“Sinner & Saint: Creed III” Chapter 7
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"I must be lost in my regrets
I must be down I must be stressed
I've got like 13 years of age that I ain't still got off my chest
It must be so much more to life if I had diamonds and baguettes
I must be stupid, fucking shaded
Must be down I must be stressed
I must be
Sabotaging me till I'm forced to rip the mask off
This lobotomy is just a reflection of the last lost
This body is in remembrance of the last lost
And this lady is too pretentious of the mascot
Look got a 22 I wouldn't call this bitch a catch-22
But here is your body back that I can dig for you
Let me live for you, let me crawl inside your body
Make a meal of you and tell you how many times I ain't feelin you, bitch"
Doechii—"Stressed"
Donnie stood outside the Moroccan restaurant, waiting for Damian to show up. Cars flowed past him on the corner and a few fans stopped to get pictures of him when they recognized his face. A car horn rooted, and Damian's SUV whipped past toward the parking structure. Waiting a few minutes more, he spotted Damian jogging toward him.
"Sorry I'm late, man. Traffic was a bitch on the ten," Damian said.
"You're good. We just got the table ten minutes ago," Donnie said.
They clasped hands and bumped shoulders, moving past a waiting line of patrons. Other fans nodded and shouted Donnie's name as he strode toward an elevator that whisked them up twenty floors to the rooftop dining area. He waved at a star NBA player who knew his sister before they found Bianca curled up on the low-cushioned seats.
"Eating on the floor," Damian said.
"Not exactly," Bianca said.
She stood from the North African pillows and held out her hand to Damian. He clasped it gently.
"Great to finally meet you," Bianca said.
Their first-course entrée arrived, and Bianca waved her hand for them all to sit down.
"They have like these special meal groupings, so I picked us something that I thought we could sample before ordering. I hope you don't mind, Damian."
"Dame," Damian said.
Damian sprawled out on the comfortable pillows across from them. Part of their seating surrounded a small controlled fireplace in a private section with low candle lighting and a partial plexiglass window view of city lights.
"This is nice… real nice," Damian said.
They ate braised lamb tenders with a chickpea and eggplant salad as a starter with sweet and bitter coffee. Spicy chicken briwat and beef kefta tangine filled them up with Damian gulping down water to cool his tongue.
Donnie monitored Bianca because she was a great reader of people and she was genuinely comfortable being around Damian. There was a charismatic charm about him, and the constant smiles she could pull out of him helped Donnie relax with his childhood friend. They lounged around the fire talking about old homies in Crenshaw and Leimert Park. Bianca enjoyed the reminiscing and tugged on her small diamond earring before rubbing her shoulder against Donnie's. She looked into his face before glancing at Damian.
"Curious. What happened with you two?" Bianca said.
Donnie stared into her eyes. Damian studied his expression to the question.
"Oh, he didn't tell you?" Damian said.
Donnie looked across the fire, and a sardonic grin creased Damian's lips. He leaned back in his seat.
"We was like brothers… back then there was nobody tighter than me and Donnie. Unfortunately, the streets do what the streets do. I got caught up in some mess and went to the pen."
Bianca blinked in surprise.
"That's why we lost contact over the years. I won the Golden Gloves and went to a six by eight-foot cell soon after, instead of starting my boxing career."
"Oh…."
Bianca sought Donnie's eyes, and they locked with questions that he wasn't ready to answer at that moment.
"I was the best though…"
Damian rubbed his hands together and stared at the fire.
"The best amateur boxer out of California, out of the nation… had people lined up waiting to see me go pro. Had a Nike endorsement on the table and everything. I was on the march to be the champion of the world. But I never got a chance to prove that," Damian said.
"I'm sorry, Damian… I didn't know—"
"Water under the bridge, Bianca. It's a new day. I'm a new man. I won't let my past mistakes keep me down and out. Donnie here is making sure I stay on the straight and narrow with a new opportunity to make a comeback. Ain't that right, D?" Damian said.
