hello hello hello, my beautiful friends. okay, so, until very recently, i was so convinced that i was never going to be writing a Roman/OC fic, but here we are and here we go... and i'm kinda in love with it already, so A++ for me. (i know the whole 'related to the game' thing has been done a kazillion times already, but i wanted to go with a different kind of approach, which you'll be able to piece together once you've finished this opening chapter, and unlike my other fics, this one is NOT a slow burn, so that's gonna be fun too)
also, i'm just gonna warn you right now before we start— KENNA IS NOT A GOOD PERSON. she may have good qualities, but she is not a good person. now that that's out of the way, read and enjoy! (and p.s, if you know my style as a writer, you know this won't be a fluffy/happy/easy read; so read at your own risk)
rae x
CHAPTER ONE
Hunter was pacing around the office, turning one way and then another, completely ignoring the gaze of his wife.
"Hunter?" Stephanie said softly, reaching a hand out towards him.
"She's back."
As if those two words weren't ominous enough for Stephanie, the way that Hunter looked at her said everything that she needed to know. But she still had to check. "What?"
"Kenna"
She blanched at the name, clenched her hands together. "Your step-sister?"
"The only."
And, well, they were all fucked then.
Stephanie ducked her head, caught her husbands gaze, then threw her arms out. "I'm sorry, but wasn't she off in a detention camp somewhere, Hunter? Can we even let her into this building?"
"She's family, Steph. I can't exactly say no to her," he said, resigned to the fact that there was nothing he could do to keep her out.
Again, Stephanie tried to talk some sense into him. "Hunter, she will turn this place upside down until she gets exactly what it is that she wants—"
"You don't think I know that?" The Game snapped. He turned his head to stare at the woman, then rubbed the back of his bald head with an agitated hand.
"How are you planning to handle her, then?"
"I don't have a clue."
—
Kenna Swan had never really been subject to butterflies in her stomach. Sure, there was that time in fifth grade where the principal had called her up onto stage because she was distracting him, but it didn't really count. Or maybe that time when she'd been walking down the aisle at her father's wedding— still, it had nothing on the anxiety currently surging through her veins.
Fuck, she couldn't even keep still.
She was sitting on some fold out black chair near the entrance ramp and her leg was bouncing, up and down and up and down, her teeth worrying her bottom lip and honestly, she shouldn't have been this nervous.
Yet here she was. A complete fucking mess.
Jesus.
"You alright, ma'am?"
What she didn't want to admit was that the man's chesty voice had scared the fuck out of her, but it looked like he'd seen her involuntary jump anyway. "Fine," she finally remarked.
"Seem a little nervous to me, is all."
And of course she knew just who the fuck she was talking to, but God, she didn't even care. "Of course I'm fuckin' nervous."
But he didn't relent. His intimidating figure slid onto the chair next to her, but his body was angled so that it was open to hers. Like some kind of invitation for her to come closer. She shifted away a little. "This your first night? I haven't seen you around before, and nothing much these days is kept a secret."
"First night," Kenna confirmed as she eyed him suspiciously. "I haven't been around much at all. It was a last minute thing, papers signed Friday, flew in this morning."
"You gotta be pretty good if they're debuting you straight away." He hummed to himself and then held out a beefy arm with an open hand attached to it, face splitting into a charming smile. "Roman Reigns, nice to meet you."
She stared at the outstretched hand until it dropped away slowly. "I know."
The smirk across his lips didn't fade, and she had to hand it to him— he wasn't perturbed in the slightest by her cold shoulder. "Not gonna introduce yourself, baby girl?"
The pet name was said in a teasing tone and part of her softened to him automatically, his obvious confidence after being pushed away a trait she found easy to like. He thought he was the shit; the top dog. At least some part of that belief was right, anyway.
So Kenna smirked back at him. "Baby girl will do just fine. Though, I'm not really either of those, am I?" She twisted in the seat and crossed on leg over the other, tilted her head a little to the side, and then watched satisfied when his stormy grey eyes trailed the length of her neck and then slipped down to her smooth thighs. "Kenna Swan."
His eyes locked back on hers and there was that telltale curve of his lips. He had absolutely no fucking idea what was about to happen.
