Author's Note: Sooo, this is another brainchild of Tori and I; I 100% blame her for this. I was inspired by Trish's Wrestlemania gear and Queen was looking like a snack. (No not Charlotte..)
Helpp mee … somehow I am writing a mafia story now and I have no idea about mafias or any of these wrestlers we are gonna use. Please send your thoughts and prayers (or good vibes… I fuck with that) and hope I dont butch up any of your characters. Love ya!
Ignore Tori, she's being overdramatic (I am used to it). Anyways.. Hope you guys enjoy :)
Summary: Revenge. That's what Trish Stratus desired most, with everything she had gone through by his hands. For her best friend, who didn't deserve any of this. Killing him will come soon but she wanted McMahon to suffer more. To kidnap his daughter and torture her until she perished. It was simple and cruel. Yet those plans are usually the ones that go horribly wrong..
Pairings: Trish/Stephanie and maybe other pairings
Rating: M for mature events that will appear throughout the story..
I own nothing except for any OCs that I use and the story itself. All the other characters belong to themselves obviously and Impact Wrestling/WWE/whatever promotion. This story is complete fiction. AU (Alternate Universe)
NOTE: This is Femslash.. don't like don't read..
The sound of thunder nearby silenced the sound of a car door slamming. The rain beat down on the man, who was trying to open an umbrella to shield himself from the ferocious storm. The wind whistled against the umbrella's surface; the man swallowed hard after looking down to his watch. It was already midnight which meant that he was late for his meeting. This occurrence had never happened before in all of his years of service, he feared that this could end badly for him. The man stood a little under six feet tall, a little stocky, dressed professionally in a suit. His hairless scalp reflected the street lights, and what little hair remained on the side of his head was slicked back. There was never a slow step to the man as he was frantically making his way toward the meeting spot. It was a bar owned by his employer, it was a place completely familiar to him. With a sharp yet shaky breath, he opened the door to the establishment. Not even five steps into the business was he met with a voice. "You're a minute and sixteen seconds late, Paul. Did you intend to keep me waiting all night?" The voice was feminine in nature and caused the man to snap his head over to the owner of the voice.
Sweat formed on his brow as he opened his mouth to speak. He needed to choose his words carefully. "M-Miss McMahon, that is not my intention at all! I am truly deeply sorry, it won't happen again." Paul's heart thundered in his chest as her eyes stared daggers into him, she set her drink down on the counter and stood from her stool. Her heels were the only sound that could be heard besides the background music. His eyes watched as the woman approached with a confident sway of her hips. With high heels on, she was a couple inches taller than him. Her long, dark brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, her suit probably cost more than his own car. A car that Vince himself purchased as a gift for him.
"It better not, you know that I am not the most patient person, Paul." She spoke with some bass in her voice which almost got the grown man to flinch. It was obvious that he had upset Miss McMahon with his tardiness. It truly wasn't his fault, but he knew making excuses would only dig his grave further. "However I will pardon your tardiness this one time because father needs you to do something for him."
Paul wanted to let out a sigh of relief but didn't want to show fear to the young woman, but he was really bad at hiding such an emotion. "Oh thank you, M-Miss McMahon, your beauty and kindness shows mercy on my undeserving soul." He spoke almost instantly, trying his damndest to get back on her good side. The brunette didn't answer straight away, instead her attention went to her beverage. This silence between them was driving Paul insane, he knew that if Miss McMahon desired, she could snap her fingers and his life would perish.
She downed her shot and slammed it on the counter, "You are really good at kissing ass, Heyman. That's why father adores you so." Paul Heyman had been working for her father for longer than she had been alive. A slippery weasel that knew how to talk his way out of almost any situation. Known in the family as a genius, Paul's direction has helped them plenty.
"I speak the truth my lady, you are the future of this family."
She couldn't help the deep chuckle that escaped her upon hearing what Heyman said. He was really trying to butter her up, it was hard for Miss McMahon to tell if he was lying or not. "Now would you say that if any of the others were here in my place?" Her tone was more sarcastic in nature as she approached Heyman while reaching into her purse.
"Regardless of who the heir is, you all will lead the McMahon family to new heights. That is what I believe." Heyman could feel the sweat forming on his brow again as his eyes couldn't help but focus on the manicured hand in the purse. He feared what she was going to pull out.
