135. The Women's Segment

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As the clock ticked past 9 PM, the meeting wrapped up. Jack rose from his chair, extending his hand once more to the founders. "Thank you for your time and trust. I'm confident this is the start of something extraordinary," Jack said, his tone warm but resolute. Jack Dorsey smiled, his handshake firm. "Likewise. Let's make it happen."

Stepping out of Twitter Headquarters, Jack and his team were greeted by the cool San Francisco night air. Despite the late hour, Jack felt a surge of energy and satisfaction. They had secured a groundbreaking deal, one that would not only reshape Twitter's future but also further solidify Nexum Core's position as a powerhouse in tech investment.

As his team boarded the waiting black SUVs, Jack took a moment to send a quick text to Sandro: "Deal closed. Nexum Core now owns 15% of Twitter. Let's catch up soon, I've got some surprise news you'll want to hear in the near future." He smiled as he hit send, imagining Sandro's reaction. His son's ambition and drive reminded Jack of himself at that age, and he was eager to share the fruits of his latest success.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, the city lights casting a soft glow over the interior of the SUV. Jack stared out the window, his mind racing with thoughts of what was next. The Twitter deal was a milestone, but it was only one piece of a much larger puzzle.

Arriving at the hotel, Jack decided to unwind with a glass of bourbon at the hotel bar. As he sipped the amber liquid, he couldn't help but reflect on the long-term implications of the day's events. The Twitter investment wasn't just about profit; it was about influence, innovation, and staying ahead in an ever-changing landscape.

Jack pulled out his phone again, scrolling through emails and checking updates on other Nexum Core ventures. His mind was always working, always looking for the next opportunity. But tonight, he allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction.

In Orlando, the Florida sun streamed through the blinds of Sandro's apartment. Groggy and still shaking off sleep, Sandro instinctively reached for his iPhone on the nightstand. Unlocking it, his eyes were drawn to the unread message from his father. Opening it, he read the words carefully:

"Deal closed. Nexum Core now owns 15% of Twitter. Let's catch up soon. I've got some surprise news you'll want to hear in the near future."

Sandro leaned back against the headboard, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Relief washed over him. It was more than just good news; it was a seismic shift in their family and business trajectory.

Twitter, which would become the world's most influential social media platform in his past life, was now partially under Nexum Core's control. A tool wielded by politicians, celebrities, and power players was now an extension of Jack's calculated empire.

Sandro quickly typed a response, keeping it short yet enthusiastic:

"That's incredible news, Dad. Can't wait to hear more about the surprise. Proud of you."

Hitting send, Sandro placed the phone back on the nightstand, a newfound excitement bubbling in his chest. His father's moves in the business world were always strategic, always purposeful, and this investment felt like the beginning of something much larger. While curious about the surprise, Sandro chose not to pressure Jack. He trusted his father's timing.

The week flew by in a blur of training sessions, promotional shoots, and endless conversations about the upcoming War Games pay-per-view. Sandro barely had time to process his father's groundbreaking deal as he prepared for one of the biggest matches of his career.

Monday arrived, the day of FCW's live television broadcast, a critical episode leading into the highly anticipated War Games event on Saturday. The atmosphere backstage was electric, with production crews scrambling to finalize last-minute details, wrestlers rehearsing promos, and the unmistakable hum of anticipation filling the air.

Sandro arrived early, as was his routine, carrying a gym bag over his shoulder. His mind replayed last week's chaotic episode, particularly the brutal match against Joe and the subsequent beatdown. His ribs still ached, but the pain only fueled his determination to deliver an unforgettable performance tonight.

The show opened with a backstage segment featuring April and Davina Rose. The camera focused on April, who appeared disheveled and downcast. She wandered the hallways of the FCW arena, her body language exuding defeat. A few weeks ago, she had lost her rematch for the FCW Divas Championship, and it was clear the loss weighed heavily on her.

April's character, known for her fierce determination, now looked like a shadow of her former self. She dragged her feet, her head bowed, her shoulders slumped, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy she once brought to the ring.

As April rounded a corner, she crossed paths with Davina Rose, whose character was the embodiment of optimism and warmth. Davina, dressed in colorful ring gear that matched her upbeat persona, paused mid-step when she saw April's despondent state. Her expression shifted from her usual cheerful demeanor to one of concern.

"April!" Davina called out, her voice filled with genuine care. She rushed over, gently grabbing April's arm to stop her.

"What's wrong? You look... off," Davina said, tilting her head in curiosity.

April hesitated, biting her lip as if debating whether to open up. "It's nothing," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Davina wasn't convinced. "Come on, it's not nothing. You're one of the strongest people I know, and seeing you like this, it's not you."

April sighed, her eyes darting away. "I just... I lost my rematch, Davina. I worked so hard, and it wasn't enough. Maybe I'm not good enough anymore."

Davina's face softened, her natural empathy taking over. "Hey, don't say that. You are good enough. You're April, one of the toughest, most talented wrestlers in FCW and the inaugural Divas champion. Losing a match doesn't change that."

April remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor. Davina stepped closer, her signature bright smile returning.

"You know what you need?" Davina asked, her tone light.

"What?" April responded, her voice flat.