"Reigns!"
Almost like he was snapped out of a trance, the Samoan twisted his head around to stare at his brown haired teammate, and Kenna let her eyes trail the champion's impressive stature. Not too buff, just the right amount of athleticism in his toned muscles, messy curls. Dean Ambrose— hard to miss.
"Duty calls," Kenna said softly, and Roman was back staring at her again. "Time to go beat up the baddies."
She let go of a breath she didn't realise she was holding as soon as the tattooed man was out of sight and slumped back into her chair, fiddled with the fresh burgundy nail polish, checked the time.
Ten minutes.
And fuck did ten minutes pass slow when she was as anxious as she was, and her hands were still shaking as she was given her cue. But she wrapped them around the lengthy handle of a sledgehammer and slung it over her shoulder, nodded to the stagehand. Breathed out slowly as her theme began to sound throughout an eerily silent arena.
As soon as her name flashed across the tron, there was instant booing. At least some of these people knew her background.
With the sledgehammer resting easy, Kenna began her walk down the ramp, purposeful steps drawing her closer to the six-man tag match which had halted the moment she started moving. They were confused, possibly, and Bray Wyatt's face was split in a grin that looked as terrifying as his lamb follower.
She moved around the squared circle, sending a little kiss and wave to the commentary team, and then she could hear Michael Cole's voice. "And that is definitely Kenna Swan, ladies and gentleman, one of the most revered female competitors gracing the wrestling industry today— but what on earth is she doing out here?!"
The Wyatt's and The Shield were in opposite corners but had much the same reaction to her presence— they were both perplexed and suspicious.
Kenna deliberately and slowly moved herself into the ring, turned so that she was staring at the bearded men with contempt, and then lowered the weapon from her shoulder to place it in front of her, leaning on the handle a little.
"This match is over," she announced calmly, her lips curved in a smile. Almost like this situation was amusing to her. "Get out or I'll swing this at your mouth— can't preach if you have no teeth."
Blue eyes narrowed at her. But slowly, Bray Wyatt and his family vacated the ring, and then Kenna was staring at the referee who had been trying to talk to her.
"You too. Get out. This match is done."
Though they'd booed her earlier, the crowd was now loud in their confused murmurs, trying to figure out who exactly this woman in front of them was and what it was she wanted. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before; ripped black shorts, black cropped shirt with multiple chains hanging from her neck, black suede thigh-high boots which had her over six foot. Her fingers were covered in rings, left arm held by a gold cuff, hazel green eyes accented by the intense smoky green eye makeup. Wavy brown hair, straight chin… and God, did she look like hell on heels.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" It was the half blonde one, Rollins, but her eyes hadn't left Roman's.
Her hands slid the microphone out of her pocket. "Who the hell do I think I am? My name is Kenna Swan. Or, until I very recently had my name changed to something that was just a little more… me, people used to call me Helmsley." There was silence as the three men looked at her and the murmuring got louder. "See, now, I know those faces. You're thinkin' to yourselves 'it can't be', you're thinkin' that no, I couldn't possibly be related to that heap of flesh sittin' out the back probably going off his rocker because his little sister has taken over his show. And thank the Lord that we only share the same screw-up of a father, 'cause God knows if we had the same slut of a mother I'd be a lost cause.
"See, we have something in common. We both hate my brother—" A heavy guitar riff almost seemed to shake the entire arena and Kenna smirked as her eyes moved from Reigns to Hunter Hearst Helmsley. "Speak of the devil…"
The man in question was red in the face, angry in a way that the universe had only seen a handful of times. "Kenna, I don't know what you're planning to achieve out here right now, but I swear to all that's Holy if you don't get your ass up here right now—"
"Oooh," she cooed down the microphone, "how scary, big brother already throwing out the threats."
"This isn't a game, either you walk up here yourself or I'll have security remove you from this arena."
Kenna let her head drop to the side as she watched uniformed security guards step out from the behind the tron, and much to her surprise, Reigns took a threatening step away from her and towards them. Like he was protecting her. How noble.
"Only six?" Kenna cackled, shook her head. "Have you forgotten who you're dealing with, Hunter?"
"Kenna, I will not ask you again—"
"Why so serious?"
The following words fell on deaf ears. Stuffing the microphone back into her pocket, Kenna waltzed forward until she had her fingers curled into Dean Ambrose's vest, tugging him around until he was staring down at her in surprise, and then her other hand was around his neck, holding him in place. Kenna pushed up as much as she could until her mouth was pressed against his.
Shocked cries from the audience fell across the arena and Kenna smirked against Dean's mouth, but the shocked noise that surprised her was her own— his muscly arms had curled around her body, tugged her against him harshly in a way that had her gasping, and then his tongue pushed into her mouth as he deepened the kiss.
Holy fuck, okay.
Not only was she hyper aware of the entire world watching, she was aware of Roman's eyes now boring into the side of her head, and— and that was odd, especially since she didn't care what anyone else thought.
When she broke away from the lunatic fringe, Kenna made sure her mouth was curved in a smile and that her eyes were locked onto Triple H's.
The microphone was back in her grasp as she forcefully shoved Ambrose away from her. "I got what I came here for."
With that, the woman stepped past the shocked Shield members and leapt from the ring, waltzing back towards her furious step-brother, but her feet carried her away from the ramp and to the side of the stage before he could stop her.
And seconds later, cameras and a man were following her retreat into the depths of the arena.
"Kenna— Miss Swan, if we could grab a word—" the interviewer tried, and Kenna spun quickly with the same devil's smirk on her lips.
"You can grab many words."
He stumbled at that, frowning. "…the WWE Universe must be very confused right now—"
Kenna laughed. "Because of me?"
"—because of what just transpired on RAW. Would you care to explain your actions?" The man asked tentatively.
"Really, it's simple—" Kenna broke off and tilted her head, frowned. "Who are you?"
He seemed to shrink under her gaze. "Tom Philips."
"Really, Tom, my explanation is simple. Hunter, the good old man that he is, tried to keep me away from his most prized possession. Which, of course, is the WWE. He stole my family, so now I'm going to steal his love. My actions tonight are because I wanted to make an impact. And I mean, anyone who knows one plus one knows that Hunter ordered that hit on The Shield a few weeks back, so obviously they're gonna be on the same page as I am. And, c'mon! They're the most dominant faction in wrestling at the moment, I wanted to see them up close and personal—"
"But didn't you go a bit far kissing Dean Ambrose…?"
"Of course I kissed him! How else do you think they're going to realise I'm not messing around?" She laughed again. "The point is that I made an impact. And thanks to me, The Shield now know that Hunter doesn't trust them anymore."
"Like you said, though, The Shield are the most dominant faction in the WWE. Don't you expect backlash? Both against you and against your brother?"
"Are you stupid?" Kenna actually seemed shocked on top of being amused. "Of course they're going to lash out! But, Tom, this is all part of a bigger plan, okay? Trust the hell raiser. Because that's what I'm here to do. Raise hell." She nodded at her words, pursed her lips, and seemingly satisfied, turned her back to the camera.
—
Kenna was sat in a chair, her smooth thighs thrown over the top of the arm rest, fingers entwined and hands clasped across her stomach. She looked like she was examining the ties on the back of her boots. Across from her, Hunter had his back turned and was looking down at his phone.
"Can't keep me locked in here forever, H," the woman threw a look over her shoulder and smirked at Triple H.
"You realise Swan is not your last name—"
"Actually, I have legal documentation that shows my name switch."
He glared at her. "Kenna, you were born a Helmsley and you will always be a Helmsley."
"The moment I refer to myself as a Helmsley will be the day I die."
The COO had fully turned now to stare at the younger woman. His hands were in his pockets, eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, Kenna? From what I heard, you were just dropping by. This isn't permanent and yet here you are acting like it is."
Kenna just snorted at him and swung her legs over onto the floor, stood so that she was closer to eye level. "Oh, please, Hunter, you and I both know I'm not going away anytime soon. And my business here is no one's but my own."
