I’am right here

[Monsy]

A black limousine rolls across a smooth circular asphalt driveway, surrounding a polished ivory fountain. Glistening water overflowed from the raised glass of the ghost-woman, and well-trimmed hedges padded the outskirts, with a vast field, decadent with sparse apple trees and tall spiky fences on the far end, almost out of view. They stopped when the hedges parted before a twenty-foot-long fitted stone pathway that led to a monolithic C-shaped stone manor, with its wings coming forward and the main entrance at its heart. The chauffeur opened the door, dressed in a tight black suit, letting out another man step out, who nodded and soaked it all in. "Thank you." He said, uhm… Wow… This…"

His eyes darted everywhere, from the warm to cold colour organization of flowers that lined the house's skirt, the monstrous gold-coloured windows, ivory trim, the jagged stones that nearly jumped at you. The bastions on the roof resembled old bulwarks, and the second-floor balcony over the main door had two red-headed women standing there, one with a long mane and straight bangs, and the other with a ponytail. He pointed at the former, "Uuhhh… Is that who am I supposed to meet?" The driver looked, then shook his head. "No. That is the mother of who you're here to see. I'm sure Master Karla will arrive soon."

After two minutes, his eyes darted to the roar of two Lamborghini Aventadors ripping down the driveway. Their devil eyes stared at him as they raced side-by-side, one blue, the other red. The latter thrust ahead with one scream of its tires and loud engine purr as it turned into another gear. The nerves in his neck twisted when the vehicles didn't slow at the driveway; their tails whipped out and screeched like a banshee, drifting, then stopping on the opposite side of the house, white smoke lifting from its tires. The doors jarred open slowly. One redhead woman emerged from each vehicle on the driver's side, and the passengers were more suited men, one old, the other young. "You've improved, Karla. We’ll make a true racer out of you, yet." Karla flipped her hair back, "Same time next week? Perhaps we need to find a more difficult course." The servant nodded, and Karla turned to Maria, who laid over the hood, sunbathing with closed eyes. Karla whipped her keys at her stomach, "Hey, you." Maria groaned, then peeped an eye open. "It looks like you lost like usual. Go park both, I have business to attend to." Maria stuck her thumb up, and Karla walked across the driveway, joining the chauffeur and the guest.

"You must be Samuel Delgado. Right?"
Samuel nodded, "Y-Yes, I am." He stuck his hand out, "It's um. A pleasure to really be here. I didn't think."

Karla interrupted, "What, that you'd fly on a private jet, spend two nights in luxury hotels between stops, be served meals by reknown chefs and have it all for free? Call it my welcoming gift, please. I wanted to give a taste of what it's like to live like us."

"Y-Your family?" He asked, and Karla rolled her eyes, "No. Me. I meant me."

She peered down at his hand, still outstretched, then looked up as she delved into her black coat pocket to don a leather glove and shake his hand. "Karla Ray Reinhardt. I know you've travelled far to take my statement for LAW. Come. Let's head to my office and get this business over with."

For a short woman, she moved down the pathway quickly, which made Samuel nearly have to scurry his scrawny legs, adjust his glasses and lean forward to catch her face a bit. "For the Apex event, correct? The event that'll determine LAW's inaugural openweight Champion."

"Utututut. Save the questions for when you get the camera rolling." Karla said with a gloved index finger sticking up. "O-Ok…" Samuel said, looking forward.

They went under the balcony's shadow, then opened the door, greeted by a white-suited servant who wore a black tie. He had grey hair, bald on top, wrinkles that put him over fifty, and his voice was like gravel. "Good afternoon, Master Karla. Mister Delgado."

Karla walked by, and Samuel stopped to nod, then stuck his hand out. "Thank you. It's a pleasure to be here." The butler reluctantly completed the exchange, then wiped his hand on his coat, forced a smile and nodded. "Head up the centre staircase, turn down the left hall and it's the door on the end. That's where you'll meet Master Karla."

Samuel nodded and walked on. The foyer was like a stadium. You can see the second-floor balcony wrapping around the whole thing, with two staircases on his flanks, then a grand, open V flight just ahead, varnished by ivory railings that glimmered underneath the natural light from the ceiling glass dome window. And when he peered up, he saw the shape of a third round balcony as well. "Wow…" He dragged the ends of his feet, turned around and retreated towards the staircase. The place was quiet for so many faces. He spotted at least six here standing at attention near doorways, yet the loudest things were his shoes scrape.

"Excuse me." A voice said. Samuel shrieked, his hands folded up and fingers shrivelled into his palm. His heart spiked inside his chest, and he choked-coughed. "AH." Another servant stopped him at the stairs, and Samuel turned around and put his hand on his chest. "Hoo… You scared me."