Donnie nodded his head and clapped his hands together.
"Dame, I'm about to begin a new chapter in my business plans. I'm opening a new gym soon that's bigger and better. State-of-the-art and everything. After this Conlan fight, I'm moving into managing and promotions. I want you on my team. You deserve a shot with the best behind you," Donnie said.
He reached into his wallet and pulled out the brand-new business cards he had printed up. Passing it to Damian, he laced his fingers together.
"Once you turn pro, I'll set up a meeting and offer you a contract," Donnie said.
"You serious?" Damian said.
Damian fingered the card and stuffed it in the front right pocket of his jean jacket. He tugged on the earth-brown beanie he wore and sat up.
"Very," Donnie said. "Smokey has nothing but praise for your skills. What we're trying to do with my new company is back talented athletes as a full package deal. Not just the sports they excel in, but seeing their careers through after they retire. Broadcasting, ownership of sports teams, broader product endorsements outside of athletics," Donnie said.
Bianca curled her arms around his bicep.
"Donnie has created the blueprint for how Black and Brown athletes can extend their value beyond the usual expiration date," Bianca said.
Donnie accepted his wife's praise, although his plans came about because of Athena's prodding. Twiddling his thumbs for two years trying to figure out what was next post-boxing took time to figure out. Attending one of his sister's marketing seminars helped home in on what he wanted out of his new company. Damian was a good fit. Keeping him close also kept a lid on any controversy about Donnie knowing him from way back. Still… there was the fear of Damian's bid being linked to Donnie's involvement in it if the man ever told the truth.
The fear of that stewed in his belly as he observed Damian admiring the far-reaching view so high in the sky. Donnie didn't want the past to create a present scandal with his brand or his family. He couldn't afford to lose everything he built up. The public was unforgiving of rich celebs falling off their pedestals. Too many people outside of his family depended on him for their livelihood, too.
Bianca rubbed her arms at the cooling temperature. He paid the tab with cash.
"We should get back to Amara before it gets late," Bianca said.
Donnie lifted her coat and helped her put it on. Damian stood up with them.
"Thanks for dinner," Damian said.
They all walked out together, rode the elevator to the lobby, and parted on the street. Donnie contacted their driver for the evening, and they waited for their private chauffeur to gather them.
"Were you ashamed to let me know he went to prison?" Bianca asked.
Her gaze quizzed him.
"It happened so long ago that I almost forgot he existed. Dame was the one person I could count on, even before Mary Anne found me in juvie. My life changed, and it was so easy to let so many people go. I should've stuck by him. Ma didn't let me and made sure I focused on my future. Didn't even look back once. I feel bad Bianca."
"You're helping him now. But what I want to know is… what was your part in his lockup? Your body language all night has been tense and jumpy. I know how you express guilt, D. It's all over your face. If I hadn't asked Damian about you two, would you have told me yourself?"
"Yeah, but it's complicated. We were so young. One stupid move I made fucked up his life."
Bianca slipped her hand into his. He couldn't keep his eyes from welling up.
"We can talk when we get home, okay?" she said.
She hugged him around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.
"No matter what, helping him get back to boxing is a good thing to repair that long separation," she said.
Their private driver arrived and Bianca held his hand tight. Back home, they checked in with Amara before seeing Taylor off for babysitting. Bianca shared a sweet flaky pastry from the restaurant with their daughter, and Donnie spent time signing with her on her giant princess canopy bed before she went to sleep.
"What do you want for your birthday, Ladybug?" Donnie signed.
Amara scrunched up her face as Bianca walked back in, tying a headscarf over the girl's springy curls.
"I want to see you fight in Las Vegas," Amara signed passionately.
Donnie glanced at Bianca.
"Ladybug…" Bianca signed.
"This will be my only chance. Daddy won't fight anymore. You promised I could see when I was older," Amara signed.
Donnie held his daughter's hand. Her inquisitive brown eyes pleaded with them. Bianca's fingers moved quickly, and she spoke out loud.
"We did promise her," Bianca said.
"Mommy and Daddy have to talk about it. We'll get back to you," Donnie signed.
"That feels like a 'no'," Amara signed, with a frown on her face.
"We will talk about it fairly," Bianca signed. "Sleepy time, Ladybug. Get under the covers."
They tucked Amara in, gave her double kisses, and left her room. Bianca followed Donnie down the stairs and into their spacious den. She relaxed on a long ottoman and patted the space next to her. Donnie joined her side, lifted her hand, and took a deep breath before he spoke.
Donnie felt afraid.
He woke up early with Bianca by his side, but his wife faced away from him on their bed. Their bedroom window was open slightly to let in the fresh air, so she must've woken up earlier and crawled back into bed after opening it.
The words he spoke to her the previous night had never been spoken to anyone. Not even Mary Anne. If his adopted mother suspected the truth, she kept it to herself to protect him. He threw a hand over his eyes and Bianca stirred next to him. She shifted her body to face him and placed her left arm across his waist.
"Awake?" she asked.
He nodded. She touched his lips, and he removed his arm from hiding his eyes.
"I want you to know that I love you, and what happened eighteen years ago does not define you," she said.
"Being young and dumb doesn't excuse it," he said.
"I didn't say it did. Damian loved you enough to take all the charges. I wish things had shaken out differently for him, but he made a choice—"
"I was lucky. I had Mary Anne."
"Thank God for that, Donnie."
"Truth is, I didn't even need that stupid burner. Dame could handle himself better than anybody, but I wanted to be there for him… protect him from all those jealous niggas that wanted him to fail. All them crabs in the barrel pulling at him. I just didn't think it would backfire and cause him to lose his freedom, y'know? I've always had poor impulse control… popped off when I should've listened to Dame and just left that liquor store. Two people lost their lives that night. Dame and that store owner. It was an accident, Bianca. I swear. I had no intention for that shit to go that far—"
Bianca covered his lips with her hand. He stroked her wrist and closed his eyes.
"What's done is done. You're making up for it now," she said.
"But I didn't hold him down, Bianca. That's what your brother is supposed to do for you when times get tough. I faded from his life so smoothly, like nothing happened… like our friendship never existed. We had a code to look out for each other. I turned the other way instead."
"Be there for him now. He told us himself last night… water under the bridge. You could've died. He saved your life. That's all I care about," she said.
Amara bounced into their room, signing fast and furious, her excited huffs of breath making them laugh and setting aside the Damian situation.
Breakfast was quick pancakes and sausages and Donnie gave Bianca some alone time to work in her home music studio. He scooped Amara up in his arms and inspected her boxing workout gear. Driving through town was easy on an early Sunday morning, and it did not surprise him to see Damian working with Smokey in the ring with bands on his legs to go over footwork. Donnie gave a head nod, and Damian pointed to Amara with his glove.
"It's her," Donnie said with pride
He plopped down their shared workout bag near an open punching bag and pulled off his sweatshirt. They warmed up with jumping jacks, cherry pickers, and arm stretches before he guided Amara over to the bag.
"Watch me first, okay?" he signed.
"I got this, Daddy," Amara signed with a smug grin.
Donnie bent his body low and slowly demonstrated the type of punches he wanted his daughter to do. Amara was a quick learner. She punched the bag without gloves and he called out moves for her. After thirty minutes, he grabbed hand pads and knelt down before her. Strong jabs came his way. Because he couldn't sign with his hands covered, he allowed her to work out her own combinations until she needed a break. They sipped water together before moving on to jump ropes. He sat on a folding chair and studied her form. Her curls were full of sweat, and it dripped down her face, which was full of concentration.
When she was ready, he fixed up her gloves and let her hit the bags again on her own. He walked around the gym to see how other boxers were doing and stopped to check out Damian. Bulky and heavily covered up with his sweatshirt, Damian sparred with Smokey and Donnie could see the pleasure in the old man's eyes working with the newcomer.