The woman smiled, pleased with the words that Heyman managed to utter out on a whim. She pulled out a sealed manila envelope and slapped it against his chest. "That is my intention. Now here, father wants you to deliver this package to Ric Flair himself by sunrise. You are not to deliver the package to any of his goonies or his children. Understand?" His heart rate sped up upon hearing the name of Vince McMahon's former friend turned rival family. It had been about two years since Heyman had seen the Flair man. Last time wasn't on the best of terms. "Also I need you to gather Jimmy, Jey and Solo and have them meet me at my office. I need their skills to investigate a concerning matter."
'Something that involves all the Uso brothers can not be good.' Paul was curious about what that could possibly intel but knew that Miss McMahon wouldn't enlighten him further. It most likely had to do with one of the rival families. "Yes Miss McMahon, I will have the boys to your office within the hour and the package will be handed to Mister Flair swiftly. You can count on me."
"Don't disappoint me Paul. I expect you to be in the office by sunrise with results." With a snap of her fingers, a man ran over to her with an umbrella, one that Paul recognized. She paid the advocate no further attention as the pair walked past Heyman and towards a parked car. The advocate let out a sigh as he watched one of his bosses leave his line of sight.
Now time was ticking and he had a couple hours to do everything that was asked of him. The second he was safe from this storm, he was going to call the Usos to meet at the McMahon estate. Another question that rested deep in the back of his mind was if he needed to call someone to accompany him to the Flair residence. Heyman and Ric weren't necessarily on sour terms since the whole ordeal between the families. But if Flair was in a sour mood, he was a truly terrifying individual. He got over to the driver side of the car, he reached over to grab the door handle; that was until something pressed against his spine. "Hands up Heyman. Keep your eyes forward." Heyman did as instructed and kept both of his hands in the air. He cursed under his breath knowing that this person was smart enough to wait for the others to leave. This voice, there was something about it that Paul recognized. It was a female that was speaking. He heard a scoff behind him. "I am surprised that they sent the youngest McMahon. Tell me Paul, do you recognize my voice?"
The man felt the item pressed against his spine harder and recognized it as a blade of sorts. He wasn't a fighter in the slightest but the second sentence gave him the clarification that he needed. Paul recognized this voice; he felt his heart sink into his stomach. Chills ran up his back as he answered the woman. Out of all the women he could have encountered from the rivaling families, it just had to be her. "Of course, I couldn't forget someone with your elegance, Miss Stratus. I-"
"Kissing ass isn't going to work on me like it does for Vince and the other McMahons." She snarled, taking a couple steps to his right side and making sure that he felt the blade at all times. Paul was able to get a better look at the woman once she stepped under the street light. Her hair was blonde, long and curly at the tips; her brown eyes focused on the envelope in his right hand. A hat rested on her head that was black and had a silver jeweled feather on the side. She wore a white crop top, waist high gray pants with black suspenders and a beautiful white coat with fur on the shoulders.. With a swift motion, the blonde snagged the envelope from Heyman's grasp, he didn't protest it. "What did she give you? Do you know its contents?"
"Miss Stratus, I do not. I was informed to deliver it and nothing more." He spoke the truth as Trish could only arch a brow at him. The blonde had known Paul for years ever since she was associated with the McMahon family. Even after all these years, she couldn't tell if the weasel was lying or not.
She clicked her lips together, looking at the sealed envelope with pure curiosity. Trish wasn't sure who they were sending this information to but it was hers now. They were trying to be in cahoots with someone was the most likely scenario. "I see. It's my property now. I want you to deliver a message to good ol' Vince himself. You can put your hands down, Paulie." The last sentence was spoken in a friendlier tone, it confused Paul but he did as instructed. This actually would work out in his favor, he had to be careful and discreet send a warning signal to his associates. All he needed to do was stall for time, he rested his hands together in front of his frame. His watch had a button on the side that would alert his contacts if things were ever serious; what Paul needed to do was click the button quickly three times. The silence was bugging him as Trish was giving him a side eye. One. Two. Three.
"What would that be?" He asked in a worried tone, hoping that he could keep the rebel blonde talking long enough for help to arrive. With the distasteful history between the blonde and Mister McMahon himself, things could get very ugly and fast.