"Ken, you can't just walk in here and expect me to give you everything," Hunter said tersely, "Behind the scenes, I worked my ass off to get where I am, I fought tooth and nail to be standing here as the COO, I wasn't just handed everything on a silver platter—"
Reaching forward, Kenna grabbed his tie and pulled it out of the buttoned blazer, turned her nose at the expensive looking suit. "So you didn't sleep with the boss's daughter, huh?" She laughed, pouted her lips and shook her head. "No, you did all of what you just said and slept your way in. Hunter, I'm just here to have a little fun… upset the established order, raise some anarchy—"
Triple H looked like he wanted to bang his head against a wall. "You're either here to wrestle or you can get a job helping out the talent, and if you're not doing that, you can leave."
She made a noise akin to an 'aw' and tilted her head, his tie long forgotten. "You'd kick your own sister out?"
"I swear, Kenna, don't test me."
"Touché, H." Kenna chucked a look over her shoulder and sighed. "Maybe I'll become a manager. Promote Daniel Bryan. Or shadow Paul Heyman." The look that crossed Hunter's face was beyond priceless to Kenna and she cracked a grin, stuck a tongue out. "I dunno, H, I'll just do whatever I want whenever I want."
Kenna sent her older brother one last little grin before ducking out of frame, leaving the COO dragging a hand down his exasperated face.
No sooner had she left than the exasperated members of The Shield stormed in.
"Where is she?" Dean Ambrose asked, his mouth crooked in an aroused smile. "C'mon, Trips, you honestly expect me to let that kiss go?"
With a hand at Dean's chest, the two-toned man pushed him back softly. "Not the time, Dean, c'mon, man—"
"Let it go," Triple H commanded, obviously showing no interest in adding fuel to the fire. "Just let it go. She's my sister and if any of you even lay a finger on her—"
"That's the least I'm gonna do when I—"
"Look," Rollins said as he stepped forwards, blocking Dean's view of the now angry COO. "This is a one time thing. If she throws out our match again, the least she'll have to worry about is the consequences you're going to give her. Keep her away from us, alright? We don't want any part in her games."
But Triple H's eyes were on the brooding Roman Reigns. "What've you got to say, Reigns?"
The Samoan's nostrils flared out and his chin raised, grey eyes turning steely. "What she said about you ordering the hit? That better just be part of her game. Or else your little sister isn't the only problem you're gonna have on your hands and you can believe that."
—
For the second time that night, Kenna let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding. The three Shield men stalked from her brother's office and made themselves scarce, not even looking in her direction once, and then she was poking her head back around the door frame. Camera men were packing up some lighting, putting their equipment away, and Triple H's eyes found hers with a smile.
She grinned right back.
"You sure you wanna push this whole 'blood siblings' thing?" Kenna asked slowly as she leant against the frame.
"It's a complicated thing to try and explain to the world that we're not related by blood," Hunter responded easily. "We could go down the whole step-siblings path, but then that's not much fun. We'll push this angle until we get what we want."
Kenna found the corners of her mouth lifting. "And what do we want, exactly?"
"The destruction of The Shield."
A little laugh pushed it's way from her chest and she shook her head, smiled. "I think I'm understanding why they call you the Cerebral Assassin now. You don't think you're going too far with this?"
"Not at all," Hunter shook his head, "and if they're half as smart as they think they are, they won't let you get between them."
"We'll see. I play a pretty convincing love interest when I want to," she said, and then clapped her hands together, standing upright with her shoulders back. "Anyway, this all you wanted me here for tonight?"
"Yeah. Get yourself to the hotel and we'll fly the jet out to get you in the morning."
"Sir, yes sir."
Kenna bid her goodbyes and turned on her heel, sauntered her way back to the room they'd set her up in. Her hands were up in her hair, releasing the dark locks from a messy bun at the base of her neck, and as she shook the curls out, she couldn't help but feel a million dollars.
It had a lot to do with the fact that her father married into the Helmsley line and that she'd grown up idolising her step brother, the natural born wrestler, and low-key followed in his footsteps. In fact, she'd never really had a name for herself until she dropped the Helmsley title she didn't deserve— after that, people stopped trying to make her out as some Triple H wannabe and started looking at her like she was her own person.
But she still had a long way to go when it came to the 'E.
make sure you let me know what you think, i love all of your thoughts and opinions!
