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xoxorealitygalore · 2 months ago

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Plan B

Jey Uso x Afro-Brazilian OC

Summary: In her thirties and single after a breakup, Hamisa decides she wants to become a mother, despite her friends' and family's objections. Unable to wait any longer, she chooses to have a baby on her own. However, she unknowingly ends up using her ex-boyfriend sperm after he drunkenly swapped her donor’s sample for his own. As Hamisa raises her child, she starts noticing striking similarities between her ex-boyfriend and her baby, leading to questions about the true origins of her child's conception.

Plan B Masterlist

Taglist: @xbriexx @christinabae @blackchickinthedesert

Fifteen long months had passed since Hamisa had last set foot inside the world of WWE, a world that once enveloped her with its chaos, its lights, and its fierce energy. It was a place where she had not only built a career but had woven deep connections, both personal and professional.

The memories flooded back as she walked through the backstage area of the Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, Indiana, where the 2025 Royal Rumble was about to unfold. But this time, there was something more, something that made this night different from all the others.

In her arms, bundled up in a soft pastel pink blanket, was her eight-month-old daughter, Jhream. The little girl had become the light of Hamisa’s life, filling her world with joy, laughter, and an unspoken bond that only a mother and child could understand.

After a year and a half of embracing motherhood, it was time for Hamisa to return, not just for herself, but for her daughter as well. It was a moment she had longed for, a chance to share the world she had once known with the little girl who had changed her life forever.

Backstage, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The air was filled with the unmistakable hum of a WWE event, voices rising and falling, people hurrying to and fro, and the ever-present buzz of activity. The familiar faces around her were older and changed over time, but they were still the same people who had once been a part of her world. Some smiled warmly when they saw her, others gave brief nods, but all seemed to pause for a moment to take in the sight of her, standing there with Jhream in her arms. The baby’s curious eyes scanned the faces, wide and unblinking, soaking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Hamisa walked through the bustling corridors with an eagerness that only a return to the familiar could provoke. Her heart fluttered as she introduced Jhream to anyone who would listen, proudly showing off the little girl who had become the center of her universe. Her excitement was palpable, and the love she felt for her daughter radiated from her, a beam of warmth in the otherwise cold, fast-paced backstage area.

Before long, Pamela, a longtime friend, and WWE veteran, made her way over, having heard that Hamisa was back. Pamela's eyes sparkled with recognition and excitement as she bent down to meet Jhream's gaze. "Look at you, sweet thing," she cooed, her voice soft and affectionate. "You’re so pretty."

Hamisa’s smile deepened as she watched Pamela gently scoop Jhream into her arms. The moment felt almost surreal, Pamela cradled her daughter, offering her a moment of comfort amid the madness that was WWE. The soft cooing sounds Jhream made as she nestled in Pamela’s embrace became like a lullaby, a tender contrast to the chaos around them.

Pamela looked up at Hamisa, her voice filled with a soft awe. "I can’t believe I’m your Godmommy," she said, her tone filled with genuine warmth. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Jhream’s cheek, and the baby, caught in the whirl of affection, responded with a goofy grin, one so exaggerated and mischievous that it took Hamisa by surprise. That grin, was one she had seen before, a flash of pure, unfiltered joy that reminded her so vividly of someone she once knew.

Before she could say anything more, a familiar voice interrupted the moment. "Pamela, Hamisa..." The voice was deep, almost hesitant, and unmistakable.

Hamisa’s breath caught in her throat as she turned. The man who appeared at the corner of the room was none other than Joshua, her ex-boyfriend. The world seemed to pause around her as he stepped into the space where she and her daughter stood. The last time she had seen Joshua had been under far more uncomfortable circumstances when they had parted ways after a disagreement over her decision to use a sperm donor. The tension between them had been thick, the air heavy with words unsaid. Now, more than a year later, their encounter felt awkward, almost strained, though the weight of their past still lingered between them.

Joshua’s eyes scanned the room, and his nervous smile faltered as he made his way over to where Hamisa stood, cradling her daughter. There was a hesitation in his movements, an unspoken uncertainty as he approached, unsure of how to navigate the space between them. His family, including his ex-wife and their sons, had built relationships with Hamisa over the years, and they had adored her. But after the break-up, and after his admission that he couldn’t fully commit to their relationship, things changed. The knot in Joshua’s chest, the memory of their time together, had never quite loosened, and he found himself standing in front of her now, unsure of what to say.

Pamela handed Jhream to Joshua without a second thought. Joshua accepted the baby gently, cradling her as though she were the most precious thing in the world. His eyes softened as he looked down at her, and for a brief moment, the world around them seemed to slow down. The baby was light in his arms, a small, delicate presence that seemed to bring a sense of peace amid everything.

"So, are you visiting or returning?" Joshua asked, his voice soft, but there was an underlying tension that hinted at the weight of their past.

"Returning," Hamisa answered, the word slipping from her lips with a sense of finality as if the decision had been made long ago. She took off her coat, revealing a pair of embellished tights and a curve-skimming pink bodysuit with cutouts that accentuated her form. The transformation was striking, she had returned to the world of WWE not just as a mother, but as a woman ready to reclaim her place in the ring.

Pamela squealed with excitement. "We’re going to be on the road together again," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

Joshua smiled, though it was a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was then that Hamisa noticed the small but significant detail, Joshua and her were both wearing the same color for their wrestling gear. It was an odd coincidence, and for a brief moment, Hamisa felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite identify.

As the conversation continued, Jhream, who had been tugging at Joshua’s beard, caught the attention of Jeyce, Joshua’s twelve-year-old son. Jeyce approached with excitement, his eyes wide with curiosity. "You’re back!" he exclaimed, pulling Hamisa into a warm hug.

"Hi, Jeyce," Hamisa said, smiling as she hugged him back. Jeyce’s gaze shifted to the baby in Joshua’s arms, and his face lit up with wonder.

"Is this Jhream?" Jeyce asked, his voice full of awe.

Hamisa nodded. "Yes."

Joshua handed the baby to Jeyce, who cradled her gently, as though holding a precious treasure. Jhream, for her part, seemed perfectly at ease, a content smile stretching across her face as she gazed up at the young boy. "Wow, she’s so pretty," Jeyce remarked, his voice filled with admiration.

A strange thought flickered through Hamisa’s mind, Jhream’s features, her expressions, the way she moved, it all seemed so familiar. It was as though she had seen them before, in someone else. But she pushed the thought aside, not allowing herself to linger on it too long.

As the backstage conversations continued, Pamela asked the question that Hamisa hadn’t even thought to consider. "Who’s going to watch Jhream while you’re out there for the Women's Royal Rumble match?" she asked, her tone light but laced with concern.

Hamisa hadn’t planned for that. In her excitement to return to the WWE, she hadn’t considered the practicalities of having a baby with her. The Women's Royal Rumble match was about to begin, and she had been focused solely on stepping back into the ring after months away. The last thing she had expected was to be caught up in logistical concerns.

Joshua, sensing her moment of indecision, stepped in. "I’ll watch her," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Good luck out there." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Jhream’s forehead, lingering for a moment longer than he had intended. The gesture, simple as it was, carried with it a weight of unspoken feelings.

Hamisa nodded, her heart filled with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, knowing that at this moment, Joshua was offering more than just a simple favor. He was offering a sense of connection, a thread that tied them together despite the distance between them.

As the show began, Hamisa made her way to the gorilla position, her mind racing with anticipation. She was about to step back into the ring for the first time since her daughter’s birth, and everything felt surreal. The roar of the crowd outside was deafening, and the excitement in the air was almost tangible.

Meanwhile, Joshua took Jhream to the sitting area, where his relatives, including his sister-in-law Trinity, immediately noticed the baby in his arms.

"Is that Hamisa’s baby girl?" Trinity asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "Why do you have her?"

Joshua smiled, his eyes softening as he looked down at the baby in his arms. "I’m watching her for her."

"Is Hamisa in the Rumble?" Joshua’s cousin Jacob asked, his voice full of surprise.

Joshua nodded, a faint but proud smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, she is."

The Women's Royal Rumble match was underway, and Hamisa entered the match at #4, her entrance earning a thunderous pop from the crowd. Her theme song blared through the arena, and the audience sang along, welcoming her back with open arms. She lasted twenty-five minutes in the match, showcasing her skills and holding her own against the fierce competition.

The final four in the match were Charlotte, Nicole, Carla, and Savelina, with Carla being eliminated by Charlotte and Charlotte ultimately winning the match, earning a title shot at WrestleMania 41. As the match came to a close, Hamisa made her way backstage, eager to find her daughter.

When she did, she was taken aback by how natural Joshua looked holding Jhream, as though he had been a part of her life all along. Hamisa took Jhream into her arms, thanking Joshua for watching her, but before she could say anything more, Jonathan, Joshua’s twin brother, took the baby, grinning as he held her up.

"Jhream, tell your mama you’re hanging out with us tonight. She can’t just grab you from us like that," Jonathan teased.

Jhream, ever the charmer, blew raspberries at Hamisa, causing Jonathan to chuckle. "She’s a feisty one," he remarked, as Jhream smiled, showing off her two bottom teeth.

As Hamisa took pictures with her friends and fellow wrestlers, she couldn’t shake the thought that Jhream looked more and more like Joshua with every passing moment. The baby’s facial expressions, especially the way she scrunched her nose, reminded her so much of him, a fact that made Hamisa’s heart flutter in ways she didn’t understand.

She tried to brush it off, telling herself that it was just her emotions playing tricks on her. After all, she had used a sperm donor to conceive Jhream. Joshua wasn’t the father. Yet, every time she looked at her daughter, those similarities felt more and more undeniable.