He felt a jab in his right side. Amara grinned up at him. He ducked and moved, tapping the top of her head to tease her, and she fought back before chasing him toward the punching bags. She was so excited to be around the boxing life and enjoyed learning the sport. He didn't know if his father had pugilist dreams for any of his children, but watching his little girl develop serious skills impressed him. Maybe she deserved to see him fight in person.
Her fingers were fluid, signing to him. Private words he needed to know.
Donnie rocked on his heels, holding his gloves up to his chest, swinging them gently while his wife helped him focus on his task. Defeat Ricky Conlan. Stitch, Tony, and his daughter watched him at a respectful distance. Bianca stepped back and Amara approached him with wide eyes. Her small, thin fingers danced in front of him.
"You are the best, Daddy. I love you," she signed.
He bent over and kissed her forehead. Amara threw her arms around his wide shoulders. She wore a satin shirt and skirt that matched the red, white, and blue of his trunks with their last name stitched across the front in gold embroidery on her top.
"It's time, " Tony said.
Bianca led Amara out of the room, and he threw a few jabs toward Tony to loosen up.
"That man is washed. All you're doing is putting him to bed with milk and cookies," Tony said.
Donnie laughed, and Stitch chuckled, too.
"This fight is the perfect swan song to your career in the ring. You will go out there and show them why you have been the best for seven years. That past loss to Conlan was just newbie jitters. This right here, is one for the ages, Donnie. You own boxing. Your career elevated the game in ways your father would be proud of. Go out there tonight and show them why a Creed remains the best there is. The gold standard," Tony said.
Donnie jogged in place, taking in the words like a mantra.
He slipped on his robe and followed his team through the double doors and the welcoming, deafening chants of seventeen-thousand rich fans. Simply stepping into the ring, win or lose, he was making ninety million cash, not even counting the back end. Retirement talk escalated his winnings. His family was set for generations.
His theme music blared in the arena.
Donnie had fans in the Hip Hop community and the hottest rapper around recorded a throbbing bass track with his wife singing on the hook. The satin patriotic robe rubbing against his skin had him feeling like a king facing a bold usurper to the throne.
Conlan stood in the ring waiting for him. Uncertainty rested in his eyes. Prison knocked the pride out of him, and the scent of desperation lingered all around him as Donnie climbed through the ropes. A part of him wilted in disappointment. Athena's prediction seemed imminent. This was Ricky's last hurrah. Hopefully, he put up a good show because millions of eyes were watching them all around the world. Tickets to even be there inside the arena cost upwards of fifty-thousand dollars on the cheap side. Everyone who thought they were somebody was there. He tracked a few high-profile athletes and celebrities screaming at him as he walked through a gantlet of people. Tony held the ropes apart for him to enter the ring.
The referee went over the rules and Donnie's gaze dueled with Ricky's. The psychological games of mean-mugging and aggressive posturing began in earnest. Conlan's beady eyes dredged up memories of their first clash facing off. Time had sculpted and shaped Donnie into an immovable obstacle to all of his competitors. Conlan recognized the seasoned champ Donnie evolved into. He faced a seven-time world champion. The man was going down and Donnie gave him the courtesy of seeing imminent defeat up close without the trash talk. Walking toward his corner to wait for the bell, Donnie's gaze slid to the arena floor seats near him and he caught sight of Bianca, Amara, and Ma. A few rows behind them sat A.J., Athena, and… Damian. They all stood clapping and waiting for the bell to ring. His brother was stolid with his expression, and Athena appeared thrilled to be in the mix. Damian stood next to her with eyes of pure, solid focus.
The bell rang and Donnie sprang out of his corner to face his very last career opponent.
Damian felt walls close in all around him.
