Post by Lookout! Boxing on May 31, 2024 23:22:10 GMT -6
Emma Watson vs. Jenna-Louise Coleman
(Results: Lookout!, Words: Caspian)
Emma:
(33, 5’5, 69:42 FCBA, VIXENs)
Jenna-Louise:
(38, 5’2, 29:19 FCBA, Global Boxing Syndicate)
BEFORE:
Next, Jenna-Louise Coleman strides onto the stage a moment later, a deliberate contrast to Emma's polished elegance. She's opted for a simple, fitted black dress that hugs her curves but allows for movement. Her dark hair is pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, her makeup minimal. There's a flicker of nervousness in her eyes, a vulnerability that vanishes the moment she meets Emma's gaze.
HERE WE GO with ten rounds of Flyweight action!
ROUND 1:
The bell's sharp clang shatters the anticipation, and Emma, with her characteristic composure, takes the center of the ring, her movements a study in controlled aggression. She throws out a series of probing jabs, testing Jenna's defenses, her eyes searching for the slightest opening. Jenna, however, isn't intimidated. She circles warily, her shorter frame bobbing and weaving like a shadow. Her counter-punches are sharp, a few snapping against Emma's gloves and forearms with audible smacks. Soon, Emma finds her rhythm, landing a solid right hook that grazes the cheekbone. But Jenna doesn't flinch. Quickly, she retaliates with a lightning-fast two-punch combination. The first, a right jab, snaps Emma's head back, momentarily disrupting her focus, then she follows up with a left cross that lands squarely on the solar plexus, just below Watson’s ribcage. Ouch! The unexpected impact forces the air from Emma's lungs with a sharp exhale, and her body momentarily hunches over in pain. The round settles into a tense dance of feints and jabs. Emma, with her longer reach, tries to maintain distance after that body blow, while Jenna constantly seeks to close the gap, her footwork a blur as she circles, looking for an opening. In the final minute, the intensity escalates. Both fighters trade blows in tandem, their bodies colliding with a force that sends sweat spraying. Jenna unleashes a left hook that lands flush on the jaw, just below the right eye. The impact snaps Emma's head to the side, and for a split second, her eyes glaze over. But Magical recovers quickly, landing a punishing body shot of her own that elicits a grunt. The bell rings, a merciful end to a brutal opening round. Both women retreat to their corners, their faces flushed and slick with sweat. It's a close call, but the judges, after a brief deliberation, award the round to the Vixen.
ROUND 2:
The bell for the second clangs, and a wave of adrenaline washes over Jenna-Louise. The sting of the first round loss fuels her, transforming her measured movements into a whirlwind of aggression. She closes the distance with a ferocity that catches Emma off guard. The Vixen, used to controlling the pace, struggles to adjust, as her opponent’s punches fly at her, a barrage of hooks and uppercuts aimed at overwhelming her defenses. Emma tries to cover up, her gloves deflecting most of the blows, but the sheer force of the onslaught pushes her back against the ropes. The crowd roars its approval. They've come to see a fight, and Jenna-Louise is delivering! Her punches might lack the finesse, but they carry a raw power. Trapped against the ropes, Emma grits her teeth. She tries to counter, but her punches lack their usual precision. A vicious uppercut lands on the ribs, forcing a grunt of pain, and for the rest of the round, Jenna stalks and pins her foe around the ring, her punches a constant threat. Emma manages to land a few glancing blows off her face and temple, but they lack the power to deter her opponent. When the bell rings, both women stagger back to their corners, their chests heaving. Jenna-Louise, though winded, is triumphant. She's made her mark, proving that she won't be dismissed so easily. Suddenly, the momentum of the fight has shifted dramatically. The underdog has found her footing, and the crowd is on its feet, roaring its approval.
ROUND 3:
Emma, her pride wounded and her composure cracking, emerges from her corner with a vengeance. The crowd, eager for a spectacle, roars as the Vixen unleashes a fury they've never witnessed before. She charges forward, and Jenna-Louise, momentarily stunned by this new ferocity, raises her gloves in a desperate attempt to shield herself. But a left hook slams into her ribs from the side, forcing a gasp from the former BBU champ. Emma follows with a series of blistering punches, another combination that forces the shorter Brit to stumble backwards. With renewed confidence, Emma stalks her back, jabs to the face to disrupt her rhythm, while vicious hooks thud off the body to leave red marks that bloom on her torso. Coleman tries to fight back, but her punches lack their earlier precision. She's clearly winded, her movements sluggish compared to the whirlwind of the previous round. As the bell rings, it's Emma who stands taller, her eyes blazing with a newfound fire.
