Piper and the Paparazzi King

Two months ago, backstage at the Dangerous Games live pay-per-view televised event... It was a busy night at Dangerous Games and the reality show cameras were in full swing backstage as the talent prepared for the main show. The live pro wrestling, part hardcore fight brand, was doing their big yearly pay-per-view event at a sold-out arena. The company was now the number one viewed weekly TV sporting event, followed by a tell-all reality show each week. Tonight would be a pivotal moment for the brand to get back on top and ratings to soar. The night’s event would also determine the future of the company and its status with investors. Since the current owners turned the show into a reality-based platform, the fighters’ personal and professional lives have been aired for the world to see, to the delight of fans. Unfortunately, many of the celebrity fighters' personal lives suffered from the reality show curse that plagued many in that corner of the entertainment community. If they were booked for the reality show, it was certain to cause chaos in their lives. Tonight was a mix of both reality and in-ring action. Backstage was a tall woman with a thin frame who grumbled over what she was watching on the monitors. On-screen she watched as the fighting cage hovered above the mat, ready to be lowered for the main event, but in her heart was nothing but detest. The company as a whole had failed to be to her liking, and it hadn’t for some time. Yet, to her darkened joy, a plan to interrupt the main event would change everything. A devious plot that only someone as ruthless as the jealous woman in red-bottom heels and a tight black, couture dress could conjure up. The dress was as black as her heart and twice as revealing, turning heads as soon as she walked into the building. Naomi Collins was a would-be A-list celebrity, and sharing the limelight with any of the fighters or reality show divas was not going to benefit her agenda. All eyes on her were all she cared for. All she wanted. But that wasn’t going quite as planned as of late. Especially considering one of the top fighters in the company was her ex-husband, who was a media darling in most regards. If she wanted to stay on top, she needed to make a statement, and tonight would be the biggest ambush in Dangerous Games history to make that happen. Daughter to the owner, Naomi saw herself as the heir to the proverbial fight club throne and made everyone around her walk on eggshells. With the threat of being fired at any minute, the staff worried that if they even so much as looked at her wrong, they would find themselves standing in the unemployment line. Unlike her father, who was beloved by everyone in the company, she was a thorn in everyone’s side. To suggest she provided a hostile work environment was an understatement. “Are you sure about this, Naomi?” asked the overweight and weasley talent manager whom she had convinced to do her bidding whenever she saw fit. “We could get in real trouble with your father and the board of directors for this.” Tapping her exaggerated pointy nail at his chest, she scolded, “Listen, Mr. Polk, I told your client to do a job. Real wrestling meets street fighting is what we do here. It’s not sunshine and roses once Father stripped the scripted matches from the show and made this place a real fight club. Anyone who steps foot in that ring takes a risk, and you know it. You told me your boy wants to be a heavyweight champ. So, if he wants to be the top dog around here, he does what I say. End of story.” Naomi watched the backstage monitors once more, glaring at her father who was now on set. Just the idea that the cage swinging over the fighting arena wouldn’t touch the ground tonight, annoyed her. She knew the outlandish display was just fanfare set up by her ex-husband to get in the fan’s good graces like he always did. To her, he was nothing but a do-gooder boy scout who happened to be able to throw a punch. Not even a real man according to her standards. In the ring, her famed father was getting the fight fans fired up about upcoming events, making her raise her chin in defiance with a snarl of her ruby-painted lips. She believed it should be her running things, not the old man and her worthless ex-husband. “I want his head. Make him pay.” She gritted her teeth, seething at the thought of her father’s betrayal. “Don’t stop until I hear bones break, and his screams echo across that arena.” Gulping down a tightness that had settled in the overweight manager’s throat, he nodded in reluctant agreement. “But Mrs. Collins, that’s your father out there. He’s not a fighter anymore. He’s an old man and our guy, Titus, could really hurt the guy.” “Good. That’s the plan. I want him to suffer. Some father he is. He’s turning over the company