As the night wore on and the main event approached, Hamisa found herself standing with Jackie, talking about her hybrid role as a backstage interviewer and wrestler. But as Joshua passed by, Hamisa couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling that stirred within her. The baby reached out for Joshua once again, and he gladly took her in his arms.

"She is so cute," Jackie commented, raising an eyebrow. "She looks just like him."

Hamisa’s heart skipped a beat as she struggled to keep her composure. How could a child conceived from a sperm donor look so much like her ex-boyfriend?

The questions swirled in her mind, and with them, a deep sense of unease. What did it mean that Jhream looked so much like Joshua? And why did it make her feel like the past was resurfacing in ways she wasn’t prepared for?

But the answer eluded her, hidden beneath layers of complicated emotions that she wasn’t ready to confront.

The morning sun poured through the hotel window as Hamisa sat on the edge of her bed, the phone pressed to her ear. She could hear Hermione’s voice on the other end, sharp and teasing, but with an undercurrent of concern.

“Hamisa, you’re overthinking this,” Hermione’s voice echoed from the speaker, confident in the way only a younger sister could be. “You used a sperm donor, Hamisa. That man isn’t the father. There’s no way Jhream looks like Joshua. Unless—unless, subconsciously, you want him to be.”

Hamisa stared out the window, trying to collect her thoughts. The gentle hum of the hotel’s early morning stillness contrasted with the whirlwind inside her mind. She exhaled sharply, her fingers brushing through her dark hair as she tried to shake off the nagging doubts.

"I’m not crazy, Hermione," she muttered, rolling her eyes, though she knew her sister wouldn’t see it. "I used a sperm donor because he didn’t want more kids, and we broke up, remember?" The words were stiff as if she were trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Hermione replied, a mixture of sympathy and exasperation in her voice. "But, Hamisa... you’ve been through a lot in the past year, and now you're back in the WWE, reconnecting with all those familiar faces. It's normal for emotions to get mixed up."

Hamisa’s gaze dropped to the floor, her mind replaying yesterday’s encounter with Joshua and the way Jhream had reacted to him. The way she reached for him so effortlessly, as if there were a connection they shared, one that Hamisa couldn't explain. She didn’t want to admit it, but Hermione was right. The feelings were tangled, nostalgia, longing, and a bit of regret, all wrapped up in the rush of seeing Joshua again.

"But why does she look like him?" Hamisa asked softly, her voice barely audible as if the question itself was too vulnerable to speak aloud. "It’s like... she’s got his nose, his little expressions. Even the way she smiles, Hermione, it’s like I’m seeing him all over again, and it’s messing with my head."

Hermione was quiet for a moment, the line crackling slightly. “Hamisa,” she finally said, her voice steady. "You’re being too hard on yourself. You’re looking for patterns and connections where there might not even be any. Babies pick up so many things, like facial expressions and mannerisms from those around them. It could just be a coincidence. And honestly, you’re seeing things through the lens of everything that happened with Joshua. It’s bringing up old feelings, and that’s what’s clouding your judgment."

Hamisa leaned back against the headboard, still holding the phone to her ear, but her thoughts were miles away. "Maybe you're right," she muttered, her voice faint. "I just don’t know why it feels like I’m being hit by this all at once. It’s not just the way she looks. It’s everything, the way she reacts around him, the way she clings to him like she recognizes him. It’s confusing."

“Hamisa,” Hermione said gently, her tone softening. “You’ve always had a way of overthinking things. You have a beautiful little girl, and you’re back doing something you love. You can’t let all these doubts get in the way of what’s in front of you.”

Hamisa paused, glancing down at the space beside her on the bed. She had told herself time and again that Joshua wasn’t part of her life anymore, that he wasn’t the father of her child. And yet, in those fleeting moments when Jhream smiled just like him, or when she clung to him as though she had always known him, Hamisa couldn’t help but wonder. It was as if life had a way of throwing the most unexpected reminders of the past when she least expected them.

“I know,” Hamisa sighed, her voice filled with a weariness that was too deep for someone so young. "I just don’t know how to make sense of it all. It feels like... everything is happening so fast, and I can’t keep up with it."

Hermione’s voice softened again, a smile audible in her words. “It’s okay to feel that way. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now, but you’re strong. You always have been.” She paused for a moment before adding, “And when it comes to Joshua, don’t let your heart go wandering where it doesn’t need to. You’re doing this for you, for Jhream. And that’s what matters.”

Hamisa’s lips curved into a faint smile as she leaned back against the pillows, her shoulders relaxing for the first time that morning. Hermione’s voice, though miles away, always had a way of soothing her, of grounding her when she felt like she was slipping away.

“Thanks, Hermione. I needed that,” Hamisa whispered, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to breathe.

“No problem,” Hermione replied. “Now go enjoy the rest of your day. I know you’ve got a big schedule ahead of you.”

Hamisa nodded even though she knew her sister couldn’t see it. “I will,” she said, the words feeling more like a promise to herself than anything else.

As she ended the call, Hamisa set the phone down beside her and stood up, walking to the window where the sunlight poured into the room. She took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the day wash over her. The doubts still lingered, but for now, she would try to silence them. For Jhream. For herself.

And maybe, just maybe, for the part of her that still wondered what could have been with Joshua.

Hamisa walked over to the window, her fingers grazing the cool glass as she gazed out at the early morning bustle of Indianapolis. The city was waking up, the streets filled with cars, and the air was crisp. It was hard to ignore how much had changed since she last found herself in the WWE’s orbit.

She had come back, not just to revisit the world she had once called home, but to forge a new path, one that included her daughter, Jhream. The realization of how much had shifted in her life, how quickly everything had changed, made her head spin. The excitement of returning to the ring had been undeniable, but it also triggered memories and emotions she wasn’t ready to confront.

The connection between Joshua and Jhream lingered in the back of her mind, a whisper she couldn’t quite ignore. Each time she saw her daughter’s smile or the way she scrunched her nose, it felt like a fragment of the past was staring back at her. She had told herself it was just coincidence, but there was something too real about it. And deep down, she couldn’t shake the nagging thought: Could there have been a mistake?

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Hamisa straightened up, wiping away the pensive look on her face and replacing it with her usual, confident demeanor. She opened the door to find Pamela standing in the hallway, a smile on her face and an eager energy radiating from her.

“Morning, girl!” Pamela greeted, practically bouncing with excitement. “You ready for the day? It’s gonna be a crazy one, but we’re back, baby! Back on the road again!”

Hamisa’s lips curved into a smile at Pamela’s enthusiasm, even though she felt a little detached. The bubbly energy that Pamela exuded was like a welcome ray of sunshine. But Hamisa couldn’t shake the unease still fluttering in her chest.

“I’m ready, I guess,” Hamisa said, her voice betraying her uncertainty despite her attempt at a confident tone. She stepped aside, allowing Pamela to enter.

Pamela looked her up and down with a raised eyebrow. “You guess? Honey, I can see it in your eyes. What’s going on? You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Hamisa sighed, her gaze falling to the floor. She hadn’t realized how much her emotions were written all over her face until Pamela’s observant eyes caught it.

“I’m just... trying to figure things out,” Hamisa said quietly, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s nothing really. I just—there are a lot of things I didn’t expect when I came back. It’s... harder than I thought.”

Pamela’s expression softened, her usual teasing demeanor giving way to concern. “What’s harder?” she asked, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “What’s going on with you, really?”

Hamisa took a deep breath and walked over to the window again, staring at the city outside as if the answers might be hiding there. She didn’t know why it felt so difficult to admit her feelings, but she realized then how much she had kept bottled up since the moment she had returned to WWE.

“It’s just... everything,” Hamisa began, her voice low and introspective. “Yesterday, when I saw Joshua holding Jhream, it was like I was seeing something I wasn’t supposed to see. I know it’s not his baby. I used a sperm donor. I know that. But every time I look at Jhream, I keep seeing little things that remind me of him.” Her voice faltered as she added, “It’s driving me crazy, Pamela. I don’t know if I’m just missing him, or if this is... something else.”

Pamela was quiet for a moment, letting Hamisa's words settle. She knew how deep Hamisa’s feelings ran, even if Hamisa herself didn’t fully understand them.

“You know, girl,” Pamela said slowly, her tone more thoughtful now, “sometimes when you’ve got a history with someone, it doesn’t just go away. No matter how much time passes. But you’ve got to remember—you made that choice for a reason, and it’s not just about Joshua. It’s about you. About what you needed, what you wanted for your life.”

Hamisa turned to face Pamela, feeling a knot tighten in her chest. “I know that, but... sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing, you know? Joshua never wanted more kids. He didn’t even want to be a part of my life when I made that decision. And now I’m here, seeing him with her, and it’s like... everything is messy. I thought it would be simple, but it’s not.”

Pamela stood up and walked over to Hamisa, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing about life is simple, baby. But you’ve got this. I know you do. And as for Joshua... he’s not a part of your life in the way he once was, but that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to carry the weight of everything that happened between you two. You’ve got a little girl who loves you, who needs you, and you’ve got a life to live. Let Joshua figure out his place in all of this.”

Hamisa closed her eyes, letting the weight of Pamela’s words sink in. It wasn’t easy to let go of the past, especially when it seemed to follow her like an invisible shadow. But Pamela was right. Hamisa couldn’t keep holding onto old wounds that didn’t belong to her anymore. Her life now revolved around Jhream, and that’s where her focus needed to be.

