Natalie
Clutching my purse against my chest, I jump up to my feet and narrow my eyes, trying to see who’s sitting ringside. I know that the Gazette’s owner sent Ed some VIP tickets, so I expected him to be sitting ringside; he’s nowhere to be seen, so that means he must be in a private booth somewhere.
“Are you sure about this?” Michelle asks me, slowly standing up and looking at me apprehensively.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” I reply, gritting my teeth and trying to push all thoughts of Hunter and Logan to the back of my mind. The best thing I can do for them right now is focus on the task at hand. “Let’s go!”
Michelle follows after me as we head down the long aisles, hurrying toward a cordoned area.
“Hold on, this is a private area,” a security guy in a black suit stops us, stepping in front of us and staring us down. Thinking fast, I reach inside my purse and bring out my press pass from the Gazette. My departure from the newspaper was so hasty that I didn’t even bother with handing Ed my badge. And thank God for that, or else my plan would go up in flames this very minute.
“I work for the Gazette,” I tell the bouncer, trying to sound as if I’m anxious - which isn’t hard, since I’m definitely very anxious. “There’s been a problem with our recording equipment, and the live stream has stopped. I need to speak with my editor right away!”
“Uh,” he grunts, taking the pass out of my hands and squinting his eyes at it.
“Alright, come with me,” he says, turning his back to me and walking down the aisle. With a parting nod toward Michelle, I trail after him, hardly believing that he bought into my lie. The Gazette is just a newspaper, which means that it’s pretty obvious there’s no live stream going on. Thankfully, this security guy seems blissfully unaware of that little detail.
He leads me up a flight of stairs that seems to never end, and stops in front of a door where another security guy is standing, hands behind his back.
“It’s a journalist from the Gazette,” he announces me, and the guy standing by the door simply nods and opens the door for me. With a triumphant smile, I step inside the room and look around.
There are a few men sitting behind a glass panel, looking at the ring down below, and they haven’t noticed me yet. From where I’m standing I can already see Fat Ed's thinning hairline. I cough into my hand and most of the men look back with a startled expression; gritting my teeth, I take one step toward him.
“You should be ashamed,” I say, looking each and every one of them in the eyes. Aside from Fat Ed, I also recognize Mr. Moreau, the Gazette’s owner, and one more person. He has a scar that goes from his chin to his lower lip, and this time I recognize him almost instantly: it’s Hunter’s agent. As I suspected, these guys must've all plotted together to put Hunter on a warpath.
“Natalie… What the hell are you doing here?” Fat Ed cries out, surprised, and jumps up to his feet.
“You should be ashamed of yourselves!” I repeat once more, allowing the rage to course through me. “You’re the reason they’re down there right now, fighting each other!”
“Calm down, Natalie,” Mr. Moreau starts, standing up as well. “This is just business. It wasn’t personal.”
“Of course it was personal. These men down there are friends… and look at what you’ve done!”
“You still haven’t learned to shut that mouth of yours, have you?” Ed laughs, relaxing now that Moreau has his back. “Of course we were the ones behind this fight. But don’t act so innocent; you helped us, each step of the way. We have been trying to have them fight for ages now, but we only made progress the moment I pushed you into their arms… It was smooth sailing from there on.”
“You sick bastard,” I growl, doing my best not to rush toward him and punch him straight in the face.
“A very rich bastard,” he laughs, one hand over his paunch. “Do you think we care about these two idiots down there? We don’t. But they’re the means to an end…”
“That’s right,” Moreau agrees, an evil glint in his eyes. “We’ve bought stakes in all the companies involved in this fight, and that right before anyone knew the fight was going to happen.”
“Is money that important?” I hiss, now turning my attention to Hunter’s agent. He’s watching the scene unfold with a serene expression on his face, but the moment I point one accusing finger toward him, he narrows his eyes at me and clenches his jaw. “You’re his agent! How could you plot against him?”
“It’s hard being his agent,” he merely shrugs, his voice flat and emotionless. “I wanted to leave him, and what better way to do it than with my pockets full of money?”
“You lied to him…” I continue, realizing that he must have been the one whispering into Hunter’s ears, poisoning his mind.
“And so did you,” he shrugs again, and Moreau and Ed start laughing, their voices making a shiver run up my spine. “Sure, we’ve made this fight happen… We got your little tape, leaked the story, and then we made Hunter believe our own version of events. But you were instrumental to all of it, you’d be wise to not forget about it.”
“You’re going to pay for it…” I whisper, allowing my gaze to linger on each one of them - I want them to remember the face of the woman that’ll bring them down. Without a word more, I turn on my heels and march out of the room, slamming the door behind me.
The moment I’m out of the booth, I start running as fast as I can, doing my best not to twist an ankle as I go down the stairs. Michelle’s already waiting for me there, anxiously tapping her foot against the floor.
“So?”
“Here,” I tell her with a smile, taking my old recorder out from my purse and pushing it into her hands. “Let’s do this.”