Capture. 2

Stacey didn't let it show on her face, but Casey's bold claim had left her thoroughly stunned inside.

Her eldest daughter Ayla took after Stacey's own father, Victor McMahon—and only in the worst ways. She had drive to spare, but she was hot-tempered. That kind of fire might suit marketing, where you needed push, but it made her a poor fit for professional management.

The youngest, Amy, had inherited the cold temperament of both Stacey and her husband, Triple J—Paul Levesque. She was sharp, yes, but far too calculating. Amy herself admitted as much and had long since set her sights on becoming a lawyer or accountant. The ideal path was clear: earn her law credentials and join WWO's legal team.

Then there was the middle daughter, Casey. She had her maternal grandfather Victor McMahon's eye for talent, plus the cool-headed judgment of both her parents. Of the three girls, she was the one best suited to be CEO—which was why she had chosen sports business as her major.

Yet once she actually started college, her interest in wrestling seemed to cool. She almost never came to WWO shows in person. And now that same girl had gone to a live event—at TPA, of all places.

That alone was enough to make Stacey wonder, What wind blew her there? Has she rediscovered her love for wrestling? On top of that, Casey was claiming she had found a diamond. Stacey couldn't help the flicker ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of expectation that rose in her chest.

"Ayla, Amy—keep both eyes wide open."

"Hmph. It's been a little surprising so far, but nothing that special."

"Big sister's right. Other than being rookies and good-looking, they weren't much."

Casey didn't bother answering. She hit play, skipped rapidly through the other matches, and the moment Olivia appeared she set the phone down, folded her arms, and leaned back into the sofa.

"She's enormous."

"Ugh, look at the size of her. She could go toe-to-toe with Nadia Jackson."

Given the bulk and the rough face, she didn't look like a crowd favorite—yet the cheers kept rolling in.

"With that face she's a face? Why is she so popular?"

"Weird. She's not even champion. Is her work that good? Casey, is this the main event?"

"It is. Main event. And it's because of who she's facing next."

"Next opponent? That twenty-year-old?"

"Yeah. It's her debut."

The word debut made the sisters—and Stacey—sit up a little straighter. Before the surprise could even settle, Casey added the rest.

"Olivia's opponent, Charina, has been blowing the roof off in dark matches and house shows. Word got out. That's why the place is packed—people came just to see her debut. Crowds this big at TPA are genuinely rare."

"Really?"

Olivia finished her crowd-working routine in the ring. A hard guitar riff tore through the speakers, and the giant entrance screen lit up with the name Charina.

The roar jumped another level. A few seconds later a woman rolled out on a skateboard.

"What the…"

"Holy—"

"……."

Just as Casey herself had done, her mother and sisters were left speechless. Casey checked her mother's face first. The corner of Stacey's eye seemed to twitch.

If she's already this shocked by the looks alone… once she sees the match she'll be as wrecked as I was. Heh.

"She's gorgeous, no question. Body looks great too. But why is the gear so… covering? She's hiding everything."

"It's her debut, big sister. Once she gets over, the gear will get skimpier. But does the matchup with Olivia even make sense? She looks like pure eye candy."

"You already know how it goes. She works the legs, steals a turn, scissors head-scissors, then sneaks a roll-up for the cover. Am I right, Casey?"

Ayla was reciting the classic lightweight-versus-big-woman formula.

"You think I'd hype something that predictable?"

"No? Then what else is there? Great submissions? Killer kicks?"

"Just watch quietly, sister. You'll see. You'll see…"

"Making her debut tonight—from Orlando, Florida—standing five-foot-five, weighing one-ten—Cha~ri~na!"

The ring announcer's call finished and the match began. Olivia seized complete control from the opening bell. Charina was so light she looked like a paper doll; every move Olivia hit sent her flying with exaggerated impact.

"Ah!"

"Gah!"

"The selling's working, right? The pain face is average, but the sounds are good."

"Those sounds are filthy. Straight-up filthy."

Then came the moment that had floored Casey the first time. Charina bounced off the corner and spilled to the floor; Olivia launched a splash. The camera caught the sell the live crowd had missed—Charina's arms shooting out at the last possible instant to catch her.

Not too early, not too late. Perfect timing. The crowd's collective gasp poured through the TV speakers.

—Oh my god.—

—Oh noooo.—

"Nice catch."

"But those skinny arms holding that? She didn't break anything, but that had to hurt."

Ayla and Amy were trading notes more freely than they had during the Inquisitors match. They sounded analytical, which meant they still weren't fully locked in. Real immersion would have left them speechless.

Olivia dragged Charina back into the ring first, then followed. Charina met her with a neckbreaker off the apron and stole the turn. She caught her breath, hauled Olivia up, planted Olivia's head against her right hip, and set her feet.

"DDT?"

Amy guessed wrong. Instead of sitting out, Charina clamped Olivia's side and hoisted her clean into the air. In a blink the two formed a perfect vertical line—then Charina dumped her over backward.

—THUD—

"D-did she just hit a vertical suplex with that body?"

