the world revolves around you, you think you're untouchable—”
“I am untouchable.”
Maybe I was a little too cocky, but it was the truth. I am untouchable. No one matches me in the ring, and no one touches me out of it. I know I might be going a little crazier than I should be, and yeah, getting blackout drunk isn't good for anyone's image, let alone mine, but you're only young once. Why not live like it?
Slowly, he lifts his head and looks at me. Daniel doesn't say anything, he just glares at me with beady black eyes, and a scowl on his face. Shifting his gaze, he nods toward the chair.
His silence jars my nerves slightly because I have no idea what he's thinking. Daniel is a man with no filter. He speaks when he feels he should, he says what's on his mind, he never holds back.
So the fact that he's currently mute, his eyes a dark shadow of insanity as the orbs dance in the sockets, I know whatever is in his head isn't good.
Taking the seat, he pushes the newspaper across the desk. “Did you see this?” he asks, tapping the paper. “Take a good look.”
“What is it?” Scanning the paper, I see my face from last weekend. I remember that night; well, most of it.
It was one of those nights where shit starts to fade and blur after midnight. Full images become blips as time tears into bits and nothing is certain. But the night ended with me throwing some asshole into a dumpster after beating his ass.
“Yeah, and? Why are you showing me this?” Shoving it back in his direction, I fold my arms across my chest. “I like having fun, Daniel, what's so wrong with that? You never went out and had fun?”
Gritting his teeth, his voice comes out torn and shredded between angry breaths. “This ends today. There won't be any more of this shit.” Slamming a single finger down on his desk, his head tilts slightly. “I'm done cleaning up your messes, Phade—done.”
“Cleaning up my messes? Daniel, you might own me in the ring, but you don't actually own me. I fight for you, I don't live for you.”
A sly smile spreads on his face as he wags a finger in the air. “That's where you're wrong. You signed a contract, that makes you mine. I own you, I own everything about Phade Manson.” Pushing back from his seat, he rests his arms behind his head. “I'm not bailing you out ever again. It ends now; all the partying, all the late nights, the drunken fights, everything. Your wild days are over.”
Scoffing, I veer my stare and snap. “You can't tell me what to do. I signed a contract for the ring, that's it.”
“Fighting outside the ring is a breach of contract. I can rip up your contract and find someone else if I want to. You broke your word, legally I could drag you through the mud. I can drop you, I can end all of this for you with the snap of my fingers. I can take everything you own—all of it, and wipe my ass with your face.” Tapping his finger against his chin, he's twisting side to side in his chair. “But, I don't want to do that. I want you to stay, I want you to be better, to fight harder. And I know how to fix you and your image. I've thought long and hard about this, and it's going to smooth over all these headlines. You'll be back on top, in the good graces of the world.”
Rolling my eyes, I can't pretend he sounds interesting. He's being fucking ridiculous. But I'm going to play his little game and see what he has in mind for me. If nothing else, I'll at least get a good laugh out of this.
“And what the hell is that?”
Daniel smirks as he leans over his intercom and presses the button. “Carla, we're ready now.”
“Alright, Mr. Cross,” she says, her voice holding a slight crackle as it comes out of the speaker.
Daniel's eyes instantly jump to the door, so I turn in my chair to look. The door opens slowly, and my heart jumps into my throat. I can't think straight, I'm excited and shocked all at once.
Holy shit. . .
It's her.
Rubbing my eyes, I'm not sure if I'm still drunk and dreaming, or if I'm really sitting here, face to face with her.
“Phade, meet Sylvia Fontain.”
The shyness I saw in