"A hug," Davina declared, wrapping her arms around April before she could protest. The embrace was warm, almost comically exaggerated, in line with Davina's bubbly character.

April's initial reaction was stiff, but as the hug lingered, a small, reluctant smile crept onto her face. She patted Davina on the back awkwardly, as if unsure how to respond.

"Thanks, Davina," April said softly.

"Anytime," Davina replied, stepping back but keeping her hands on April's shoulders. "Now, let's go out there and remind everyone why you're one of the best. No more sulking. Deal?"

April hesitated before nodding. "Deal."

The segment ended with Davina leading April toward the locker rooms, a glimmer of hope now visible in April's expression.

Watching the segment unfold on a monitor backstage, Sandro couldn't help but nod in approval. The chemistry between April and Davina was natural, and it added a compelling layer to their characters. As someone who valued storytelling in wrestling, Sandro appreciated how even small moments like this could resonate with fans.

Tonight's show promised to be pivotal. The fallout from last week's chaos, combined with the anticipation of War Games, had fans buzzing. Social media was ablaze with predictions, fan theories, and excitement, much of it revolving around Sandro's involvement in the pay-per-view.

The energy in the FCW arena was palpable as the live show transitioned from the heartfelt backstage segment with April and Davina to an in-ring segment featuring Nicole and Brianna.

The crowd's murmur grew louder as the camera panned to the ring, where Nicole, the reigning FCW Divas Champion, stood alongside her twin sister and confidante, Brianna.

The two had matching smirks, though Nicole's eyes darted around the arena as if searching for unseen threats. Her body language betrayed a growing sense of paranoia, a stark contrast to the cocky confidence that usually defined her character.

The microphone in her hand trembled slightly as she began to speak, her voice carrying a tone of frustration and unease.

"You know," Nicole started, pacing the ring, "being the FCW Divas Champion means you're at the top of the food chain. It means every single person in that locker room wants what you have."

She raised the championship belt high above her head, the overhead lights glinting off the gold. "And you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm used to being a target. But lately…" She paused, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the crowd. "Lately, it feels like I can't trust anyone. Like there are challengers hiding in every shadow, waiting to ambush me."

The audience responded with a mix of boos and cheers, clearly enjoying her unraveling state of mind. Brianna, standing at her side, nodded in agreement, her arms crossed over her chest.

"And that's why," Nicole continued, her voice rising with intensity, "I've decided to take matters into my own hands. If no one else is going to have my back, then I'll make sure I'm protected. Ladies and gentlemen, meet my insurance policy… my bodyguard."

The crowd erupted in a mix of intrigue and speculation as Nicole's words hung in the air. The arena lights dimmed, and the opening notes of unfamiliar music hit the speakers. A wave of anticipation rippled through the crowd as a spotlight illuminated the entrance ramp. From behind the curtain emerged Rebecca Knox.

The Irish lass stormed onto the stage with an aura of raw confidence and intensity. Dressed in ripped jeans, a leather jacket, and a pair of combat boots, she exuded the persona of a no-nonsense, tomboyish enforcer.

Her fiery red hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her piercing blue eyes scanned the arena with an almost predatory glare. Every step she took toward the ring was deliberate, her swagger conveying that she was not someone to be trifled with.

The audience, unsure how to react, offered a mix of cheers and jeers as Rebecca climbed into the ring. Nicole handed her the microphone, her paranoia seemingly eased now that she had an intimidating presence by her side.

Rebecca raised the mic to her lips, her Irish accent thick and unmistakable. "You lot don't know me, but you're about to." She smirked, her tone dripping with menace. "Nicole here's made a smart choice. She's the champ, and champs need someone who's got their back. Someone who's not afraid to break a few heads if it comes to that."

She turned her gaze to Nicole, who nodded approvingly. "I don't take nonsense from anyone," Rebecca continued, "and if anyone's thinking about coming for her or that title… well, let's just say you'll have to go through me first."

The crowd's reaction was electric, with a chorus of boos directed at Nicole for her cowardly move, mixed with cheers for the undeniable charisma Rebecca brought to the role. Nicole stepped forward, a sly grin on her face.

"With Rebecca by my side," Nicole declared, "I'm untouchable. So, to anyone in the back who thinks they can take this title from me—think again. You're not just dealing with me. You're dealing with her."

The segment concluded with Nicole raising her championship belt while Rebecca stood stoically behind her, arms crossed, glaring out at the crowd. The visual was powerful, cementing Rebecca as a force to be reckoned with and heightening the tension surrounding Nicole's title reign.

Watching the segment on a monitor backstage, Sandro couldn't help but admire how seamlessly Rebecca had stepped into her role. Her new persona debut as Nicole's bodyguard added a fresh dynamic to the Divas division, and it was clear that the fans were already invested.

"That was solid," Sandro muttered to himself, nodding in approval. As someone who deeply valued storytelling in wrestling, he appreciated how even a short promo could elevate characters and build anticipation.

But there wasn't much time to dwell on it. Sandro's own segment was coming up soon, and he needed to focus. Adjusting his gear, he ran through his promo one last time in his head. Tonight's show was a critical stepping stone toward War Games, and he knew the stakes couldn't be higher.

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Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 19 (2009)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA

Brand: FCW

Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style

Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)

Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions