Chapter 13
Brody
Graham’s text lit up my phone: Need to discuss postponing the fight. Important developments.
I stared at the screen, my fighter’s instincts catching the subtle urgency beneath the professional tone. I’d been halfway through wrapping my hands for a training session, the familiar ritual suddenly meaningless as I read the message again. The wrap dangled forgotten from my wrist, the fabric rough against my skin.
Another text followed: Bring Drake. Make it look like a meeting about postponing the fight.
“Drake!” My voice echoed through the home gym, bouncing off the mirrors and equipment. “We need to move!”
Drake appeared in the doorway, gasping from running down the stairs. He took one look at my face and was already reaching for his keys. “What’s wrong?”
“Graham needs us at the office.” I grabbed my jacket, mind racing with possibilities, each worse than the last. “Something about Scarlett’s meeting.”
The drive to the office felt endless. Drake stared silently out the window, his profile tense against the passing buildings. The weight of unspoken fears filled the car like a physical presence, making it hard to breathe.
Georgia met us at the executive entrance, her professional smile masking concern that set my teeth on edge. “Mr. Holland, Mr. Richards - I’ll escort you to Mr. Clarke’s office.” Her voice carried perfectly for any observers as she led us toward the elevators. “He’s very interested in discussing the venue concerns.”
In the elevator, she dropped her voice to barely a whisper. “April’s already up there. The cameras in Graham’s office are disabled - intellectual property concerns.” She gave us a meaningful look. “Please try and maintain a disinterested look.”
The mezzanine level stretched before us, all glass walls and watchful eyes that made my skin crawl. Through the windows of Graham’s office, we could see him at his desk, the picture of corporate authority as he studied something on his computer screen. Only someone who knew him well would notice the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped his pen too tightly. The sight made my stomach clench.
Georgia ushered us inside, closing the door with a soft click. Graham stood, extending his hand in a perfect show of professional courtesy. “Mr. Holland, thank you for coming on such short notice.” His voice carried just enough for anyone watching through the glass walls. Then he pressed a button on his desk, and privacy screens whispered down over the windows.
April knocked at the door and Graham waved her inside. After looking at her and then back to us, the change was immediate. Graham’s corporate mask cracked, revealing raw fear beneath that made my blood run cold. “We have a serious problem.” He kept his voice low despite the privacy. “The CEO wants Scarlett back in A-List. Today. It is only a staff meeting but CEO wants to know how much she remembers.”
My fighter’s instincts screamed danger, the Beast inside me already pacing, ready for a fight we couldn’t give it. Beside me, Drake’s fingers twitched, tapping his knee in that nervous pattern he got when he was trying to maintain control.
“I don’t like it,” I growled, keeping my voice low but unable to hide my anger completely. “We can’t let her go up there alone.”
“She won’t be,” April said. “I’ll be with her.”
“No offense, April, but if something goes wrong…” My hands clenched at my sides, imagining all the ways this could end badly.
“That’s why you’re here.” Graham’s voice remained carefully controlled, though I could hear the strain. “We need a reason for extra security presence today. Your fight postponement provides perfect cover.”
Drake looked up from his now open laptop. “I’ve got the venue’s concerns drafted. Very official, very urgent.” His eyes met Graham’s. “Enough to justify multiple meetings throughout the day.”
A soft knock preceded Georgia opening the door. “Special Agent Reeves is here for his scheduled security meeting.” Her tone conveyed volumes about the ‘scheduled’ nature of this visit.
Graham nodded, smoothly transitioning back into his corporate persona. “Send him in. He should know about the fight postponement anyway.”
Reeves entered with professional courtesy, his presence bringing a subtle air of competence to the room that somehow set my teeth on edge. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” His smile was genuinely warm as he noted April’s presence. “Just finished reviewing those security protocols you asked about.”
April brightened visibly. “Thank you so much for your help with that. The new system is so much more efficient.” She turned to Graham. “Special Agent Reeves helped me reorganize the entire security protocol database last night. It would have taken me days on my own.”
“Happy to help,” Reeves replied modestly. “Sometimes fresh eyes can simplify things.” He glanced at our group. “I take it this is about the upcoming fight?”
“Actually,” I leaned forward, forcing myself to play along, “we’re thinking of postponing. With everything happening…” I gestured vaguely, maintaining the professional facade while wanting to punch something.
Something flickered in Reeves’ eyes - satisfaction? - before he smoothed it away. The expression was so quick I might have imagined it, but it made the Beast growl. “Of course. Whatever makes everyone most comfortable.” He turned to April, his voice softening. “We should discuss the staffing arrangements. Perhaps over coffee?”
April glanced at her phone when it buzzed with a text. “Christian says he and Stewart will be working late again. I’ve not had any word from Rory… So weird.” She paused and let out a sad sigh, looking up at Reeves. “That would be helpful, thank you.”
“I should head out,” Reeves said, checking his phone. “Got a call about a witness statement downtown.” He moved toward the door, though something in his casual tone struck an odd note that made my skin crawl.
Graham waited until Reeves stepped out before turning to April, his voice barely above a whisper. “Remember - she must remain completely blank no matter what surfaces in there. Text Georgia the moment the meeting’s wrapping up. Not a minute later.”
April nodded, clutching her tablet tighter as she hurried to catch up with Reeves.
Through the glass walls, we watched April and Scarlett approach the elevator. My hands clenched at my sides, every protective instinct screaming to follow, to protect. Scarlett’s spine was ramrod straight, her professional mask firmly in place as the elevator doors closed. The sight of her disappearing made my chest physically ache.
“We need to appear relaxed,” Graham said, loosening his tie slightly. “Lunch at Lorenzo’s. Directly across the street.”
Drake raised an eyebrow. “Public enough to be seen, close enough to respond.”
“Georgia,” Graham called softly. She appeared in the doorway instantly. “The minute April texts…”
“I’ll alert you immediately,” she finished. “I’ve got eyes on the elevator from my desk and Walter will watch the stairwell, too. We know how fond she is of taking the stairs.”
The walk to Lorenzo’s felt endless, each step taking us further from Scarlett. My skin itched with the need to turn around, to run back, to protect what was ours. The restaurant buzzed with the usual business lunch crowd, their table perfectly positioned to watch the office building’s entrance. The normalcy of it all felt wrong, like a mockery of our fear.
“The carbonara here is excellent,” Graham said, his voice carrying just enough for nearby tables to hear. We fell into careful small talk, discussing training schedules and venue logistics with deliberate casualness while my heart hammered against my ribs.
A young woman approached our table, phone clutched excitedly in her hand. “Oh my god, you’re Brody Holland! Could I possibly get an autograph?”
I shifted into my public persona smoothly, offering a practiced smile that felt like it might crack my face. “Of course.” I signed her phone case with the perfect mix of friendly and professional, answering her questions about my next fight with carefully vague responses while inside the Beast paced and growled.
Drake maintained his promoter facade, making notes on his tablet about potential venue changes. Graham fielded a work call, his corporate mask never slipping. But our eyes never stopped tracking the building entrance, the minutes crawling by like hours while my muscles coiled tighter with each passing moment.
Graham’s phone buzzed - Georgia’s text. His expression didn’t change as he glanced at it, but his napkin landed on the table with precise finality. “Shall we head back? I’ve got another meeting at two.”
We maintained our unhurried pace back to the office, though every step screamed to move faster. The Beast in me growled silently, counting the seconds until I could ensure Scarlett was safe.
The elevator doors opened, and Scarlett strode past us toward her office, heels clicking against marble in perfect rhythm. Her spine remained ramrod straight, face impossibly blank. The sight of her made my blood run cold. April trailed behind, her own expression carefully neutral though her fingers twisted anxiously around her tablet.
I moved instinctively toward Scarlett’s office, but Georgia’s hand caught my arm. “Mr. Holland,” she said, voice carrying just enough for curious ears. “Let me handle the follow-up. Appearances, remember?” Her fingers squeezed my arm meaningfully before releasing me.
Minutes stretched like hours before Georgia returned with Scarlett in tow, April hovering anxiously behind them. The moment Graham’s office door closed, my heart clenched. Something was devastatingly wrong.
Scarlett stood just inside the doorway, that perfect corporate mask still firmly in place. But her eyes… They swept over us with mechanical precision, acknowledging our presence while remaining disturbingly distant. Like she was looking through glass at strangers who merely resembled people she knew. The sight made me physically ill.
“Ms. Swanson,” Graham said carefully, maintaining our corporate charade. “About the venue changes we discussed…”
She nodded, the movement precise and controlled. Too controlled. Her hands lay perfectly still at her sides - no fidgeting, no natural movement. Just stillness. The kind that came from holding yourself so tightly together that a single breath might shatter everything. I recognized that stillness from after her attack, and it made the Beast roar with helpless rage.
Drake shifted forward slightly. “Cheri…” he whispered.
Her eyes flickered at the nickname, but that perfect mask never cracked. She was locked somewhere behind walls of ice, and we couldn’t reach her. Not here. Not now. The distance between us felt like miles.
“I’ll keep her busy with contracts this afternoon,” Graham said, his corporate tone belying the worry in his eyes. “We can wrap up the venue discussion tomorrow, gentlemen.”
My hands clenched at my sides, the Beast roaring to break through this carefully maintained facade and grab her, hold her, demand to know what happened up there. But I forced myself to nod professionally, though it felt like my jaw might crack from the effort.
“Of course,” I managed. “Drake will send over the paperwork.”
April and Georgia immediately flanked Scarlett, their voices light and casual as they discussed lunch options. The perfect picture of everyday office life while escorting her back to her office. But April’s eyes met mine briefly, carrying volumes of unspoken concern that made my stomach turn.
Graham walked us to the elevator, maintaining professional small talk until the doors closed. The moment we were alone, I slammed my fist against the elevator wall, the pain barely registering through my rage.
“What the hell happened up there?” I growled, the Beast finally breaking free in my voice.
Drake grabbed my arm before I could strike again. “Not here,” he warned, nodding toward the security camera.
The drive home was torture, silence heavy between us. My knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as city streets blurred past, each mile taking us further from her when every instinct screamed to go back. Whatever happened in that meeting had locked Scarlett behind walls we couldn’t breach. And someone was going to pay for that.
The Beast paced beneath my skin, rage building with every passing minute. Someone had hurt her. Again. And this time, there would be no holding back when we found out who.