Page 122 of Rapunzel Is Losing It

New Yury kept quiet. He didn’t speak. He showed up wherever Old Yury would have been expected to go. His posture was slightly off, but he’d clearly studied Old Yury because his gait matched almost to a tee. Former military, I assumed. Maybe politics if he couldn’t just disappear on a fake passport.

I wouldn’t have particularly cared - but New Yury’s existence meant I didn’t have Old Yury to get me ready for the fight. Even if he’d been a link in my uncle’s chain around my neck, Old Yury had been my trainer all my life. He knew how to get me throughfight nights alive. That was probably why Petya had made the switch the second we’d arrived. My chance of making it through had slimmed considerably without my trainer.

He was hoping Emanuel Silver would kill me.

I zoned out through most of the pre-fight press conference. I was racking my brain for the next time I’d get two minutes alone with my uncle. I wouldn’t need more than that to get close enough to break his neck without earning myself a bullet in the brain.

I’d been scared of running away from him for half my life. He’d kept me on a leash with a lie, perfectly delivered with two urns. That sick bastard had wanted me under his control by any means necessary.

Maybe it was purely practical, or maybe he’d been scared that I’d follow in my father’s footsteps and could actually pull off the coup.

I glanced down at the ink needled into the back of my hands, reminding me of how I fought tooth and nail to feel like I had any semblance of control over my own life. My attention didn’t snap back to the press room until the moderator announced the next question was for me. My gaze met Silas Whitaker’s. For once, he wasn't holding a huge camera but his phone was angled at me. It was stupid but my eyes immediately roamed the room for a head of blonde hair. Of course she wasn't here.

“I’m following a story from a few months ago," he announced to the whole room as if the people here didn't know exactly whose footage had put Cordelia and me on the map.

I noticed a shuffle from the corner of my eye. No doubt Petya was about to cut off the conference.

I leaned into the mic before anyone could interrupt. “I’m assuming this has nothing to do with how I'm about to kick Silver’s ass, and everything to do with Cordelia Montgomery.”

My reply got a few chuckles from the reporters but everyone was waiting for Silas’ actual question.

"Are the rumors true that Cordelia's pregnant? Is that the reason she couldn't be here tonight?”

What the actual fuck? Pregnant? I’d never been more grateful for the ability to keep my face still.

The rest of the room wasn't as good at that. Pens scratched on paper, cameras flashed to capture this moment. People were taking note. People were interested in my answer.

This wasn't Silas asking.

This was Cordelia giving me a chance to speak.

I could take back the narrative.

My eyes found the big official online stream camera with its flashing red light.

“There are so many rumors out there, Silas. I heard one that involved you, me, Cordelia and a hot tub. There's even a rumor that my uncle is involved in human trafficking and that he keeps using my team to smuggle criminals out of Russia. Did you hear that one?” Something clattered just behind the stage but I didn't turn. “Just today I heard a rumor that he replaced my trainer Yury with an almost identical looking man, but he's standing right there, so you judge for yourself. Apparently you can tell by the ears. Ear shapes are almost as unique as fingerprints." There were some angry Russian curses being flung my way. But I was live on the internet. If he put a bullet in me. he'd not get away with it. Cordelia had fearlessly wielded the public eye for months. It was my time to brave whatever consequences doing the right thing would get me.

“All I can say is that most rumors hold a kernel of truth, just not the hot tub ones. So I have no Intention of letting Silver get to me tonight, and I have no intention of ever fighting againaftertonight. I’ll focus on staying healthy enough to be with my fiancé and my family.”

Some more cameras flashed, and reporters leaned into each other, chattering. I hoped that was enough. Announcing my retirement during my comeback year, insinuating that Cordelia and I had a family together… That had to get enough eyes on this.

I stepped of the stage and out of sight of the cameras and reporters. Some official with a clipboard was yapping about where to go and pointing each of us to our locker rooms. A hand clamped around my arm before I reached the clipboard lady.

My uncle’s nostrils flared as he yanked me to the side. He wasn’t even strong enough for that, but the three men behind him, plus New Yury, didn’t exactly leave me much choice.

“If Silver doesn’t put you in the ground tonight, I’ll make it look like he did,” Petya hissed.

“Okay.”

“If your father could see you,” he spat, as if he wasn’t the very reason that my father couldn’t see me right now.

“This way please, Mr. Yelchin, we’re on a tight schedule,” the woman with the clipboard called out.

I bared my teeth at my uncle and yanked my arm free. “If Silver doesn’t put me in the ground tonight, you’ll end up wishing he did.”

I had about three hours before I was expected in the octagon. I’d never prayed a day in my life, but as I walked down the arena hallways to my locker room, I sent a plea to any deity listening that three hours were enough for Silas Whitaker to publish the interview video, and get law enforcement down here.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

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