“Thanks, Pamela,” Hamisa said, her voice quieter now, but with a sense of clarity she hadn’t had moments before. “You’re right. I need to stop second-guessing everything. I’ve got to let go of the past if I’m going to move forward with Jhream.”

Pamela smiled, her usual energy returning. “That’s the spirit! You’re back, and we’re not slowing down for anything.”

Hamisa laughed, feeling a sense of determination rising within her. The doubts weren’t gone, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt like she was ready to face them head-on. With Pamela’s encouragement and her own resolve, she could start the next chapter of her life, one that was all about her and Jhream, and nothing else.

“I’m ready,” Hamisa said, her confidence returning with a vengeance. “Let’s do this.”

As she walked toward the door, the uncertainty that had plagued her earlier began to fade. Whatever happened with Joshua, with her past, it no longer mattered. She had her future to focus on now. And that future had a little girl who needed her.

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bijouxcarys · 4 months ago

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𝑻𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒏𝒅 (𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝑶𝑪) - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

Masterlist

Character Profiles/Face Claims

Playlist

A/N: she's back again. hope you enjoy this one as always, please leave me replies and likes n shit because it helps with the motivation and i love talking to people about it gahhh

CW/TW: light angst, mentions of violence, and Seth Rollins. he needs a warning on his own.

Tags: @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty @pittieprincess22

@electronicwitchsandwich @thefairywithboots

(If you want to be tagged in any future Roman fics, just let me know!)

Eight years.

Eight. Fucking. Years.

Pushing a decade since Roman Reigns had last seen Seth Rollins. And now, after all that time, he was headed straight for a meeting that felt uncomfortably like stepping into a cage with a venomous animal. A serpent, slick and coiled, lying in wait.

The SUV hummed steadily beneath his hands, the engine a low growl that matched the tension curling in his chest. Beside him, Nate sat with a distant, unreadable expression, her fingers tracing slow, absent-minded circles on the fabric of her jeans. Her usual veneer of sharp, calculated confidence had been replaced by something raw and unpolished—like a blade that had been sharpened too many times and now threatened to snap. The incident with Boris and Alexei ganging up on Katya… and the vicious switch in her father’s disposition during their last encounter. It all shook her—more than she let on. But even now, she carried herself with a quiet intensity that made it clear she wasn’t fragile. Whatever storm churned behind her eyes, it hadn’t broken her.

Behind them, the low murmur of voices from the backseat added a strange counterpoint to the thick silence up front. Jimmy and Jey were mid-banter as usual, the rhythm of their exchange as natural as breathing, while Sami—wedged awkwardly between them—offered occasional nervous laughs. Solo, however, was silent, his presence brooding and heavy, as if he could fill the entire vehicle with his sheer displeasure.

Roman’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, catching his enforcer’s watchful eyes. The unspoken tension between them was a steady undercurrent, but Roman chose not to address it. It wasn’t worth it.

Not yet.

“I’m just sayin’, man,” Jimmy piped up, leaning forward with a grin. “Two weeks before Christmas is a hell of a time to be dragging us out like this. You know what I could’ve been doin’ instead?”

“Ain’t no better time for business than now,” Jey replied, nudging his twin. “Half these fools too busy kissin’ under mistletoe to notice what’s really goin’ on.”

Sami chuckled anxiously, his eyes darting over at Nate as if seeking her approval. “I mean… it’s intense, right? Meeting Seth Rollins. The guy is—”

“A snake,” Roman cut in sharply, his voice like a crack of thunder in the confined space. His jaw tightened, and his fingers flexed on the wheel. “Seth’s a snake. Always has been.”

Nate’s lips twitched, a flicker of amusement that didn’t quite form into a smile. She didn’t need to ask for details; Roman had already told her the whole story in his rare moment of unguarded honesty the night of Alexei’s engagement celebration. How Seth’s betrayal had nearly cost him everything—not just regarding business, but his pride.

She could understand that. Hell, she could even empathise. Traitors weren’t just dangerous—they were personal.

“I-I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sami ventured hesitantly, “But… you sure about this, Boss?”

Roman didn’t bother looking at him. His eyes stayed locked on the road, the stretch of asphalt ahead illuminated by the harsh glare of the SUV’s headlights. “We do what we have to,” he said flatly. “If Seth has something we could use, we’re gonna take it. End of story.”

Sami shrank back slightly, his nervous energy radiating like static. Beside Roman, Nate stirred, her voice low enough that only he could hear.

“Before we get there,” she murmured, “A warning.”

Roman arched a brow, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Oh? You think I need one?”

“I think your pride has a nasty habit of making decisions for you,” she replied evenly, cool but not unkind.

The twins exchanged a glance in the backseat, Jey arching an eyebrow at Jimmy as if to say, “She’s really pushing it, huh?” Sami, ever the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood with a small chuckle.

“You really know how to keep him on his toes, Nate,” he offered.

Nate didn’t even glance back, her focus fixed on Roman. “Seth’s not here to settle a score,” she continued. “He’s here because his wife’s convinced him to offer information. And you’d better make sure to keep any ego on a leash before you let it get the better of you.”

Roman’s grip on the wheel was almost death-like. But he didn’t snap at her. Not this time. Instead, he just let her comment hang like a taut wire about to break.

Jimmy let out a low whistle, leaning back in his seat. “Man, I ain’t ever seen anyone talk to you like that before, Uce.”

“Shut up,” Roman muttered, though there was no real venom in his voice.

As the SUV slowed to a stop at their destination—a deserted parking lot on the outskirts of the city—Roman scanned the area with a practised eye. The single streetlamp overhead cast long, spidery shadows across the cracked pavement, and the only other vehicle in sight was a dark sedan parked a safe distance away.

Nate was already unbuckling her seatbelt, her movements quick and efficient. “Stay here,” she said without looking at Roman. “I just need to make sure they’re ready for… Uh, well, you.”

Roman’s gaze narrowed, his lips curving into a faint, wolfish grin. “You actin’ like I can’t handle myself, Volkov.”

“I’m acting like someone who knows a shitshow when she sees one,” Nate shot back, her tone edged with just enough sarcasm to make him pause. “Give me five minutes.”

He stared at her for a long moment, the weight of his scrutiny pressing down on her like a physical force. But to her credit, she didn’t flinch.

“Fine,” he said at last, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. “But don’t take too long.”

As Nate stepped out of the SUV, the twins exchanged a look of disbelief.

“You see that?” Jey whispered, elbowing Jimmy. “She’s got him on a leash, man.”

Jimmy grinned, shaking his head. “Ain’t no leash. She’s jus–”

“Enough,” Roman growled, cutting off their laughter with a single word.

But even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the strange sense of unease coiling in his chest. He watched Nate approached the sedan, her silhouette sharp and unyielding against the harsh glow of the streetlamp.

“Man, she’s somethin’ else,” Jey muttered under his breath.

“Yeah,” Jimmy agreed quietly. “But, uh, you think she’s… worth it?”

Roman didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Nate, his thoughts a tangled web of doubt, frustration, and something dangerously close to admiration.

In the rear end of the car, Solo shifted, his eyes narrowing as he also watched Nate, but with an intensity that bordered on hostility.

“She’s takin’ liberties,” he hummed.

“Yeah?” Roman said, eyeing Solo in the rearview mirror. “You got a problem with that?”

Jaw tightening, Solo refused to reply. The silence that followed was heavy and oppressive—Roman practically felt the heavy tension between them, thick enough to choke on.

Nate adjusted her jacket against the chill of the evening as she stepped out and away from the SUV. She needed this meeting to go well. She knew that there’d have to be some… discussion prior to bringing Roman into the equation, but she wasn’t prepared for just how much the idea of explaining Roman’s involvement to Seth would feel like walking into a minefield.

Seth Rollins wasn’t exactly known for his restraint, and based on what Roman had told her about their history… it wasn’t going to be a friendly reunion.

As she approached them, Becky noticed her and gave a sly smile. She had one arm casually slung around Seth’s shoulders, leaning into him like they were in their own world. Seth, meanwhile, glanced at Nate with open curiosity and mild suspicion.

“You’re finally here,” Becky said. “Thought maybe you’d changed your mind about meeting the second-best architect in New York.”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Second-best? You finally admitting defeat?”

Becky laughed. “Not a chance.”

Nate’s attention turned to Seth, who studied her carefully. He wasn’t what she expected—not entirely, anyway. His sharp eyes gave him an air of unpredictability, and his grin held a touch of mischief. But there was something grounded about it, too, like he was the only one keeping Becky tethered to reality. And… possibly vice versa.

“And you must be Seth Rollins,” Nate offered a hand. “Thanks for coming. Becky told me… a bit about you.”

Seth clasped her hand, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Yeah, well, Becks tends to leave out the boring parts. So what’s the deal? She said you needed help, but she wasn’t exactly handing out details.”

Nate hesitated. She wasn’t one for oversharing, but there was no avoiding this part. “We’ll get to that,” she said, glancing at Becky for support. “But first… I just need to let you know… something.” She cringed a little at her inability to correctly construct what was sure to be a groundbreaking revelation for both of them. “The other… person I’m working with. It’s… Well, it’s someone you’ve… known before?” Nate clasped her hands together, furrowing her brows at Seth.

Becky immediately straightened, sensing the apprehension in Nate’s voice. “Oh, God, Nate, who?”

Nate looked between them, weighing her words carefully. “Uh… Roman Reigns.”

The reaction was instant. Seth stiffened, his jaw tightening as he pulled his hands up to his head like he’d been burned. “Nope,” he said flatly, stepping back. “I’m out.”