"Oh, silly Paul. You won't be telling him anything, you are going to be the message itself." An even more sinister tone made its presence known, the blade pierced his back making sure not to miss any vital points. Trish wasn't stupid and knows about the watch and the extra functions. That is exactly what the blonde planned to happen, she wanted someone to come to collect Heyman and send the message to Vince.
Paul felt a surge of pain through his back as Miss Stratus made sure to bury the blade further in his body. He sadly understood the meaning of her words, she was intending to kill him as a warning to the McMahons. His life was flashing before his eyes as she pulled out the blade. Heyman's mind was running in circles, he was trying to figure out any solution to this dire situation. His eyes fought back the tears as he pleaded with her. "Please Trish have mercy, I have two daughters-"
"Have mercy! You want me to show mercy!" Trish cut him off, enraged by his desperate plea and using his own children as leverage. The knife made its home back in his back once again with much more force this time. For a brief moment, she could have truly considered keeping Heyman alive to her advantage, but he couldn't talk his way out of it now. He screamed out in pain as one stab turned into two then three; Trish was no longer keeping count, but she made sure not to kill him yet. The blonde was fighting back the tears that formed in the corner of her eyes as she kicked him effortlessly to the pavement. She scoffed menacingly, kicking him hard to roll her over on his back. Paul Heyman was forced to look Trish Stratus in the eyes for the first time in years. "Did you consider that whenever your boys murdered Ashley Massaro and staged it to be a suicide? She had a daughter that she was raising all by herself. Did you give my best friend any mercy!" She shouted, her mind reliving that nightmare in her head. It had been three months since one of her best friends was murdered. Ashley had nothing to do with the families, all she wanted was to raise her daughter in peace. But again, reality hit hard for them whenever her body was discovered by her own child. Trish was listed as an emergency contact since she was Lexi's Godmother. A young child was left alone in this world without any parents and Trish knew from the start that it wasn't a suicide. With thorough investigation, Stratus discovered that it was the Usos that committed the awful act.
"I…I.I-" Paul stammered between breaths, trying to find the right words to say in the situation. He understood now that she wanted revenge on Heyman for authorizing such an attack. He was only following orders and gathered information on Stratus and some of the traitors to the McMahon family. Ashley was simply the easiest target; it was an exclamation to Trish that the family had not forgotten about her crimes.
Stratus watched with a smile on her face as the helpless advocate stared up at her. He wasn't going to bleed out yet however the blonde knew that help should be here soon. As much as she desired the torment to keep going, it was time to end her fun. Her hand reached for her hostler on her waist and grabbed a hold of her pistol. "That's what I thought, I hope you rot in hell, Paul." Without giving the man a chance to do anything, she pulled the trigger, and the bullet made its home in Heyman's head. The smile never left her face as Trish noticed car lights in the distance. Instead of pointing the gun toward the car, the blonde instead pointed the gun toward a shop nearby. There weren't any people in the shop, it had been closed for hours now. Trish shot a couple bullets at the window, causing the glass to shatter and the alarm to start blasting. The police would arrive in a few minutes now being notified of the supposed break in attempt, Miss Stratus noticed the figures that arrived were getting closer. One was an unfamiliar man but the other was a woman that made Trish's lips curl into another big grin. It was Miss McMahon, that was who the blonde was hoping to come. She had just left not long ago so she would be the closest in the area. "Well well look at you, all grown up now. You still have a lot to learn, sweetie. I won't kill you today but let Daddy dearest know that his days are numbered. Tootles." She taunted, waving the envelope of possible classified secrets to one of the main bosses of the family.
"Stratus! I will be the one to take you down. Not today but mark my words, you're messing with the wrong McMahon and you will pay!" The brunette snarled, as the blonde didn't even pay her the right of mind. Trish knew that they were going to give chase especially now that there was a timer ticking down. Miss McMahon knew that chasing one of her sworn enemies with a lone man would be risky. This could easily be an ambush and could lead to her death. Her body was eager to chase down that vile woman, but her mind prevailed in the battle. She gestured over to the now deceased Paul not pleased about how this event turned out. Not only was one of their most trusted family members dead, but one of the enemy families now in possession of classified information. She paced for a moment, giving one last look over to Paul's body. "Corbin, take care of this nonsense. I need to call Father."