"W-what kind of strength…"

Charina sprang straight to the top rope in one bound, stood tall, and slapped her palms together, calling for the crowd.

—Clap clap clap clap—

Olivia staggered up. Charina flipped and dropped a neckbreaker.

"Th-that's the Eclipse."

"Eclipse! She just hit the Eclipse! I never thought we'd see that here."

"The suplex was already insane, but the execution on everything is elite. Who would believe this is a debut?"

"Selma and the Inquisitors were already shocking, but this is another level. The Knockouts roster better be nervous—something terrifying just arrived."

Charina went for the cover; Olivia kicked out. Charina shook her head in theatrical despair, then hoisted Olivia onto her shoulders and fell backward.

—THUD—

"Samoan Drop, picture-perfect."

"A hundred-ten-pound frame that looks like nothing but bone, and she's lifting a woman who tops two-twenty… I don't think I could do that. I still can't believe what I'm watching."

Charina stepped off the bottom rope and carved a clean half-moon into a Lionsault. Olivia got the knees up.

—Aaaah—

Charina clutched her midsection and rolled. Olivia staggered up, hit a body slam, and whipped her into the ropes. Charina flattened out horizontally and spun. Earlier Olivia had caught the crossbody clean; this time she missed. Charina's back crashed into her and both went down hard.

—BOOM—

"Corkscrew crossbody!"

"Between the Eclipse and this—our eyes are spoiled tonight."

Breathing hard, Charina rose, clamped Olivia's head between her thighs, locked the sides, and powered her straight up.

"W-what is that?"

"New CGI?"

"I… I've got nothing left to say."

"Powerbomb. How is this even…"

Charina sat out and drove Olivia into the mat. Olivia's arms flared wide for a perfect break-fall; Charina held on all the way down so Olivia's back hit first. If the strength had been lacking she never could have finished the catch—she still had power to spare.

Even watching a second time, Casey was stunned. How were her sisters taking it? How was Mom?

The sisters who had been chattering nonstop now sat with their mouths hanging open. Stacey's expression was no different.

Charina climbed the top rope again—no crowd call this time. She launched backward, spinning through two hundred seventy degrees, legs tucked in a perfect line, then opened them at the last instant and crashed onto Olivia's chest. Olivia's arms shot out a fraction early to catch her.

"Ah—Shooting Star… Press."

Charina hooked a leg. The referee's hand cracked the canvas three times hard enough to split skin.

—Ding ding ding—

"And the winner of this match—Cha~ri~na!"

The hard guitar riff roared back the instant the announcer finished.

"We'd heard the hype, but a debut like this? Never in my wildest dreams."

"An absolute monster just walked through the door."

Then Charina pulled out the infamous spray can and licked the cream straight off it.

"Heh."

"Th-that's… sexy."

The commentators' reaction was one thing; the brief cut to the men in the crowd was pure comedy. Flies could have flown into their open mouths and they wouldn't have noticed. And when she turned, beamed at Olivia, and flashed that bright smile, a whole different kind of charm hit.

"Casey, what even is that?"

"Wow, big sister, the generation gap is real. That's mint-chocolate whipped cream. Looks like Pomonai's—super popular, and delicious."

"Mint choco is good? You're insane."

Unlike Casey and Ayla, Amy actually liked mint chocolate, so she recognized it instantly. Charina smeared a palmful of cream into Olivia's mouth; Olivia recoiled in horror and fled.

"I don't know what it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is, but that color is disgusting."

"Given that Charina's eating it on camera, it can't taste that bad. Still, I'm curious what it actually is."

Casey had no interest in the filler commentary. The second ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Charina's face filled the screen she hit pause.

"So? Still think I was overreacting? Ayla? Amy? What did you think?"

"Sister… that wasn't CGI, right?"

"Amy, that's not like you."

"I know it wasn't, but it's hard ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to believe."

"I saw it live with zero advance warning. Imagine how I felt."

"You must have been completely wrecked. Sister, did your soul leave your body?"

That settled Amy. Ayla still looked dazed, staring only at Charina's frozen face.

"Mom. Are you still not going to demand written statements? They clearly weren't monitoring at all."

"If they weren't monitoring, that's dereliction of duty. If they watched and said nothing, their eyes are rotten. Written statements aren't enough—I should take their resignations. No. Voluntary resignation? Fire them."

Stacey snatched up her phone and dialed.

The news that Casey had attended in person clearly surprised him; a faint "Seriously?" drifted through the receiver.

"Casey, what were the names?"

"Selma. Second was the tag team Inquisitors."

Stacey relayed it the instant she heard.

Stacey paused and locked eyes with Casey for a beat.

Stacey's voice had stayed even the whole call—until that final line, when it dropped ice-cold. When Mom truly lost her temper she only grew calmer. That meant she was furious enough to boil.

Ayla and Amy shot Casey looks that said You're dead. Casey only shrugged.

"Love you, Paul. See you tomorrow."

Stacey hung up, then turned and pulled Casey into a smiling hug.

"My girl's all grown up. You're ready to come work for the company now."