Becky blinked, caught off-guard. “Seth—”

“No way,” he cut her off, pacing a short distance away. “I’m not working with that guy. Are you serious, Becky? You couldn’t warn me about this?”

“I didn’t know either!”

Nate held up a hand, trying to calm him. “Look, I know—”

“No, you don’t know,” Seth interrupted, pointing at her. “That guy? He’s a control freak. Thinks he’s better than everyone else. Hell, he probably still thinks he owns the damn universe.”

“Hang on, that’s not fair,” Nate said curtly, surprising even herself with the edge in her voice. Seth’s eyes snapped to her, but she didn’t hesitate. “Not based on what I’ve been told, anyway.”

“Ohhh of course, he’s told you everything, right?”

“Seth–”

“He’s told you allll about the times he got all the credit, he got all the adulation from everyone we ever came across. And all about the time I was told, I was promised, an out if I took him out!”

“No, he hasn’t told me about the charisma he clearly possesses more than you do, but he definitely told me all about you pulling a gun out on him out of nowhere after years of loyalty,” Nate gritted her teeth, swallowing her words as soon as she said them.

Seth’s brows angled downward as he glared at Nate. He was already ready to go back into his hole and crack open a beer. But his wife had dragged him here, meaning it had to have been important. But still…

“I’m not getting dragged into whatever ego trip he’s on this time.”

Nate took a steadying breath, reining in her impulse to defend Roman further. She wasn’t here to argue; she was here to get Seth on board. Focus.

“Look,” she said, lowering her voice, “I’m not asking you to be his best friend. I’m asking you to help me. My family could be in danger—my little sister could be in danger. People are already dead because of this, and if we don’t get to the bottom of it, there’ll be more.”

Even though Seth’s expression hardened, he didn’t walk away. So Nate pressed on, sensing an opening.

“I get it,” she said softly. “You don’t like him. I’m not asking you to. But this isn’t about Roman—it’s about stopping this mass assassination. A military-grade shipment of weapons stolen in plain sight. Damian Priest. Gone. Bad Bunny and his men. Gone. Some of the most powerful people I’ve personally ever met. Whoever is behind it, has the balls to take out an entire underground, and I’ll be damned if my family is next. My sister is twenty-years-old. Barely experienced the world. I’ve protected her up until now, but who knows how much further that can go?” She licked her lips, taking a tentative step toward Seth.

“Surely you must know what that feels like… the need to protect your family.”

She let the words hang there for a minute, knowing the implication would hit him. Seth’s gaze moved to Becky, who was watching him carefully. The subtle shift in his expression told Nate she’d struck a nerve.

“You don’t play fair, do you?” Seth muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re just like her.”

Nate glanced at Becky, who smirked at her husband. “Told you she was a smart one,” she said. “And for the record, she’s not wrong. This is bigger than any grudge any of us have.”

Seth sighed, looking between the two women. “Damn it,” he grumbled. Finally, he turned to Nate. “Fine. I’ll help. But don’t expect me to be nice about it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Nate said, a small smile on her face as she did.

Seth squinted his eyes at her, but there was no real malice behind it. “You better know what you’re doing,” he said.

“I always do,” she replied. Then, after a pause, she added, “Thank you. Really.”

Seth waved her off, already walking back toward Becky. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me regret this.”

“Noted,” Nate agreed with a nod before swiftly turning and heading back to the SUV to retrieve Roman. A small wash of relief took her; convincing Seth to work with Roman, even if brief and loose, would never be an easy feat. But she’d done it.

She pulled open the car door and slid halfway inside, immediately sensing the anticipation dwelling on the inside, with Roman sitting stone-faced and the rest of his crew watching her expectantly.

“Well?” Jey asked first, leaning forward slightly.

“It’s… complicated,” Nate admitted, looking directly at Roman. “It’s probably best if you come alone. Seth’s already skittish, and adding more of an entourage won’t help.”

Jimmy and Jey exchanged glances but didn’t argue. Sami nodded diplomatically. “Yeah, probably doesn’t help if we roll in looking like we’re about to start a turf war.”

Solo, on the other hand, scowled. His arms were crossed, his usual stoic demeanour giving way to something closer to frustration. “You want him to go alone?”

“It’s not ideal,” she carefully accepted. “But it’s the best chance we have of keeping things somewhat civil. Neutral.”

The enforcer’s glare shifted to Roman, silently challenging him. Roman exhaled through his nose, the barest flash of irritation crossing his face. “I’ll be fine,” he affirmed, locking eyes with Solo. “You don’t need to babysit me.”

“Ain’t about babysittin’,” Solo stiffly countered. “It’s about makin’ sure you safe, Chief. That’s my job.”

Roman’s gaze softened just enough to be noticeable. “And you do your job better than anyone… But this ain’t a fight, Solo. It’s a conversation. Let me handle it.”

Solo hesitated but eventually nodded, though his posture remained rigid. On guard. Nate noted the exchange but didn’t comment, instead nodding toward the door. “Come on, bol’shoy paren’,” she said to Roman. “Let’s get this shit done.”

They both stepped out into the cool night air, the silence between them stretching as they walked. Nate glanced at Roman, noticing how his jaw was already clenching as he caught the distant sight of his former brother, and let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t be a bitch about this, alright?” she breathed, her tone light but pointed.

Roman shot her a sidelong look, one dark eyebrow arching. “You think I’m incompetent, Princess?”

Nate smirked, a spark of mischief lighting her eyes. She tilted her head slightly, her British accent dropping with playful mockery. “Oh, I definitely don’t think you’re incompetent, darling.”

Roman’s lips twitched, his expression briefly cracking with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. He didn’t miss the way she emphasised the word, the memory of their most recent encounter whispering between them like a live wire. “Watch it,” he teased, the heat in his tone anything but malicious.

They reached the middle of the parking lot, where Seth and Becky were waiting by their car. As soon as Roman and Seth locked eyes, the tension skyrocketed. It was like watching two apex predators sizing each other up, neither willing to back down. Roman stood tall, his presence commanding as always, while Seth leaned casually against the car, his smirk a deliberate provocation.

Nate exchanged a quick glance with Becky, who looked equally bewildered by the sudden standoff. “What the fuck…” Becky mumbled under her breath, looking between the two men.

“Don’t ask me,” Nate replied quietly, crossing her arms. “I think this is just… testosterone.”

The silence stretched out uncomfortably until Nate finally decided to intervene. “Right,” she said, clearing her throat. “What have you got for us, Seth?”

Without breaking eye contact with Roman, Seth pushed off the car and gestured toward the trunk. “Back here.”

Roman frowned. “Why?”

Seth glanced at him with an unreadable facade.

“Because I’m going to kill you, put you in my trunk, and piss on your corpse,” he said with a deadpan delivery.

Becky audibly groaned, her head falling into her hand. “Jesus, Seth…”

It was hard to tell if the emotion that caught Roman was amusement or annoyance.

“Charming,” he said dryly.

“Hey,” Seth shrugged, “Just getting it out of my system.”

“Done yet?” the Samoan asked flatly.

“Not even close,” Seth shot back, opening the trunk.

Becky sighed, leaning toward Nate. “This is going great, don’t you think?”

“Oh, swimmingly,” Nate snorted, thick with sarcasm. Roman and Seth could continue their silent battle of wills if they wanted, but for now, she was more concerned about keeping the night from devolving into chaos.

Seth motioned toward the open trunk, revealing a stack of folders and a laptop that looked like it had seen its fair share of back-alley dealings. He picked up the top folder, flipping it open too casually, considering the weight of the information inside.

“Here’s what I’ve got,” he began, his tone switching to professional. “I’ve been keeping tabs on movements that feel… off. Have been for years, call it a… hobby of sorts. Funds shifting around, old accounts suddenly waking up—things that don’t scream ‘legit.’” He glanced at Roman, smirking a little. “So, when exactly did this shipment of yours go missing?”

“September,” Roman replied.

“Hmm,” Seth murmured, pulling out a piece of paper with a handwritten timeline. “Figures.” He looked at Becky briefly before continuing. “You said Damian Priest was taken out during the same event, right? What’d it look like? Close quarters? Long range?”

Roman exchanged a look with Nate, acutely aware of her close connection with some of The Judgement Day members. “Sniper. Precise. A single shot between the eyes.”

Seth’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Interesting. That’s not just skill, that’s money—serious money. You want that kinda precision, you’re not hiring your cousin’s buddy from down the block. You’re bringing in someone with credentials.”

Roman crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. “Professional. Just like we thought.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying…” Seth gave him a look that screamed obviously, before pulling out another folder, opening it to reveal a printout of a bank statement. “Now, here’s where it gets fun. I’ve been tracking some weird transfers—big ones. They’ve been popping up since late August. All routing through an account I haven’t seen active since 2015.”

Nate leaned forward slightly, looking down at the statement. “And the account belongs to…?”

Seth tapped the paper with a finger. “Back in the day, it was listed under the name ‘Shattered Dreams Armory.’ A nice little alias for weapons trading. But now?” He flipped to another page, showing a different name associated with a recent transfer. “It’s going under ‘Viper Machinery.’”

Roman’s brow furrowed, and he exchanged a quick glance with Nate, who was visibly processing the information. “Viper Machinery,” Roman repeated under his breath before shaking his head slowly. “I’m not sure I’ve heard of it.”

“Not surprising,” Seth said. “Whoever’s running it is smart. They’re keeping their tracks covered. But these transfers?” He pointed down at the statement. “They’re big. Someone’s moving a lot of money, and they’re using old channels to do it. Feels like someone’s waking up old ghosts to pull this off.”

