Chapter 2


   "You can't do this!" Cori roared, "This is bullshit!" Her palm slammed down on the desk causing papers and the other desktop stuff to dance around. "It's always been the same, automatic rematch for the title when it changes hands. I want my shot at Julie, and I want it now!" Cori was in full rage, she couldn't believe the way Peter was fucking with her. It didn't matter how much of a jerk this guy was, they had rules and precidents and so on. How could he just ignore all that?
   "Look, princess, you need to calm down a bit." Jacobs was using his most obvious patronizing voice, "You took a real beating last friday and I just think you need some time to recover." Peter was relishing this moment, ever since he bought the club he'd been second fiddle to one of the fighters and now he had her right where he wanted her. He had almost given up, watching Cori dismantle one opponent after another, he figured she would always be champion and he would never get the respect and accolades he felt he deserved as the owner of the best sports club in the region.
As part of his plan to wear down
and ultimately demoralize the
former champion, Peter Jacobs
signs the lovely brunette to a
series of strange and often
risque photo sessions.
   Cori was struggling to maintain her composure. This guy was pushing all her buttons, and that voice, who did he think he was kidding? She took a deep breath and tried a different approach. "Look Peter," she leaned forward on his desk smiling, "Do you have any idea how large the gate would be for our rematch? I mean, you're a good marketing guy, you could play this up big. It might even set a record." Cori figured that money might be the way to motivate this jackass.
   She figured wrong. The ex-champ was only getting her first little taste of Jacobs' scheming. "Princess, let's face facts here, okay?" Peter stood up and assumed his best - I'm the boss - pose. "I don't think you're in any shape for a rematch. I mean really, Julie beat the shit out of you and made you look like a beginner. Perhaps all the years at the top have made you . . . well . . . let's say complacent. I think you need some time to get into better fighting shape, you know - workout some more, tune-ups, that sort of thing."
   The room was taking on an odd reddish tint. Cori could hear what Peter was saying, but there was this rushing sound in her ears, like she was at the ocean or something. A vision crept into her mind - Jacobs slammed back against the wall . . her fist buried into his face . . blood and teeth and snot running down the front of his stupid shirt. As Peter spoke he saw the brunette's face harden and her right fist clench. He was many things, but grotesquely stupid was not one of them. Cori was a physically powerful woman and a well-trained fighter. Better to not push his luck any more right now.
 


 
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