'Disaster beyond your imagination could head your way.'
The barely veiled threat stared at her from her computer screen.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Lola hissed into the silence. This was maddening!
She jumped when a knock sounded at her door.
"Rollins. What can I do for you?"
"I could ask you the same thing. What's happened?"
She shook her head. "It's an email. Like I used to get."
"That was around the last time Lesnar was here, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was. But what would he have to gain from threatening me? From attacking Vince? None of this makes any sense!"
He hummed in agreement. "What about Heyman?"
"He - he's satisfied. As far as I know. Did he say anything that might lead you to believe he could be behind this?" She hated to admit it, but it fit.
"There was something . . . He'd do anything to be in power. You know that."
She closed her eyes and smiled grimly at her own folly. "How could I not see it? Punk's out for himself; he's told me so often enough. Why should anybody else be any different?"
"You don't really believe that, do you?"
She lifted a shoulder. "I didn't get where I am by seeing only the good in people. Everyone has a dark side, a wicked side . . . A selfish streak. And they can all too easily be exploited."
"And you're just the woman to do it." He cleared his throat. "No one knows about our . . . meetings, right?"
She scoffed. "No, of course not. You should get going before someone wonders where you are."
"Point taken. I'll see you later tonight?"
She ran her hand along his jawline. "Sure. Just make sure no one notices you sneaking away."
"Always."