being written up as we speak. We can’t run the risk of having you take her out there again without one. I don’t like lawsuits, Mr. Cold.”
I hadn’t thought about that, but I like the idea of her being in my corner every time. “Will she need to sign today?”
“Take her to legal and then hit the showers. I want this taken care of before you leave tonight.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply as he turns to walk away.
Mr. Silverman pauses mid-stride and pivots on his heel. “One more thing. When the writers tell you to do something, you do it. I’m very disappointed that you didn’t give the fans a longer match.”
Fuck.
“It won’t happen again, sir.”
He nods. “See that it doesn’t. I want you following the script to a ‘T’, if you expect to keep your job here.”
“I will. You can count on that.”
That answer seems to appease him, because he smiles before he leaves us. Mr. Silverman never smiles, so it takes me back a bit. That man is always so fucking serious.
