018

Kaitlynn Stryfe had been completely removed from the media spotlight since her match against Jennifer at Conviction, an event that had occurred nearly two months ago. The best doctors that money could buy had been paid quite handsomely to stall as long as they could before signing the documents that made it possible for her to legally compete at Unstoppable 3. Everyone knew she'd been already advertised to appear in the Main Event— a match that was quite reminiscent of the one she competed in at Unstoppable 2— although this was a championship scramble with the FFW Championship on the line as opposed to an Elimination Chamber. She should have been sweating over the prospect of facing Scarlett Kincaid and Emma McNamara as well as two women she considered friends, yet the thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

To say she was preoccupied with other, more personal matters would have been the understatement of the millennium. Even the lovely view of the Eiffel Tower from the same room the Stryfes had honeymooned in back in May of 2010 did nothing to lift her spirits. She still felt the last vestiges of that rift between herself and Alex, despite her best efforts to prove that her dalliance with Christian Kincaid had been an isolated mistake that she would never be repeating. Having him back in her life was the most important thing to her, leaving the wrestling to fall by the wayside. She was certain that Samantha would have her head if she knew how little preparation she'd put forth for what had been certainly stacked in the Power Trip's favor.

She was leaning on the railing on their balcony, sipping a glass of 25-year-old vintage Petrus Merlot when she heard the door to the suite open and then close. She was soon joined by her husband, whom had been more than preoccupied himself in the weeks since Conviction, given the shooting of one Anthony Gambini. A Bluetooth attached to his ear, he was obviously in mid conversation as he came in. "—that's fine. I want that video put under every possible scan there is. You either need to tell me who shot him, or tell me there's no way anyone can ever find out by watching it. If there is a video editing program out there, I want it used. This is an urgent matter, and it should be given top priority."

He had been somewhat distracted for some time now, outwardly cool and collected but inwardly absolutely furious that Anthony Gambini wasn't dead. That would have made this much easier, as far as he was concerned. "I can't keep stalling these investigators forever; they are already filing a motion to have me release the footage. I don't want to do that till you can assure me one way or another."

Kitty took another leisurely sip of her wine, her golden eyes fixed on her husband, listening closely to the conversation. He'd been making calls like this for weeks— she could clearly see the emotional toll the entire situation was having on him. Even knocking on death's door, Anthony Gambini was still managing to loom over them like a dark cloud.

"What? No. At this point, I don't care if you can prove Parker did it. That's irrelevant now. Right now, I'm more interested in you proving to me who didn't do it." He let out a rather long sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head as he took a seat on a nearby recliner. "I can produce witnesses who say they saw whoever did it, depending on who it is. All I need is the proof. Either prove that to me, or prove to me that no one can ever tell who did with that video. It's very simple. Thank you." He snapped rather curtly before touching the button on his earpiece.

Slowly, she moved towards her husband, reaching out and touching his arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. "Alex, is everything alright?" It was clear from what she'd overheard that it wasn't, but she was offering him a sympathetic ear to vent to.

"No, it's not. I have paid these people quite a bit of money to do a very simple job. And none of them are getting back to me with any form of results. I've gone through five video production teams, having the goddamned video scanned again and again to see if anyone could make heads or tails of it. And no one can give me a definite answer, just 'I don't think it can be recovered.' That's not good enough. I want a guarantee." He grew silent for a moment, closing his eyes and pulling the Bluetooth out of his ear and turning it off. "Even when he's been shot, Anthony Gambini is still a damn nuisance in our lives! What on Earth do I have to do be rid of him once and for all?!"

"The only way to be rid of him truly would be to kill him, darling." She said it flippantly, as though she was making a joke, even though she was completely serious. "There seems to be a little bit of hope in what they've told you. If five different teams have told you they don't think the image can be recovered, perhaps they're right."

"I need them to be positive. I can't take the chance." He looked up to her for a moment, reaching up and stroking the back of her hand. "I did try to have him killed, the only problem was the one who was supposed to do it got hesitant for the first time in her miserable life.. And now I need to find out who did shoot him, and make sure it isn't who I fear it is."

"I'm not his biggest fan by any stretch of the imagination," she said softly, closing her eyes for a moment as she cast her mind back over the last few months of her life. "But I don't think he's foolish enough to have done something like this."

"I do." Alex said quietly, looking down to the floor. "Jacob has quite the temper; I know how far he will go when he's pushed. I've seen it, because he's been that way with me in the past." He shook his head, just the thought of it causing him to rub his forehead. "Gambini's already cleared Megan, and I can't imagine why he would. And now the authorities are asking Jacob to remain in Denver for the time being. They are trying to build a case against him, my attorneys all agree. That video is the only way to prove he did it or didn't do it. He has been quite supportive of me; he's apologized to you for what he did. He needs us. And I always repay my debts."

She stood there in silence for a moment, processing what he'd just said. "Have you talked to Jacob? Asked him why he went into that locker room in the first place?"

"No, I haven't spoken with him. I'm positive the phones in his hotel room have been tapped, he's being sequestered in Denver." He rose up out of his seat, rubbing his fingers against his forehead again. "If I go to see him, it's only going to cause more problems. And I'd rather not give the authorities any more possible ammunition. And there's..." He cut himself off, looking back to his wife. "You could go see him. You could go talk to him, and find out what he knows."

She nodded slowly, effortlessly following where his mind was going, "do you think he'd actually talk to me?"

"I am fairly sure of it. Because surely he knows as well as I do what is being done. They don't ask people not to leave the city unless they have a reason. And since he is the only one actually visible on that video before the shooting and with Megan now cleared by that thug, he's prime suspect number one. I am positive he has information that could be useful. And right now, it's not as though he has a lot of options if he wants to avoid being charged with this." He seemed a bit calmer now, the idea having helped to bring his nerves under control a bit more. "And while you do that, I will make some arrangements just in case all of this fails. I'll help him flee the country, but that is a last resort."

"I'll do that, should go without saying, darling... I'll do anything for you. All you need to do is ask." She favored him with a loving smile, "but what about us? If you arrange to have him disappear, don't you think they'll immediately turn their eyes to you? Perhaps even me? We also had motive in wanting that sadistic piece of shit dead."

"As I said: last resort. I'm confident this can be sorted out without going to those extremes. Besides I doubt he'd agree to it even if I suggested it. I'll book you a flight to Denver, and I'll return home. When you're done, join me?" He asked, though he already knew the answer. Slipping his arms around her in an embrace, he pressed a kiss to her lips. "I could ask for no one more perfect..."

She almost purred at the compliment, melting like butter in his embrace. "Nor could I," she replied with that satisfied little smirk on her lips before she returned his kiss with more fervor.

"And one way or another, you have my word that Anthony Gambini will be dead and buried when this is all said and done. And we shall have a waltz on his grave." He added as the couple engaged in another more involved kiss.