ROUND 4:
Round Four ignites with a renewed fire in Jenna-Louise's eyes. Now, she aims lower, stalking Emma with punches to her arms and torso. Each impact echoes with a sickening thud, chipping away at defenses. Emma, sensing the shift in tactics, tries to circle away, but Jenna-Louise herds her back, soon cornering the taller, leaner actress against the ropes. Left hooks dig into her ribs, right crosses slam against her biceps up high. Emma's arms, once her primary weapons, now become shields, desperately trying to deflect the onslaught. And in the second minute, Jenna-Louise just LEANS in, unleashing more punches to weaken her defenses. A short jab snaps Emma's head back, and before Emma can recover, she follows up with a vicious right hook aimed at the body. The impact lands squarely on Emma's solar plexus, the point where the ribs meet the stomach. It's a devastating blow, a knockout artist's punch in miniature. The air explodes from Emma's lungs in a pained gasp. Her legs buckle beneath her, and her vision swims. Her body folds over in half, her eyes wide with shock and pain. Another brutal right hook connects with the jawline, but it’s overkill at this point, with Watson’s body already mid-way collapsing to the canvas! Just like that, it’s a KNOCKDOWN for Jenna-Louise Coleman!!
The referee dives in, his arm raised as he begins the count. "One... Two... Three..." Emma lies prone, her body momentarily still. The lights overhead seem to blur, the roar of the crowd a distant echo. "Four... Five... Six..." She stirs, her limbs twitching as she struggles to regain her senses. A flicker of defiance returns to her eyes. "Seven!" With a guttural cry, Emma pushes herself up, her legs wobbling beneath her!
Jenna-Louise, watching her from the neutral corner all this time, looks disappointed, but doesn't relent. When the bell rings again, she CHARGES forward. But Emma, filled with adrenaline and a desperate need to survive, manages to weather the storm. The remaining seconds of the round are a blur of frantic exchanges, both women trading blows with desperate abandon. The bell finally rings, signaling the end of the round. Both women are battered, bruised, and gasping for air. But it's Jenna-Louise who raises her arms in triumph, a wide grin splitting her bloodied face. Standing apart from the fallen Watson, she lets out a victorious cry. "Not so cocky now, are you, princess?" she taunts, her voice filled with venom. "Thought this would be easy, did you? Maybe you should stick to shouting spells and leave the fighting to the professionals."
ROUND 5:
Buoyed by the previous knockdown and the raucous cheers of her supporters, Coleman doesn't give Emma a moment's respite. From the opening bell, she closes the distance with a series of feints and jabs that keep her Brit counterpart constantly on the defensive. Emma, her body already aching and her movements sluggish, tries to weather, but Jenna-Louise's punches find their mark with increasing frequency, her gloves digging into the ribs with left hooks, before punishing her solar plexus with right crosses. Emma's arms become a shield, her gloves trying to deflect the onslaught. But Jenna-Louise muscles and bullies her way in close, launching a vicious uppercut that packs into the sternum, the impact forcing a strangled gasp from Watson’s lips. The blow travels up her body in a sickening wave, momentarily stealing the air from her lungs. Emma’s vision swims, the harsh lights above the ring blurring into a nauseating kaleidoscope. A searing pain erupts in her chest, a white-hot poker jabbing at her insides. Her knees buckle, and for a terrifying moment, she thinks she's going down. But instinct takes over. Emma grits her teeth, digging her heels into the canvas and pushing back with all her remaining strength. The ropes press into her back, a momentary barrier between her and a crushing defeat. She gasps for air, short, desperate breaths that tear at her raw throat. The world seems to slow down, the roar of the crowd a distant echo in her ears. All that exists is the pain, a blinding, all-consuming agony that threatens to drown her. Through the haze of pain, she sees Coleman looming over her, then comes a surge of defiance, fueled anger and a sliver of hope in her eyes. But as the bell rings, the poor Vixen is still slumped over in Jenna-Louise's arms, her body a broken doll. Coleman leans in, her lips brushing against Emma's ear. "You're mine now, princess," she whispers. "I'm going to break you. I'm going to make you wish you'd never stepped into this ring." The words hang in the air, a chilling promise of the violence to come. The crowd erupts, their cheers for Jenna-Louise reaching a fever pitch. Emma, her eyes glazed over with pain, can only whimper in response. She's not just losing the fight, she's losing herself.
ROUND 6:
Coleman attempts to replicate her previous success. She lunges forward from the get-go, her arms a blur as she throws a series of wild hooks. But the power behind her punches is gone, replaced by a desperate flailing. The damage she inflicted on Emma has taken its toll, her own body now betraying her. Emma, battered but unbroken, senses the shift. She ducks under a wild swing, her movements surprisingly agile for a woman who just moments ago seemed on the verge of collapse. Then, with a fierce cry, she unleashes a powerful right hook that slams into Jenna-Louise's jaw! OUFF! The CRACK echoes through the arena, and Jenna stumbles backwards, her eyes wide with shock. Immediately, Emma presses her advantage, a series of lightning-fast jabs rocking her head back and forth! Left hook, another brutal uppercut, then a final, devastating right cross to the chin!! That’s IT!! Jenna-Louise's body crumples, collapsing onto the canvas, and the arena explodes in a roar, as the referee rushes in, his arm raised as he begins the count! It’s a return KNOCKDOWN for Emma Watson!
"One... Two... Three..." Jenna-Louise lies motionless, her body broken on the stained canvas. Her breathing is shallow, her eyes fluttering closed. "Four... Five... Six..." A flicker of consciousness returns to her eyes, but her body refuses to obey her commands. "Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten!" The referee's voice booms through the arena. That’s IT, folks! It’s OVER!
Official Result: Emma Watson defeats Jenna-Louise Coleman via KO6!
AFTER:
Emma releases her, letting Jenna slump back against the ropes. Then, in the center of the ring, the victorious Vixen stands tall, her chest heaving, her eyes blazing with a triumphant fire. The message is clear: Watson is back, and she's not going anywhere.
(Results: Lookout!, Words: Caspian)
Emma:
(33, 5’5, 69:42 FCBA, VIXENs)
Jenna-Louise:
(38, 5’2, 29:19 FCBA, Global Boxing Syndicate)
BEFORE:
The Location: this press conference is held in the plush ballroom of a high-end London hotel, a stark contrast to the gritty gyms where these fighters hone their craft. Crystal chandeliers shimmer overhead, casting a sterile light on the velvet-draped stage. It's a setting designed to amp up the glamor factor, a calculated move to showcase the star power of this clash.
Emma Watson, the darling of the VIXENs stable, enters first, a vision in a tailored power suit. The scarlet jacket is paired with a crisp white blouse and matching pencil skirt. Her hair, meticulously styled in loose waves, frames a face carefully made up for the cameras. Her smile is practiced, a dazzling flash of teeth that masks the steel beneath.
Then, the two fighters face off. It's more than just pre-fight hype; it's personal. Their past clashes in the Apartment Wrestling House (AHW) circuit have left scars, both physical and emotional, with rumors being each girl scored a win over the other in the past, and now deemed it only fit to step into the boxing ring to settle the score.
Emma, ever the professional, maintains her practiced smile. "Jenna," she begins, her voice a honeyed trap. "Lovely to see you again. Fancy meeting you here, outside the ring."
But Jenna doesn't return the smile. "Cut the crap, Emma. You know why I'm here. I want my redemption."
The MC steps in, sensing the potential for a verbal brawl. "Ladies, let's keep it civil, shall we? We're here to talk about boxing, not wrestling."
Emma lays a manicured hand on her chest, feigning hurt. "Oh, I'd never bring up past embarrassments, darling. Unlike some people, I'm all about moving forward."
Jenna's eyes narrow. "Funny how you forget so easily, Emma. You might have gotten lucky in our last match, but in the ring, it's different. I’m gonna punch you out."
A reporter's hand shoots up, eager to break the icy silence. "Emma, you've had a stellar career in the FCBA. Do you feel any pressure facing an opponent with less FCBA experience?"
Emma smiles, a practiced gesture that doesn't reach her eyes. "Pressure? Love, I thrive on it. This is what I live for. Every fight is a chance to prove myself, to show the world why I'm the best." She glances at Jenna, her smile turning predatory. "But some challenges... are less challenging than others."
A murmur of shock and amusement ripples through the crowd. Jenna's cheeks flush, but she keeps her gaze steady.