“You got specifics? Dates? Amounts?”

Seth rolled his eyes at Roman, needling his tone somewhat. “Do I look like I half-ass this kinda thing? Of course I’ve got specifics.” He flipped the page again, showing the detailed breakdown of the transfers. “August, a hundred grand. September, another two-fifty. October, half a mil. All to this account.”

Roman reached for the folder, but Seth didn’t hand it over immediately, instead holding it just out of reach. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he said sarcastically.

Roman’s jaw tightened, and Nate groaned loudly. “Chert voz’mi, bozhe moy,” she muttered, stepping between them. “Can we not do this right now? Just give him the bloody folder, Rollins.”

Seth relented, but not without a small glare from Becky, who was clearly unimpressed with his antics. Roman opened the folder, scanning the contents quickly. His face scrunched up as he processed the information. Shattered Dreams Amory… So familiar, yet so far out of his grasp of recollection.

“You’re welcome,” Seth repeated smugly, leaning against the car, like he couldn’t help himself.

“For what?” Roman looked up at him. “Doin’ the bare minimum?”

Seth grinned. “For not charging you, big guy. Information like this doesn’t come cheap. You should be thanking me.”

“Thank you,” Roman said dryly, making it more than obvious that he didn’t mean a bit of it.

Nate pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes before holding a hand out between the two men. “Are you two done measuring dicks, or do I need to referee?”

Seth chuckled, as though he’d just heard the funniest thing in the world, which prompted Becky to roll her eyes and nudge her husband. “For the love of God,” she said. “You’re not twelve.”

“I’m just saying,” he replied innocently, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Roman ignored the banter, flipping through the folder in his hands, before glancing back up at Seth. “Anythin’ else?”

Seth actually hesitated for a fraction of a second, blinking at Roman like he wanted to say something more but thought better of it. Instead, he confidently shook his head. “On them? Not yet. But if you’re dealing with someone who’s willing to reanimate a name like Shattered Dreams, you’re in deep. And not the fun kind of deep.”

“Great,” Nate mumbled, her patience wearing thin. “Just what we needed to hear.”

Roman closed the folder with a snap. “Let’s keep this movin’.”

Becky leaned against the edge of the sedan, producing a brown envelope from inside the trunk. “Alright,” she began, glancing between Roman and Nate, “My turn. After we agreed to meet, I took it upon myself to make a few calls. Got in touch with a couple of lads who owe me a few favours.”

Nate’s head snapped towards her, sharpening her features. “You what? Becky, are you serious? Why the fuck would you bring more people into this?”

The redhead raised an eyebrow, completely unbothered by the outburst. “Relax, Sherlock. A shootout in a warehouse isn’t exactly the kind of thing people overlook. You think nobody was gonna notice? Someone was bound to find out something happened there eventually.”

“And who, exactly, did you talk to?”

“Finn Bálor,” Becky said calmly, “And JD McDonagh… You know them.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” Nate hissed. “I’ve already had Rhea down my throat, Beck, I didn’t exactly want the rest of Judgement Day sniffing around. I’m pretty sure they already think it was my dad who did all thi–”

“Was it?” Seth flat-out asked. Nate glared over at him, taking a heavy breath through her nose.

“Listen, Rollins, I already don’t like y–”

“Would you relax?” Becky cut her off, holding up her hands. “I was smooth about it, okay? Finn and JD know how to keep things quiet, and you know damn well Finn doesn’t give a shite about anyone but himself.” She folded her arms, staring Nate down. “Besides, I’ve known Finn for years, you think I’d go around shouting your business? Give them some credit.”

Unbeknownst to Seth and Becky, Roman had slid his hand down to Nate’s lower back, giving her a little squeeze firm enough to get her attention. “Chill, Volkov, you’re good,” he said quietly. “Let her finish.”

Nate exhaled sharply, eyes flicking to Roman briefly before crossing her arms over her chest. “What did Dumb and Dumber find then?” she grumbled.

Becky reached into the envelope in her hands and pulled out a clear ziplock bag, holding it up for everyone to see. Inside were several shell casings. “Finn and JD went back to the warehouse to scout for anything left behind. Turns out, there were shells from both your weaponry,” she said, nodding toward Roman, “And the Volkovs.”

“Wow, look at Captain Obvious…” Nate mumbled, huffing a little.

Ignoring the jab, Becky proceeded to pick out a single shell from the bottom of the bag, holding it up between her fingers. “Except this one.”

Squinting his eyes, Roman leaned in to take a good look at it. “And that is?”

Becky handed the shell to Seth, who held it up like he was examining a rare artefact. “This,” Seth began, “Is a casing from a Barrett MRAD sniper rifle. High-calibre, precision-focused, and expensive as hell. Not the kind of thing you pick up at your average black-market arms dealer.”

Nate tilted her head, face contorting slightly. “And where does that get us?”

Seth’s smirk was complacent. “It gets us here.” He opened up yet another folder and laid out a piece of paper on the floor of his trunk with what looked like a transaction log. “This particular rifle? It was registered in 2013 to Shattered Dreams Armory. And we already know that whoever’s behind Shattered Dreams has rebranded into this Viper Machinery nonsense.”

“So, whoever pulled the trigger on Priest…” Roman started, “Used a weapon they got directly from Shattered Dreams.”

“Exactly,” Becky confirmed. “Whoever’s pulling the strings here has been at it for years. They didn’t just steal your shipment and take out Priest on a whim. This is methodical. They’ve got resources and connections that go way back.”

Nate’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Perfect,” she huffed. “So we’re dealing with a ghost who knows how to cover tracks.”

“You’re not wrong,” Seth said. “But now you know what to look into. Viper Machinery is your link. Find out who’s using it, and you’ll find out who’s behind all of this.”

Nate’s shoulders stiffened, and her voice rose slightly. “And how exactly do you expect us to do that? It’s not like they’re advertising their services on Craigslist.”

“Nate,” Roman stepped in. She looked up at him, her breathing quick and shallow, irritation boiling over. His eyes locked with hers, steadily. Grounding her. “We’re gon’ figure it out,” he reassured. “You’re no good to anyone if you’re workin’ yourself up too much to think.”

Her lips parted as though she wanted to argue. And she did. God, she could argue with a brick wall if it was laid wrong. But the quiet authority in Roman’s tone—and the way he wasn’t looking at her like an opponent but a straight up ally—made her pause. She breathed out slowly, nodding at him. “Okay,” she said softly.

Becky’s brows lifted as she watched the exchange with great interest. “Huh,” she chuckled. “Look at that… He’s not a total arse.”

Seth scoffed a little but didn’t comment, instead gesturing to the folder still in Roman’s hands. “That’s all I can give you for now. But if you want my advice—”

“Did we ask for it?” Roman interrupted.

Seth grinned. “Yeah, yeah, acknowledge me, I get it. Just don’t screw this up, Big Dog. Because if you do, it’s not just your ass on the line. It’s hers too.” He nodded toward Nate.

If this were under any other circumstances, Roman may have just floored the guy. But, adhering to Nate’s requests, he just cleared his throat and tucked the folder under his arms, turning to her. “Let’s go.”

As Roman began making his way back to the car, Nate took a quick moment to give Becky an appreciative glance, mouthing a silent thank you in the process before catching up to Roman with a small jog. Walking back to the SUV, she caught the tiniest flicker of a smirk on the Samoan’s face.

“What?” she asked defensively.

“Nothin’,” he replied, the smirk only deepening. “Just nice to see I’m the one who can shut you up.”

“Don’t push your luck, Reigns, we’re barely back to the car yet.”

Nearing the SUV, Roman’s stride began to slow, casting a wary side glance at Nate. He stopped just shy of the vehicle, and his hand lightly caught her elbow, stopping her in her tracks too.

“You good?” he asked evenly, though sharp eyes scanned her face like he was reading between the lines of a book in a language he couldn’t decipher.

“Fine,” Nate answered quickly, perhaps too quickly. Her guard was up, her tone clipped in a way that Roman didn’t miss. Couldn’t miss. In fact, he hadn’t missed it all night.

“Uh-huh.”

Roman didn’t buy it for a second. The slight tilt of his head signalled he wasn’t going to let her brush him off this time, folding his arms across his broad chest, the folder securely in one hand. “You headin’ back to Tribeca tonight?”

She hesitated, which already told him more than her eventual answer. “Yeah. But I can make my own way if it’s inconvenient, if you’ve got something else going on.”

That stumped him. “What?”

Nate squinted her eyes, confused as to why he was looking at her like she’d just spoken a foreign language. Maybe she’d just spoken in pure Russian and didn’t realise.

“I mean… You’ve got things going on, right?” she shifted uncomfortably, dropping her voice, “I don’t need to–”

“Hold up.” Roman’s tone was calm, but weighty enough for her to happily shut the fuck up. “You don’t need to what? You worried ‘bout me all of a sudden? ‘Cause that don’t sound right, Princess.”

She bristled, a small scoff escaping her. “I’m not worried, I’m just—”

“You’re just…?” He leaned slightly closer, his voice dipping lower. “Go on. Finish that.”

“I’m being practical,” she huffed with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, okay…” He was clearly unconvinced, shaking his head and muttering under his breath, “Practical, my ass.”

Nate wanted to argue, even started to part her lips to refute his dismissal, but he cut her off before she could. “We’ll drop everyone off back at my place first, then I’ll take you to Tribeca.”

“Why not just stop at Tribeca on the way?” she frowned. “Makes more sense.”

Roman’s eyes locked onto hers in that stern, cold way they did when he wasn’t willing to negotiate, to argue. “Because I wanna talk to you.”