to my suck-up of an ex-husband and wants him to become CEO. I’ll show him. By the end of the night, he’ll regret turning his back on me.” Truth be told, she wasn’t even experienced enough to take over the company. She’d spent her years shopping and having her talons sharpened to dig into the backs of her many lovers. But she didn’t care about that. Her father stepping down meant her time in the limelight would soon come crashing to a halt. Without his power in the business, she was nothing, and deep down she knew it. Stepping up next to them, a ruthless six-foot-five brick house of a man ready to go in to do the dirty deed, rubbed his fist. Ready to do work, he was willing to listen to anything the woman told him to do just to get ahead. “Are you sure about this, princess? When I get in the squared circle, I do damage. Daddy won’t look so pretty when I’m done.” Turning to look over the tall, beefy man, Naomi stepped closer, running her hand over his massive chest while her tongue danced across her ruby-red lips. “Do your job, and maybe we can celebrate later... Alone.” Grabbing her wrist with a little more force than necessary, he growled. “Listen, cupcake. I’m not one of your f**k boys. All I want is the cash and a shot at the heavyweight title. That’s it. I don’t f**k w****s. Keep that s**t in your lane.” Shoving his chest, Naomi was in shock that Titus had the nerve to turn her down. No man did, hence the reason she was divorced. She had a history of sleeping her way through the fighting community, despite how loyal her ex-husband was. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m the most powerful woman in the industry. I’ll be CEO when I’m done here. My father will be out of my hair, and I’ll run this place. If you cross me, you’ll be on the unemployment line.” “Yeah, but you don’t own me. I have a contract, sweet cheeks,” the man ticked, clenching his jaw. “You need me. I don’t need you. Remember that. Just let me do my job and keep that used-up p***y under that cheap knock-off Chanel dress.” Turned back to the set with a huff, she stomped her foot like a spoiled child, arms crossed over her chest. “Fine. Just do your job.” “Do you want him just roughed up a little, or out of commission?” he said, wringing his sports tape-wrapped fist in his palm as if he was warming up to do battle. “I want him to retire for good. Cripple him.” “You’re one ruthless b***h. And what about Ford? You know he’s going to interfere and run out there to play the hero. That pretty boy ex of yours won’t stand around and just watch me destroy his daughters’ grandfather.” Whipping her head in his direction, she almost growled in response to the mention of her daughters. She didn’t have time for a feel-good family moment of reflection. She had work to attend to. “First of all, you-son-of-a-b***h, leave my daughters out of this. Second, do with him what you will. He’s no use to me anymore.” The man with a bald head and massive muscles just gave a hefty chuckle. “You really are a b***h, you know that? That’s your children’s father and grandfather that you want me to destroy, and you don’t give a damn.” “They’re trash, so take out that garbage for me. Do it right, and I’ll throw in a little extra for your efforts.” “$100k for the pretty boy. That’s a discount since I just want to hurt the smug asshole.” “Fifty,” she bargained. “Nah, you’re an heir to a billionaire sports promotor and future CEO. That said… $200K.” “Asshole. Fine. $150k and you break something worthwhile.” “Deal.” As the crowd cheered on the man who was in the ring, talking about the up-and-coming fights, Titus stood bouncing back and forth, waiting for his chance to attack. Punching at the air, he was having the time of his life. When Naomi finally walked away, Vance Polk stepped up next to his client. As a talent agent, he knew this was a bad idea. Even as corrupt as he was, he could see this was wrong. “Titus, are you sure about this? She’s setting you up. What if you get arrested for this?” “It’s in the contract, Vance. We’re golden, baby. They can’t touch us, no matter what I do. Maybe old Wyatt should have thought about that before he made a clause that gave the fighters immunity. He says if you step in the ring, it’s at your own risk. As long as he’s in that arena, I can do whatever I want, short of killing the old bastard.” “Well, keep it that way. If you kill him, that’s still murder.” “I’m not stupid, old man. I’m not risking my future for that greedy b***h daughter of his. I got this. By the end of the night, I’ll rule Dangerous Games and that heavyweight title will be mine. We’ll be unstoppable from here on out.” “Well, get to it, because he’s leaving the ring now. Just... be careful.” “What fun would that be?” Turning to the stage entrance, Titus smirked with devilish glee. “Showtime!”