"Don't mistake my record for inexperience, Emma," she says, her voice calm but firm. "I've held BBU gold before. And let's be honest, your record hasn't been exactly spotless lately."
A gasp from the audience follows Jenna's audacious jab. Emma bristles, her smile tightening. "Oh, you're so bold for someone who's been on the sidelines for months," she retorts. "But remember, dear, this isn't a popularity contest. This is about skill, stamina, and raw power. And in those departments..." She pauses, letting the unspoken words hang in the air.
Another reporter jumps in, directing a question to Jenna. "Jenna, you've had a break from the ring. Do you think ring rust will be a factor in this fight?"
Jenna shakes her head, a touch of pride coloring her cheeks. "Absolutely not," she declares. "I've been training harder than ever. This time away has only fueled my hunger. And Emma? She's about to find out just how dangerous a woman with something to prove can be."
Hours later, we’re in the packed Staples Center that crackles with a mix of nervous excitement and bloodlust. The ring, bathed in harsh white light, stands in stark contrast to the dimly lit crowd; it's the stage, the focus of every eye.
Emma Watson's cornermen swarm around her, their touch efficient rather than comforting. One adjusts the strapping on her gloves, another offers a final, tactical pep talk, while a third checks the tightly-wrapped braid securing her hair. She's all business beneath the sleek black sports bra and shorts, the VIXENs logo a stark reminder of her allegiance.
Across the ring, Jenna-Louise Coleman exudes a different kind of energy. Her team radiates a quiet confidence, their focus unwavering. She stands in her corner, her crimson sports bra and shorts stark against her pale skin. Her hazel eyes, usually sparkling with warmth, are now narrowed with focus.
The roar of the crowd swells as the MC enters the ringside. "Ladies and gentlemen...are you ready?!" The response is deafening. "It's time for ten rounds of flyweight action!”
Blue spotlights sweep across the ring as Emma steps forward, raising her gloved hands in a brisk acknowledgment of the cheers. Switching dramatically, a wash of crimson light now illuminates the opposite corner. Jenna-Louise takes a deep breath and enters the illuminated zone with her head held high.
ROUND 1:
The bell's sharp clang shatters the anticipation, and Emma, with her characteristic composure, takes the center of the ring, her movements a study in controlled aggression. She throws out a series of probing jabs, testing Jenna's defenses, her eyes searching for the slightest opening. Jenna, however, isn't intimidated. She circles warily, her shorter frame bobbing and weaving like a shadow. Her counter-punches are sharp, a few snapping against Emma's gloves and forearms with audible smacks. Soon, Emma finds her rhythm, landing a solid right hook that grazes the cheekbone. But Jenna doesn't flinch. Quickly, she retaliates with a lightning-fast two-punch combination. The first, a right jab, snaps Emma's head back, momentarily disrupting her focus, then she follows up with a left cross that lands squarely on the solar plexus, just below Watson’s ribcage. Ouch! The unexpected impact forces the air from Emma's lungs with a sharp exhale, and her body momentarily hunches over in pain. The round settles into a tense dance of feints and jabs. Emma, with her longer reach, tries to maintain distance after that body blow, while Jenna constantly seeks to close the gap, her footwork a blur as she circles, looking for an opening. In the final minute, the intensity escalates. Both fighters trade blows in tandem, their bodies colliding with a force that sends sweat spraying. Jenna unleashes a left hook that lands flush on the jaw, just below the right eye. The impact snaps Emma's head to the side, and for a split second, her eyes glaze over. But Magical recovers quickly, landing a punishing body shot of her own that elicits a grunt. The bell rings, a merciful end to a brutal opening round. Both women retreat to their corners, their faces flushed and slick with sweat. It's a close call, but the judges, after a brief deliberation, award the round to the Vixen.