Brows knitting together, a flicker of confusion crossed her. “About what?”

“Just get in the car, Volkov, or I’ma leave you here.”

Nate stared at him for a moment, debating whether or not to push back, but ultimately sighed heavily and started her way round to the passenger’s side of the car. “So bloody infuriating…” she mumbled.

“Heard that,” he called from the other side of the SUV, the signature smirk back on his face as he climbed into the driver’s seat and instantly turned toward the back seat to pass Jimmy the folder. “Take this. Focus on two names: Shattered Dreams Armory and Viper Machinery. I’ll break the rest down later, but for now, I need you on it. Both of you,” he added, looking between Jimmy and Jey. “We’ll get Tamina on it too.”

“Got it, Uce. We’ll take care of it,” Jimmy agreed, pursing his lips as he perused the documents with Jey attempting to lean over Sami to get a look at it himself, as though he couldn’t just ask for the folder when his brother was done with it.

The drive to Roman’s house was steeped in a quiet friction. Sami and Jimmy chatted quietly in the back, with Jey and Solo inputting here and there, but it wasn’t difficult to feel Solo’s wandering observation, even from all the way in the rear. But the Tribal Chief knew how to handle his enforcer, so he just ignored it for now, focusing on the road.

When they pulled into the long driveway leading to the house, Roman brought the car to a slow stop and cut off the engine. The Usos, Sami, and Solo climbed out, though the latter lingered, gripping the door frame as he glanced at Roman. His eyes flicked over at Nate, seated quietly, her form more withdrawn than usual.

“You’re not comin’ in?” Solo asked.

Roman shook his head firmly. “I’m takin’ Nate back to her place.”

Solo furrowed his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes inquisitively. “Why can’t she–”

“Solo,” Roman interrupted carefully. “Make sure everyone’s good inside. Hold it down ‘til I get back. Won’t be long.”

For a moment, Solo didn’t move, and focused back on the outside in the passenger seat. Unlike earlier, when she might have met his stare with defiance, she simply looked away blankly, as though her attention were somewhere completely unrelated and distant. The shift that even he noticed, left Solo frowning, but his cousin’s authoritative presence was enough to prevent further questioning.

“Yeah. Alright,” he grunted with a reluctant nod, before stepping back and shutting the door.

Roman shifted back into gear and eased the SUV back down the driveway, soaking up the silence that took over the space. It was thick. Not heavy, per se. But it was more… elusive—uncertain, fatigued.

Nate leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, her eyes fixed on the blur of city lights as they made their way toward Tribeca. She wasn’t one to sink into a foreigners space comfortably, but it was hard not to with the exhaustion that began to seep into every inch of her being. The need for solitude pressed on her greater than the need for compliance.

Surprisingly, the large Samoan beside her didn’t push her to talk, his hands steady on the wheel. He’d give her this time, at least…

But, like always, tranquillity never found peace in the lap of a Volkov; a faint, unmistakable growl broke through the monotony—the sound of a stomach protesting its neglect.

Roman glanced sideways, one brow lifting in amusement. “That your stomach?”

Nate sighed, a reluctant smile forming despite herself. “Maybe,” she admitted gently.

The corner of Roman’s mouth curved upward, and he let out a low chuckle. “Damn, you got a beast in there or somethin’?”

The moment felt fleetingly normal—just two people sharing a bit of levity in the aftermath of intense conversation. Nate rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left her lips.

“I think it’s trying to mutiny,” she dryly jested, that classic British edge that only some could detect as humour.

“You hungry? We can stop somewhere. Grab somethin’ real quick.”

The question caught her by surprise, and she hesitated before shaking her head. “No, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he asked, looking at her for a beat longer than necessary before he returned his focus to the road. “Your body’s tellin’ you somethin’, Volkov, probably a good idea to listen.”

The ease of the previous exchange simmered down slightly, the smile on Nate’s face now just a vacant chime of a grimace as she straightened in her seat. “It’s past six.”

Roman frowned. “What, that like a rule or somethin’?”

“Something like that.” She didn’t elaborate, just continued to watch as the road came toward them and disappeared under the car.

The instinct to understand Nate’s habits and the reasons behind them seemed to gnaw at Roman’s psyche; he wanted to press further. Wanted to figure her out. Entirely. But the way she adjusted her posture—the way her shoulders tensed—put a stop to his curiosities. Maybe it was cultural, he reasoned, some family thing he had no right prying into.

“Alright,” he simply said, letting it go.

The SUV fell back into silence, but this time it was softer, less oppressive. Definitely less oppressive than one would expect after such a strange exchange. But Nate’s mind drifted, like it always did in times of energy depletion and thinning patience, but she couldn’t deny the foreign sense of ease she felt sitting there beside Roman. Beneath the complete instability of home, he provided a quiet kind of… security.

A sensation of safety that eluded her elsewhere.

Roman parked the SUV a few buildings down from Nate’s apartment, just far enough to keep the vehicle out of the view of security cameras at the front of her complex. They were out of the way enough that they wouldn’t be interrupted, save from the occasional hum of passing traffic in the otherwise still night.

Neither of them moved for what seemed like the longest minute of Nate’s life. His hands were still on the wheel, knuckles rolling a little as he adjusted his grip. His jaw; tense as he prepared for a conversation he wasn’t entirely sure how to start.

Nate shifted slightly in her seat, fingers brushing against the door handle. The exhaustion had deepened during the quiet drive, and all she wanted was the sanctuary of her own space—a moment to shut the world out, Roman included. Too much on her mind. Too many emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

A few glasses of whiskey, blasting some music, and a hot bath seemed like, at that moment, the best thing in the world.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said softly. It wasn’t too much like her to express gratitude so easily, but it felt different tonight. Tonight, she just felt like a massive burden. A bout of deadweight nobody truly wanted to drag around with them. Like she was in the way, yet… never there when needed.

She made a quick move to open the door, making it clear she wasn’t looking for further conversation. “I’ll head in from he–”

Roman’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist firmly, but not so much that it would hurt her. She froze, breath catching in her throat. There was no malice in the touch, but his authority—his… insistence was what stopped her as effectively as a wall would.

“Not so fast.”

Turning her head slowly, her eyes met his, noting the sharp angles of his face highlighted by the streetlight beside where he’d parked up. The furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. He didn’t speak at first, his hand sliding up from her wrist to her forearm, a clear goal in mind. Her body practically stiffened as it stopped just short of her shoulder before moving upward again.

When his thumb brushed over her cheekbone—light, reverent—she flinched. It was slight, but Roman noticed it.

His fingers lingered, barely cupping her face now, and his thumb traced the faint but unmistakable cut along her skin.

For a man like Roman, who could be cruel and brutal when necessary, the tenderness in his touch was jarring.

“What happened?” he asked quietly. It was calm, but the undertones were anything but.

Nate tried to turn her head, tried to move out of his hold, but his hand didn’t budge. “It’s nothing,” mumbled. “Really. Just… I slipped, that’s all.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She sighed, shoulders slumping a fraction in the process. “It’s not a big deal. Things happen, Roman, let’s ju–”

“I said, don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, his tone sharper this time. His thumb brushed over the cut again, eyes darkening as he did. “You expect me to believe you ‘slipped’ and landed on your face? C’mon, Volkov, you’re better at lyin’ than that.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her silence speaking louder than anything she could have said.

Roman’s jaw tightened, his patience fraying. “Was it… what’s his name, Alexei?” he asked. Voice dropping an octave.

Nate shook her head immediately.

“Boris?” he asked next, the faintest trace of confusion colouring his words, like the concept made little sense.

Again, she shook her head.

Roman paused, his hand still on her cheek, thumb still tracing small circles near the edge of the cut. His eyes searched hers, and for the first time during this particular conversation, he hesitated.

“...Dimitri?”

It felt heavy on his tongue, almost too vile to say aloud.

She didn’t nod. She didn’t shake her head. Didn’t move at all, in fact. And the silence that followed was deafening.

Roman’s hand dropped from her face as if her skin had burned him. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes locked on her. The shift in his expression was progressive. The anger rising within him was like a tidal wave, slow and inevitable.

“Your father?” he repeated through a low tremble that barely contained his impending fury.

Nate didn’t respond, just had her hands clasped together tightly in her lap. She couldn’t even look at him in her time of weakness. To her, it was… pathetic.

“What kind of man,” he began, “Puts his hands on his own daughter? Huh? What kind of… pathetic, weak bastard thinks that’s okay?”

She stayed silent, her head tilted downward, but she took in every syllable of what he was saying.

“You’re his daughter,” Roman continued, the words tumbling out now, fuelled by a rage that only seemed to grow. “His blood. You don’t hit your own, Nate. You don’t raise a hand to any woman, let alone your own damn kid. What the fuck’s wrong with him? What kinda sick—”

His voice broke off, and he slammed a hand against the dashboard, the sharp sound echoing in the confines of the car. Whilst Nate didn’t flinch, her chest began to rise and fall a little faster now, a shallowness forming in her breath.

Roman shook his head, running a hand over his face. “I’d never–” He stopped, his throat tightening and his teeth gritting painfully. “I can’t even think about doin’ somethin’ like that to Ava. I’d cut off my own fuckin’ hands first. That’s your daughter, you protect her. You don’t…” He trailed off, hands clenched into fists.

He just… couldn’t shake the anger simmering beneath his skin. The thought of a father hitting his daughter—it wasn’t just foreign to him; it was repulsive. It dug at something primal, something deeply ingrained in his core, and the more he thought about it, the harder it became to let go. But it wasn’t just the abstract idea of it anymore. It was Nate.