The servant drew a black rectangular case from inside his coat, placed it on his left palm and opened it with his right. Red fur-textured casing lined the inside. Gold necklaces, diamond rings, an emerald broach. "Master Karla would like you to wear this. She thinks it'll go nicely with your ugly turtleneck. Her words. Not mine." Samuel checked himself, then put his hand up in front of his chest. "U-Um… I'm good." But the servant stepped in his way. "Her words. Not mine."

He donned the necklace around his neck, then went around the servant to trudge up the stairs, but stopped halfway, turned around and nodded. "T-Thank you."

He squinted at the natural light from the large arching window on the back wall when he opened the door. Bookshelves lined the flanks, interrupted by parallel loveseats and self-portraits above them. There was also a camera on a tripod and a mahogany desk at its heart. Karla was sitting on the lip, kicking her feet about. "Guten Tag." She snapped her fingers. "Hundchens." Then pointed to the floor. "Hands and knees. Give our friend Samuel a seat."

They took three steps and nodded, and Samuel blushed. These were women.〝T-They… um, that's not necessary." His hand waved them off, "There's a seat over there. I think I'll take that instead? 〞Then Karla replied.〝Actually, I’d like you to sit on their backs." Her smile looked like venom that already sucked the spine from his veins. And the girls did as told, making a three-foot gap between themselves and lined up parallel. Karla went over to the tripod camera, opened the side and pressed record. Samuel sat down on her spine, and the girl yelped. "O-Oh… I-I should." Samuel stammered, but Karla reassured , "No. It's fine. It's just her first, well, second time." And then she seated the other girl's back, who growled.

He looked at his shaking hands, put a thumb on his palm and steadily relaxed his weight. Karla was waiting with one leg over the other, smiling, pursing her lip.

"I… Ok." Samuel muttered, then sucked in a deep breath… "Karla… Ray… Reinhardt… Otherwise known as Miss Main Event. Also as K.R.R, your maiden ring name. It's in LAW's interest to know what your intentions are for LAW's Apex Event. There are rumours you plan on entering to prove yourself as the Main Event of LAW."

Karla's smile became lopsided, "Prove? That’s a callous choice of words, Mister Samuel. This isn't about proving myself, this is about LAW making the right decision. The correct call for business."

Samuel leaned forward, so his elbows rested on his knees. "And what makes you the right call?"

Karla mirrored his posture. "Have you enjoyed your trip, Samuel? All those things you experienced at my expense. The private jet that transported you across nations to see me. Five-star hotels, resorts, even a condominium of mine. Your meals were made by renowned chefs, who took time out of their schedules because I asked. And that necklace around your neck. The vehicles. This place. That's only a taste of my lifestyle. My everyday life that I've built. If LAW is to have a Champion to represent itself, then isn't it vital that they live like a Champion? Wealthy lifestyles reflect power, after all. And people in positions of power live wealthy lifestyles.”

Samuel replied… "Yes… Well, it was… An experience." Then Karla added, "An unforgettable three days." And snickered.

Samuel coughs in his hand, "However, with a Champion of anything comes a certain honour. It's my belief, and u-uh many others that people want a Champion who they can respect and look up to. Be the face of LAW itself. And um…If I may be blunt. You’ve done some uncourteous things…” He gulped, “You’ve beaten your opponents before and after the bell, y-you’ve snuck weapons when it wasn’t allowed. You’ve injured and exploited people’s injuries. They’re not even opponents to you, are they? You rub their legacies through the mud… You cheat, lie, brutalise and humiliate. Yet call each one a puppy… Is that what a Champion should be like?"

"Are you implying that I should be remorseful for these actions? That somehow, these rules you're accusing me of breaking apply to me? Because the answer to both is no. It’s always been no. I am not subject to whatever morals you're reprimanding me of, and especially not when I’m Champion. I am the one who sets the rules for everyone else. My rules. And when I’m champion, you’ll be sure to learn respect…"

She reached down to grab the girl's ponytail, then yanked it back, making them groan. "You see this? These are pro wrestlers. Fighters. Yet here they are, giving their backs, surrendering their pride and their mercy, all to me. I make them respect me. They are grateful to have someone that controls them. They don't need to think, just follow. It's freedom from every worry of being good enough. Just like LAW will not have to worry about being good enough when I'm Openweight Champion. And you know why that is? Why all of this? The wealth, the power, the reverence I hold? It's because everything I touch becomes mine. And if there were a better person to be Champion, then they'd be just like me. And there isn’t enough beloved underdogs, superstars, veterans or rising everyday women to stop me. No amount of cliche heartfelt speeches about dreams, sacrifice and hard work holds a candle to what I am. And it does not matter if they think it’s their time to shine." She laughed, "Because this isn’t their time. And it never will be their time. Because they're here…" She put her hand down to her ankles, then she straightened and pointed to herself. "And I'am right here."