ROUND 2:
The bell for the second clangs, and a wave of adrenaline washes over Jenna-Louise. The sting of the first round loss fuels her, transforming her measured movements into a whirlwind of aggression. She closes the distance with a ferocity that catches Emma off guard. The Vixen, used to controlling the pace, struggles to adjust, as her opponent’s punches fly at her, a barrage of hooks and uppercuts aimed at overwhelming her defenses. Emma tries to cover up, her gloves deflecting most of the blows, but the sheer force of the onslaught pushes her back against the ropes. The crowd roars its approval. They've come to see a fight, and Jenna-Louise is delivering! Her punches might lack the finesse, but they carry a raw power. Trapped against the ropes, Emma grits her teeth. She tries to counter, but her punches lack their usual precision. A vicious uppercut lands on the ribs, forcing a grunt of pain, and for the rest of the round, Jenna stalks and pins her foe around the ring, her punches a constant threat. Emma manages to land a few glancing blows off her face and temple, but they lack the power to deter her opponent. When the bell rings, both women stagger back to their corners, their chests heaving. Jenna-Louise, though winded, is triumphant. She's made her mark, proving that she won't be dismissed so easily. Suddenly, the momentum of the fight has shifted dramatically. The underdog has found her footing, and the crowd is on its feet, roaring its approval.
ROUND 3:
Emma, her pride wounded and her composure cracking, emerges from her corner with a vengeance. The crowd, eager for a spectacle, roars as the Vixen unleashes a fury they've never witnessed before. She charges forward, and Jenna-Louise, momentarily stunned by this new ferocity, raises her gloves in a desperate attempt to shield herself. But a left hook slams into her ribs from the side, forcing a gasp from the former BBU champ. Emma follows with a series of blistering punches, another combination that forces the shorter Brit to stumble backwards. With renewed confidence, Emma stalks her back, jabs to the face to disrupt her rhythm, while vicious hooks thud off the body to leave red marks that bloom on her torso. Coleman tries to fight back, but her punches lack their earlier precision. She's clearly winded, her movements sluggish compared to the whirlwind of the previous round. As the bell rings, it's Emma who stands taller, her eyes blazing with a newfound fire.
ROUND 4:
Round Four ignites with a renewed fire in Jenna-Louise's eyes. Now, she aims lower, stalking Emma with punches to her arms and torso. Each impact echoes with a sickening thud, chipping away at defenses. Emma, sensing the shift in tactics, tries to circle away, but Jenna-Louise herds her back, soon cornering the taller, leaner actress against the ropes. Left hooks dig into her ribs, right crosses slam against her biceps up high. Emma's arms, once her primary weapons, now become shields, desperately trying to deflect the onslaught. And in the second minute, Jenna-Louise just LEANS in, unleashing more punches to weaken her defenses. A short jab snaps Emma's head back, and before Emma can recover, she follows up with a vicious right hook aimed at the body. The impact lands squarely on Emma's solar plexus, the point where the ribs meet the stomach. It's a devastating blow, a knockout artist's punch in miniature. The air explodes from Emma's lungs in a pained gasp. Her legs buckle beneath her, and her vision swims. Her body folds over in half, her eyes wide with shock and pain. Another brutal right hook connects with the jawline, but it’s overkill at this point, with Watson’s body already mid-way collapsing to the canvas! Just like that, it’s a KNOCKDOWN for Jenna-Louise Coleman!!
The referee dives in, his arm raised as he begins the count. "One... Two... Three..." Emma lies prone, her body momentarily still. The lights overhead seem to blur, the roar of the crowd a distant echo. "Four... Five... Six..." She stirs, her limbs twitching as she struggles to regain her senses. A flicker of defiance returns to her eyes. "Seven!" With a guttural cry, Emma pushes herself up, her legs wobbling beneath her!
Jenna-Louise, watching her from the neutral corner all this time, looks disappointed, but doesn't relent. When the bell rings again, she CHARGES forward. But Emma, filled with adrenaline and a desperate need to survive, manages to weather the storm. The remaining seconds of the round are a blur of frantic exchanges, both women trading blows with desperate abandon. The bell finally rings, signaling the end of the round. Both women are battered, bruised, and gasping for air. But it's Jenna-Louise who raises her arms in triumph, a wide grin splitting her bloodied face. Standing apart from the fallen Watson, she lets out a victorious cry. "Not so cocky now, are you, princess?" she taunts, her voice filled with venom. "Thought this would be easy, did you? Maybe you should stick to shouting spells and leave the fighting to the professionals."