And that’s what finally made him pause.

She was sitting next to him, as still as a shadow, staring out of the window like she could somehow dissolve into the night if she tried hard enough. The cool, unflappable Natalka Volkov, who never so much as blinked when the stakes were high, had tears streaking silently down her cheeks.

Roman blinked, as though his mind needed to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. She wasn’t sobbing, wasn’t shaking, wasn’t even making a sound. It was quieter than anything he’d ever witnessed, but it hit him harder than if she’d broken down entirely. She wasn’t just crying. She was breaking—right there in his passenger seat.

For a moment, he just watched her. The sheen of tears clinging to her lashes, the way her chest rose and fell like she was trying to breathe through a knot in her throat. It dawned on him, slow and heavy, that he’d never seen her like this. Ever. Nate didn’t cry. She snapped, she fought, she drank, she laughed. But she didn’t cry.

Not until now.

And it wasn’t just the tears. It was what they meant. It wasn’t lost on him that her guard was always so airtight, so impenetrable, and the fact that she’d let it slip in front of him of all people—that told him everything he needed to know. Whatever was happening with her, whatever had driven her to this edge, it was… bad.

Roman’s nostrils flared in his disgust, his anger, as it rose back up in his chest again. But it was different now. Before, he’d been mad at the idea. The principle. Now, he was mad for her. For Nate.

How bad was it over there?

For years, he’d painted the Volkovs—and every Russian tied to them—with the same brush. Ruthless, cold-blooded criminals. They weren’t people to him; they were obstacles, enemies. And when Nate first came into his life, that’s exactly how he’d seen her. A means to an end. A pawn in the game.

But now?

Roman exhaled sharply, leaning back in his seat and dragging a hand over his jaw. Damn it. He meant it that time he told her she wasn’t her family. She wasn’t like Dimitri. And that was part of the problem. She’d spent so much of her life fighting to impress her father, maybe even to be a better, more powerful version of him, and now Roman hated the fact that he was starting to care.

Care.

Forbidden territory, that’s what she was. The daughter of his enemy. A woman he wasn’t supposed to feel anything for. And yet here she was, unravelling before him. He hated the way it twisted his insides. Hated the way it made him want to protect her, to keep her from whatever hell she was facing at home.

This wasn’t who he was supposed to be. He didn’t care about the women he fucked. Hell, he didn’t even think about them after the fact. Yet since that night at the safehouse, he hadn’t been with anyone else. Not once.

The realisation hit him like a punch to the gut, and it only made him angrier. Just another thing to add to the mountain of bullshit piling up around him.

Letting out a sharp breath, he looked over at Nate again. Her face was angled toward the window, but her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. He could see the faint tremor in her fingers.

“Nate,” he said finally, yet a little rougher than he intended.

She didn’t turn.

“Nate, look at me.”

So she did, albeit slowly with her eyes still shining with unshed tears.

“How did it happen?” he asked.

She held off on an answer. Half-wishing that this conversation never even started in the first place. Then, as if the dam had cracked, she breathed out and began to speak.

“They told Katya,” she said quietly, distantly, “That she’s going to marry Alexei in February.”

Roman tilted his head. “Alexei,” he repeated. “The guy your old man’s pushin’ into business?”

She nodded, her gaze drifting again, as though she were replaying the memory in her mind. “She’s so sweet, Roman,” she murmured, almost to herself. “She’s not like us. Not like me. She’s… pure.” Her breath caught, but she kept going. “I’ve tried so… so hard to keep her away from all of this. But now they’re dragging her into it, and she doesn’t even know what she’s being dragged into.”

He noted how her voice softened when she talked about her sister, how her hands tightened in her lap as if trying to hold herself together.

“You told them no,” he half-asked.

Nate nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Of course, I told them no,” she said, her voice finally gaining some edge. “But no one tells my dad no. Not without…” She gestured vaguely toward her cheek, her meaning clear.

Roman’s eyes narrowed as the pieces clicked into place. “You stood up to him.” A hint of… pride, perhaps—creeping into his tone. She shrugged, the facade slipping back into place, though not quite as solid as before.

“Someone had to,” she said matter-of-factly.

He let out a low huff, almost a laugh, humourless and dry. “You’re outta your damn mind,” he shook his head. “You know that?”

She smirked faintly, the first real emotion that touched the realm of positive, he’d seen from her since they parked. “Yeah. I’ve been told.”

“You’re not like him, y’know,” Roman suddenly interjected, the caught-off-guard expression on Nate’s face more endearing to him than it should’ve been. “You’re not like your old man,” he repeated. “I know I told you that before, but I meant that shit.”

Even though she didn’t respond immediately, it was noticeable how the tension in her shoulders, and all the way down her back, softened. Like… she was relieved. And he didn’t elaborate, didn’t push. He didn’t need to. She’d been getting better at seeing through him, and she saw through him now. Whatever else he felt—anger, frustration, pride—he buried it under the same stubborn mask he always wore.

And she let him, because she got it.

And the quiet that stretched like the one after a storm that promised another was on the horizon, wasn’t awkward. Just heavy. Roman rested his hand on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the street ahead, while Nate sat motionless beside him. At first, he thought she was about to leave, but something stopped her.

Her eyes narrowed a bit, a slight furrow in her brow as her teeth caught the edge of her bottom lip. She was thinking, deeply, about something; he saw it in the harshness of her swallow, in the small, involuntary twitch of her fingers against her lap.

Shifting in her seat, she leaned back before leaning forward again, clearly unsure of how to approach whatever was on her mind.

“Nate,” Roman said, cutting through her thoughts. “What is it?”

She faltered, tightening the muscles in her jaw. Then, with a minute, shaky breath, she spoke.

“Could you…” She trailed off, biting at her lip again before starting over. “I was just wondering if—actually, no. Forget it, it–”

“Nate,” he interrupted firmly enough to stop her spiral of second-guessing.

She exhaled sharply, shoulders deflating as she tried again. “Could you do me a favour?”

Roman arched a brow, glancing at her out the corner of his eye. “Depends on the favour.”

“Nothing… crazy,” she rushed to explain, a nervous edge creeping into her words. “And honestly, if you can’t, it’s fine. I get it. You’ve got your own stuff, and I don’t want t–”

“I’ll do it.”

She blinked at him, startled by how quickly and definitively he’d agreed. “You don’t even know what it is,” she tilted her head.

“Does it matter?”

“You love to play the hero, eh?” she huffed through a soft, incredulous laugh.

He shot her a look that was half-warning, half-amused. “I’m not a hero. What d’ya need, Princess?”

Fidgeting with one of the buckles on her leather jacket, she hummed. “I uh… I need you to put me in touch with Tamina.”

“Tamina?” Of all the things she could’ve asked, that wasn’t what he expected.

“Yeah.” She looked up at him, already seeing the question in his eyes before he could ask it. “I need to sort something out,” she said. “I need information on someone, and Tamina… she’s the best at finding things, right?”

There was no hesitation when he nodded almost instantly. “Alright.”

That simplicity caught her off guard. “Just like that?” she asked, squinting at him like he had an ulterior motive.

“Just like that,” he confirmed.

Honestly, she was expecting to have to go into details, to convince him to let her talk with Tamina, but apparently not.

“O-okay,” she finally uttered. “Can you give her my burner number?”

“Your burner?”

She nodded, glancing away briefly before meeting his eyes again. “I can’t leave any trace of this. Not at home, not on my regular line. Nothing. I’m being serious, Roman, this needs to stay off the radar.”

As much as she expected him to press for answers, he wanted to. It was just part of who he was; the constant need to be aware of everything that’s going on, not content with the thought of not being in the know about something he is indirectly aiding. But Nate clearly had her reasons, and if those reasons meant she had to go to these lengths to actually ask him for help, he wasn’t about to argue it.

“Fine,” he mumbled, reaching for his phone from his pocket to make a note for himself. “You’ll hear from her soon.”

“Okay…” Nate sat in silence as she watched his long thumbs move over his phone screen, her thoughts clearly still racing, her own fingers drummed lightly against her knee. She couldn’t help the shifting in her seat, and the need to take slow, deep breaths.

Eventually, her hand hovered near the door handle, but she didn’t open it yet. Instead, she turned toward him, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered, carrying a note of sincerity even he wasn’t prepared for. He raised an eyebrow, now averting his gaze back to her.

“For what?”

“For… I don’t know.” She stumbled on her words, then let out a small laugh, muttering to herself, “Ya chertovski nenavizhu sebya…” She cleared her throat. “For not making this harder than it already is, I guess. For just saying yes without asking too many questions.”

Roman shrugged, placing his phone on the dashboard. “You needed somethin’. I said I’d do it.”

There it was again—that simplicity. So infuriatingly matter-of-fact. Nate felt a warmth bloom in her chest, but she shoved it down before it could spread too far and too wide. She leaned forward slightly, taking in the details of his face as if trying to decide whether or not she should do what she was thinking of doing. What her body was telling, ordering her to do.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she proceeded to lean in closer, her lips brushing softly against Roman’s cheek, just above where his beard meticulously bordered the rest of his face. A kiss so quick and delicate that it almost didn’t happen.

Freezing for half a second, Roman’s body came to a stop at the unexpected gesture. She lingered just long enough for him to feel the warmth of her spearmint breath, the faint scent of her perfume protracting in the process. And the shampoo she used, clear-as-day vanilla with the smallest hint of rhubarb, coming together with the cocoa butter lotion left as an after-aroma.

Intoxicating.