Overstimulated by the crowds of people, all the noise, and all the movement surrounding him, his body shut down his core function until Athena held his hand and squeezed it. He almost had to flee to the restroom to get away from the pressing of bodies trying to get close to the ring and close to the Creed family.
He closed his eyes and replayed his day.
Athena sent a car for him and he arrived at L.A.X. with his duffle bag filled with weekend clothing and a garment bag with a new suit. He wore a decent pair of slacks and a pressed dress shirt. Expecting to meet Athena in the public terminal, he was taken to the separate terminal for celebrities flying on private jets. He met up with her and A.J. Creed in a VIP lounge before they left to walk across a tarmac toward a white Bombardier Challenger 850 jet with the Creed name splashed across the side in navy blue.
A.J. was curious about him but kept their interactions pleasant with polite inquiries about his training and how he enjoyed living out in Venice. Athena stayed bubbly, and he noticed how hard she tried not to hold his hand or act overly familiar in the presence of her older brother. She had an assistant with her named Max, and despite the festive kick-back weekend feel of going to Vegas, Athena still worked on the seventy-five-minute flight. Damian watched the clouds in the sky for his second trip on a plane ever. His first trip had been to a family reunion in Galveston, Texas, during Juneteenth. He loved it out there and wished he could've lived there as a kid with so many relatives around in one place. Staring out of the jet window, the clouds below looked like giant cotton balls he could jump on.
Athena chatted across from him on her phone and her brother watched the clouds with him.
"Go in the back," A.J. said to her.
"Why?" Athena asked, muting her phone.
"Nobody wants to hear you work," A.J. said, jerking his head toward Damian.
Athena glanced at Damian.
"Sorry, Dame. Last-minute stuff," she said.
"You're good," he said.
Athena stuck out her tongue at her brother and continued talking. Max sat across from her, his seat facing her direction, clacking away on a small laptop. Damian enjoyed hearing her call shots to whoever was on the other end of her phone. She didn't take shit from anybody for an hour. She spent the last fifteen minutes of their flight chatting with Max. The jet banked, and the gentle descent toward the airport below made Damian's stomach flip-flop.
A private car drove them to the MGM Grand Hotel, where luxury suites awaited all of them. Damian thought the dark emerald green coloring looked brighter in person than the pictures he used to look at when Mayweather dominated the sport. The proud gold MGM lion sat facing the strip with garish giant digital advertisements splashing Donnie and Conlan's pictures every few seconds. The fight packed Vegas with high rollers, rich celebs, and people from all over the world who wanted to witness the highly touted blood sport.
They dropped A.J. off at his deluxe room and it floored Damian to see the room she put him up in. Max wandered off to his junior suite and left Damian alone with Athena.
"We don't have to be at the Garden Arena until six, so you can relax, and order in food. Do whatever you like," she said.
He sauntered over to her.
"How does your family feel about me being here?" he said.
She glanced out of the window. The view showed a cool and sunny Vegas strip down below.
"They don't know you're here," she said.
"Oh, no wonder A.J. looked at me weird."
"He knew you were coming. A.J. always looks at people like that," she chuckled.
"It's scary how much he looks like your father. For a second, I thought about calling him, Sir," Damian teased.
Athena giggled, and the sound soothed him.
"Why didn't you tell the others?" he asked.
"You're my guest. I can bring whoever I want and I chose you. There will be so much shit going on, anyway."
"Your mother will have a problem."
"I don't care what my mother thinks about you. She doesn't know you like I do."
"You shouldn't bring tension around your family while Donnie has to stay mentally tight."
"They've been in Vegas all week with him. We won't see them until we hit the arena. By then, who cares?"
She touched the collar of his shirt.
"I don't want you fretting about them. I brought you here because I want you to see what could be yours one day. Look out there. The top of the world in boxing."
Her eyes held his gaze.
"I'm happy you came with me," she said.
Her cell buzzed in her purse.
"Are you working all weekend?" he asked.
"No."
She checked her cell and rolled her eyes playfully.