ROUND 5:
Buoyed by the previous knockdown and the raucous cheers of her supporters, Coleman doesn't give Emma a moment's respite. From the opening bell, she closes the distance with a series of feints and jabs that keep her Brit counterpart constantly on the defensive. Emma, her body already aching and her movements sluggish, tries to weather, but Jenna-Louise's punches find their mark with increasing frequency, her gloves digging into the ribs with left hooks, before punishing her solar plexus with right crosses. Emma's arms become a shield, her gloves trying to deflect the onslaught. But Jenna-Louise muscles and bullies her way in close, launching a vicious uppercut that packs into the sternum, the impact forcing a strangled gasp from Watson’s lips. The blow travels up her body in a sickening wave, momentarily stealing the air from her lungs. Emma’s vision swims, the harsh lights above the ring blurring into a nauseating kaleidoscope. A searing pain erupts in her chest, a white-hot poker jabbing at her insides. Her knees buckle, and for a terrifying moment, she thinks she's going down. But instinct takes over. Emma grits her teeth, digging her heels into the canvas and pushing back with all her remaining strength. The ropes press into her back, a momentary barrier between her and a crushing defeat. She gasps for air, short, desperate breaths that tear at her raw throat. The world seems to slow down, the roar of the crowd a distant echo in her ears. All that exists is the pain, a blinding, all-consuming agony that threatens to drown her. Through the haze of pain, she sees Coleman looming over her, then comes a surge of defiance, fueled anger and a sliver of hope in her eyes. But as the bell rings, the poor Vixen is still slumped over in Jenna-Louise's arms, her body a broken doll. Coleman leans in, her lips brushing against Emma's ear. "You're mine now, princess," she whispers. "I'm going to break you. I'm going to make you wish you'd never stepped into this ring." The words hang in the air, a chilling promise of the violence to come. The crowd erupts, their cheers for Jenna-Louise reaching a fever pitch. Emma, her eyes glazed over with pain, can only whimper in response. She's not just losing the fight, she's losing herself.
ROUND 6:
Coleman attempts to replicate her previous success. She lunges forward from the get-go, her arms a blur as she throws a series of wild hooks. But the power behind her punches is gone, replaced by a desperate flailing. The damage she inflicted on Emma has taken its toll, her own body now betraying her. Emma, battered but unbroken, senses the shift. She ducks under a wild swing, her movements surprisingly agile for a woman who just moments ago seemed on the verge of collapse. Then, with a fierce cry, she unleashes a powerful right hook that slams into Jenna-Louise's jaw! OUFF! The CRACK echoes through the arena, and Jenna stumbles backwards, her eyes wide with shock. Immediately, Emma presses her advantage, a series of lightning-fast jabs rocking her head back and forth! Left hook, another brutal uppercut, then a final, devastating right cross to the chin!! That’s IT!! Jenna-Louise's body crumples, collapsing onto the canvas, and the arena explodes in a roar, as the referee rushes in, his arm raised as he begins the count! It’s a return KNOCKDOWN for Emma Watson!
"One... Two... Three..." Jenna-Louise lies motionless, her body broken on the stained canvas. Her breathing is shallow, her eyes fluttering closed. "Four... Five... Six..." A flicker of consciousness returns to her eyes, but her body refuses to obey her commands. "Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten!" The referee's voice booms through the arena. That’s IT, folks! It’s OVER!
Official Result: Emma Watson defeats Jenna-Louise Coleman via KO6!
AFTER:
There are cheers and boos as Emma raises her arms in victory. A surge of adrenaline courses through her veins, an intoxicating mix of triumph and relief. She basks in the spotlight for a moment, her eyes scanning the crowd.
But the cheers quickly fade, replaced by a chorus of boos from the disgruntled crowd. They wanted a different ending, a different victor. Emma's earlier dominance had been met with derision, even as her victory is tainted by the one-sidedness of the opening rounds.
The crowd voices its disapproval, a simmering rage burns within the Harry Potter starlet. She quickly unstraps her gloves, her movements sharp and precise. Then, she strides towards the still-dazed Jenna-Louise, standing over her briefly before grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her head up with brutal force. Below, Jenna-Louise groans, her eyes fluttering open in confusion, while Emma stares down at her, her face a mask of cold fury.
"Remember what you said, darling?" Emma hisses, her voice a venomous whisper. "About this being your world? About me sticking to photo shoots?" Her grip only tightens, forcing Jenna-Louise’s head upwards and back to meet her gaze. The former champ's eyes are filled with pain and humiliation, a stark contrast to the confidence she had exuded just moments earlier.
"Well, guess what, sweetie?" Emma continues, her voice dripping with contempt. "It seems like the only thing you're good at is getting your ass kicked. You're not in the penthouse anymore. You're in MY ring."