"I'll take this in my suite. It's my mother. I'm down the hall if you need me for anything. Order anything you want. It's on the house. MGM is bending over backward for us. You can get free gambling chips at guest services if you want. I'll hit you up later," she called out, heading to the door.
Damian stared at his surrounding suite. The ease of luxury for the Creed family was mind-boggling. He looked over a menu sitting near the living room phone and ordered a lavish brunch spread of steak omelets, chicken marsala crepes, hash browns, and champagne. After his food arrived, he took off his clothes and used one of the complimentary hotel robes to stroll around in while being naked underneath. Eating and drinking alone, he stared out of the window and watched the teeming hordes of tourists walking from hotel to hotel looking for their stimulation fix with gambling, food, and other entertainment like mindless zombies.
With his belly full, he toured his suite thoroughly and became delighted at finding a jacuzzi waiting for him in another section of his suite facing the window. He dropped his robe, turned on the hot tub water jets, and slipped down into the steamy liquid.
"Ah… shit… this is it," he said out loud.
He jumped out with his penis flopping about to grab the champagne bottle and his glass from the living room. He returned to the jacuzzi, jumped back in, and drank to his heart's content. A quick nap ate up his time afterward, and by four, he was ready for an early dinner. Athena left him a text that she was eating with her family in Mary Anne's suite. Donnie wasn't with them, preferring to stay alone in a ritualized pre-fight routine. He popped down to an in-house restaurant called Crush and ordered the filet mignon with lobster mac 'n cheese, signing the check to his suite. After eating dinner, he walked around to watch gamblers before heading back to his room.
Damian showered and went to open his garment bag with a towel wrapped around his waist. Unzipping the bag, he pulled out his suit and a small purple gift bag fell on the floor. He lifted it and saw Athena's handwriting on a small card attached to the bag.
"I thought this might be nice on you. Enjoy. Athena."
He pulled out a Tom Ford brand of cologne he never heard of before. The fancy bottle was black and gold, and Damian carried it to the enormous bathroom, sitting it next to his other toiletries. He splashed some in his palm, rubbed his hands together, and dabbed it over pulse points. Staring at himself, he stroked his goatee and ran a hand across the thick curls that stood out. He let it air dry before running a light hair oil across the tips to sculpt distinct peaks. Teeth brushed and flossed, suited and booted, Damian looked at himself one last time in a full-length mirror on the back of his bedroom door. Athena texted she was ready, and he strolled out of his suite to go to hers.
His eyes almost fell out of his head.
"You like?" Athena said.
She twirled around in her doorway wearing a slinky white satin dress with spaghetti straps. The top was low cut and enhanced the view of her breasts. Diamonds decorated her ears, neck, and fingers, creating a stunning work of art. She tossed back long spiral curls and the dark brown of her smooth skin made her dress glow.
"Damn," he muttered.
She draped a small purse around her arm, and he reached for her hand. Her brother A.J. stepped next to him, and Damian moved back to give him space.
"Ready?" A.J. asked.
Athena walked between the two of them as they marched to the elevator. The hotel lobby was packed, and the energy electrified Damian's nerves. Making their way to the arena, the pulse of excitement rose to a crescendo. They bypassed regular patrons and security escorted them to their seats.
Mary Anne noticed him as they walked into the venue and her lips pursed with disappointment.
"Here we go," Athena whispered to Damian as Bianca brought Amara over to them.
Athena hugged her niece and Bianca.
"Dame," Bianca said.
Damian reached for her hand, but Bianca gave him a warm hug instead.
"Dame, this is my mother, Mary Anne Creed," Athena said.
Mary Anne put on airs because they were in public, but her keen eyes were not welcoming at all. Damian was the worst kind of interloper in her family gathering. Amara signed to Athena, and it surprised him to know she was totally deaf. Bianca and Donnie never mentioned that. Athena's fingers moved quickly and Amara responded with a grin, and then her sly eyes took in Damian's appearance before she signed again with her aunt. Athena gasped and gave Amara a playful head noogie. He didn't know what they said, but from Athena's reaction, it had something to do with him. Photographers gathered around them and Athena excused herself from his side. The Creed family stood in front of the boxing ring, and several flashes went off from other photographers too. Many fans took advantage of the money shot, and Damian had respect for how the family looked together. Athena was the knockout, and a few reporters approached her to talk about the fight. He drank in her appearance, feeling like the luckiest man in the world to know her. Her dress was working its magic on him and he looked away before his body got out of hand, thinking about what was underneath it. The arena filled up more and the walls caved around him. Too much was happening all at once. The noise kicked up and the flashing lights from thousands of cell phones irritated his eyes.
"Damian Anderson."
He turned to his right and a Black man in a tailored double-breasted paisley and gray suit approached him from the aisle. A had reached out to Damian, but he stood there trying to understand how the man knew him.
"I'm Buddy Marcelle, the promoter of this event. I saw your Golden Gloves win back in the day. A shame how things panned out for you. Are you here with the Creed family?" Buddy asked.
"He's here with me," Athena said, sliding next to Damian with a stern voice.
"Interesting," Buddy said. "How do you know each other?"
Damian didn't like the man's tone. It was predatory, as if he didn't want another man near Athena. Damian had only known her for six months. She wasn't his lady, but he put some stank on his tone as if she was.
"Me and her brother go way back," Damian said.
"Dame," she said.
"A.J. or Adonis?" Buddy said.
"Donnie," Damian said.
Buddy's neck tilted as he studied Damian's entire vibe.
"Even more interesting," Buddy said again.
Buddy pulled out a silver card holder from his jacket pocket.
"I hear you're turning pro. Call me when that happens officially. There's a lot of potential money to be made on a good comeback narrative. Do you have a manager?" Buddy asked.
Athena snatched the card.
"Yes, he does. Me."
Buddy was taken aback as much as Damian was.
"Sorry to scoop up raw talent before you, Buddy. You know how it is. The early bird and all that jazz," she said, slipping his card into her purse.
"Wonders never cease to amaze. I see you, Athena. Making money moves. Love to see it. Let's talk soon," Buddy said.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Athena accepted it and the cords on Damian's neck tightened and his jaw muscle twitched. A wave of celebs entered the arena, and the noise broke Buddy's attention. They watched him move toward Mary Anne and Bianca up front, and Damian turned to Athena.
"Manager?" he said.
"You need one that can handle these jackals and hyenas."
"I don't know if business and pleasure should mix," he said.
Her eyes twinkled with the lights from the arena.
"Pleasure?" she said, moving closer to him.
Her perfume yoked him up, but the roar of the crowd made him jump. Athena clasped his wrist.
"Just breathe, Dame. It's a lot to take in, but you're doing great."
He wanted to kiss her right there. She accepted his behavior toward his situational awareness and the moments of panic that could seize him from being around too much stimulation at once. Inhaling deeply, he exhaled as she stroked the knuckles of his right hand to calm him. Tunnel vision seized him and he fought back on the anxiety crushing his chest.
Damian concentrated on Athena's eyes and she brought him back down softly. The arena lights flashed and A.J. rejoined them at their seats. The title bout was about to start.
Music blared from the arena speakers and a rapper with a British accent spouted bars he couldn't comprehend. Rap had changed so much since he had been gone, he had no clue what the style was called. Ricky Conlan bounced down an aisle with his crew and the arena went batshit, surprising Damian. Conlan danced around the ring, waving his arms around with his British Union Jack trunks. He stood on the bottom rope near the left side and hollered like a madman, to incite the crowd onto his side even more.
"Showtime," she said when the lights went out and Bianca's singing voice announced that Adonis Creed was coming out.
Athena clasped his hand as her brother trotted down the aisle surrounded by an elaborate entourage that supported him for years.
"Take it all in, Dame," she said.
He did.
Chapter 8 HERE.
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