When she pulled back, there was something gentle behind her honey eyes—something vulnerable. “Thank you,” she said again, more as a mumble this time.

He didn’t answer, just kept the dark fix of his gaze locked on her with an unreadable countenance.

Alas, she cleared her throat once more, straightening up as she reached for the door handle again. “Keep me in the loop, okay? About those folders Seth gave you. I want to know what else is in there.”

Roman nodded once, curtly and with an air of finality. “You’ll know.”

Nate opened the door and slipped out of the car, the cool night air hitting her as she turned back to face him.

“Goodnight, Reigns. Don’t get yourself killed,” she said, a smirk appearing in the limited light. He mirrored, switching on the engine and resting his forearm over the steering wheel.

“G’night, Princess.”

With one last tight-lipped smile, she shut the door and made her way toward the apartment building, her figure disappearing into the shadows. Roman sat there, staring at her fading form in the side-view mirror, the faint impression of her kiss still lingering on his cheek like a ghost.

He didn’t even move until she was completely out of sight, until he knew she’d gotten inside the building, and it wasn’t even until he was halfway home that he realised she’d played on his mind the whole time. Never once left a single iota of brainpower for anything else. She was getting under his skin in ways he hadn’t anticipated, more than she ever had done up until that moment, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

All he knew was that, for reasons he didn’t want to admit, he found himself admiring her all over again.

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islandtarochips · 1 year ago

Text

Call of Duty OC: Tiala “Malie” Toa🦈

Commission Art done by @temeyes 🔼

A young female First Sergeant, who joined the U.S. Marines Corps to honor her older brother’s name. Who sadly passed away from one of the toughest missions. Working long and hard to save civilians from being captive by terrorists or any dangerous enemies. She’s the woman who would get the job done.

UNIVERSE: Modern Warfare 2/Modern Warfare 3

General:

🦈 Name: Tiala Toa 🦈 Alias(es):

Tiala

Tia

Ala (her family and closed friends called her that)

Toa

Malie

Lie (lee-eh)

Shark

First Sergeant/Sergeant Toa

First Sergeant/Sergeant Malie

First Sergeant/Sergeant T (Only her team or closed friends are allowed to call her that)

Sharky (Only close friends can call her that)

Alpha 5-0

🦈 Gender: Female 🦈 Age: 24 (MW2), 25 (MW3) 🦈 Birthday: November 19th, 1997 🦈 Nationality: United State National (American Samoa) 🦈 Place of Birth: American Samoa 🦈 Home: Kahaluu, Hawaii (Moved there to where the base are at) 🦈 Spoken Languages: English, Samoan (Native), Spanish (Learning) 🦈 Sexuality: Heterosexual 🦈 Occupation:

First Sergeant of the Marine Corps

Second-in-Command of the Warriors Task Force

Sniper

Appearance:

🦈 Eye Color: Dark Brown 🦈 Hair Color: Black 🦈 Height: 5’7”/170 cm 🦈 Scars:

Wounds: Bullet wounds on her right shoulder where her burnt scar was at (caused by Callie Graves), even on her left hip (caused by one of the Shadow Company members)

Scars: Full burnt scar on her right arm where her tattoos were at (caused by the enemies who she got kidnapped), some small scars on her left arm (suicidal while being kidnapped)

🦈 Face Claim: Auli'i Cravalho

Favorites:

🦈 Color: Ocean Blue 🦈 Food: Samoan Oka and Hawaiian Poke 🦈 Drink: Water 🦈 Flower: Red Hibiscus 🦈 Hairstyle: Braided (during work time) and either putting her up in a bun or hair down (out of work)

Affiliation:

Warriors Task Force:

- General Alana Kalani

- Captain Kanoa Toa

- Sergeant Agnes “Blast” Falagi

- Dr. Aelan Kalani

- Sergeant Nigel “Squirrel” Harrison

- Tama Nikau

- Special Officer Emma Tabua

Specters/Team Charlie: ( @deeptrashwitch )

- Captain Alicia “Origin” Marchant

- Lieutenant Luke “Harlem” Michaelis

- Sergeant Jackson “Doc” Blackwell

- Sergeant Edward “Eager” Jackson

- Corporal Noah “Cobalto” Garcia

Mexican Special Forces/Los Vaqueros:

- Colonel Alejandro Vargas

- Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra

- Special Officer Alyssa Martinez ( @alypink )

Task Force 141:

- Captain John Price

- Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley

- Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish

- Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

- Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin ( @sleepyconfusedpotato )

- Sergeant Major Hannah “Sparrow” Clayton ( @revnah1406 )

- Sergeant Annabelle “Kit” Pham ( @applbottmjeens and later joined in the Shadow Company)

Para Special Forces: ( @welldonekhushi )

- Captain Arjun

- Sergeant Aditya Tripathi

- Staff Sergeant Yuvraj Chaudhary

Shadow Company:

- Annabelle “Kit” Pham ( @applbottmjeens )

Second Commando Regiment: ( @kaitaiga )

- Captain Lachlan Jones

- Sergeant Damien Whitlock

CIA:

- Station Chief Kate Laswell

Personality:

🦈 Myers Briggs Type: ISTJ If you want the job done right away. Tiala is there to finish it. Whatever task that you have she’ll do it even if it’s small. She just wants to assist to make things easier for her friends and comrades (if you're trustful enough for her).

🦈 Strict but Caring: Just like her father, who used to be in the military, she is very strict when it comes to training. Making sure that the recruits are not just lacking or sitting around. She made sure they DO things. But she is very caring for her comrades. You can say it's called "Tough Love" (learned that from her parents).

🦈 Judgmental: Tiala had a habit of judging people at first glance. Of course, she doesn’t show it when meeting someone during work hours. But OUT of work? She’ll just give you that look. The look that says it all.

🦈 Stubborn: Tiala is usually a stubborn gal. She doesn’t usually ask for help. It was really concerning for others to see her working by herself very hard without any assistance. But if you’re a close friend with her. She’ll reconsider.

🦈 Reluctant: There are times that Tiala will hesitate when it comes to deal with people who has families. Should understand she has her OWN family back at home. So that will hold her back at times.

🦈 Bad Driving Skills: She doesn’t have a very BAD driving skills. She can drive nicely! BUT. When it comes to the situation that someone is rushing her or annoys her WHILE driving. She’ll just swerve the car a bit. As long as you let her focus on driving then everything will be alright. Just be silenced and enjoy the ride😊 (And she had a driver’s license)

Skills and Abilities:

🦈 Fighting Style: Hand-to-Hand Combat, Martial Arts and Boxing

🦈 Weapons: Mk 13 rifle, M4A1 and Benelli M4

🦈 Distinct Weapon: Gerber Gear Knife and Glock G43X

🦈 Special Skills:

Sharpshooter: A very skillful sniper who can take down any targets. From near and far.

Swimming: I know most people can swim but for Tiala. She can swim and goes down under water for over 20 minutes. How deep? About 50ft down.

Planning: She always has great plans to succeed in their missions. Even have a backup plan in case. If you need someone to plan ahead for any special occasions. Tiala is the woman you need.

Family:

Nakoa Toa (Father, Alive)

Elei Afoa Toa (Mother, Alive)

Hōne Toa (1st Eldest Brother, Deceased)

Sami Toa (2nd Eldest Brother, Alive)

Serah Johnson Toa (Sister-in-Law, Sami’s Wife, Alive)

Penny Toa (Niece, Sami’s eldest daughter, Alive)

Dinah Toa (Niece, Sami’s baby daughter, Alive)

Rangi Toa (3rd Eldest Brother, Alive)

Kanoa Toa (4th Eldest Brother, Alive)

Hemi Toa (5th Youngest Brother, Alive)

Iosefa Toa (4th Youngest Brother, Alive)

Tamah Toa (3rd Youngest Brother, Alive)

Fetu Fetuao Toa (2nd Youngest Brother, Alive)

Iona and Kiona Toa (Youngest Brother, Twins, Alive)

Pets:

Fin (Tiala’s Kitten, Alive)

Teine (Kanoa’s dog, Alive)

Unnamed Dog (Sami’s Dog, Alive)

Unnamed Puppy (Tamah’s Puppy, Alive)

Maliu (Tiala’s Cat, Alive)

Trivia:

🦈 Tiala’s last name, Toa. Means ‘Warriors’ in Samoan. So you could see that these families REALLY represented their names. By joining the military. 🦈 Love Sharks and the oceans. She secretly has a shark plushie back at home (Kanoa got that for her). 🦈 HATES the cold. It always makes her nose runny and needs a lair of coats and scarfs to keep her warm. 🦈 Heat doesn’t bother her. Even wearing long sleeves and putting her hair down under the heated weather. She lives in a "Tropical Island". What do you expect?

Background Story: (WARNING: Might mention about Sexual Abuse and Kidnapping)

In American Samoa on November 19th, 1997. Tiala was born. And she was the youngest one in the family.

After two years of Tiala being born, her older brother (Hōne) had left to the Marine but he would always come back home to spend time with his family.

When Tiala turned 16-years-old, it was her birthday. She had received very sad news from Kanoa. Kanoa came back from the Marines to tell them the news that Hōne had sadly passed away from the mission that he was sent to. Which really upset Tiala. She could feel her heart was crying out for her dearly older brother. For he had promised that he’ll come back home on her special day. So she hadn’t celebrated her birthday much since then.

During her Sophomore Year in High School, she was still 16. Tiala had a crush on a boy who was part of the football team. And she was trying to ask him out before their Christmas break. And to her excitement, he accepted. She had thought that she had found love in her life. But little did she know that her happy love life would turn out dark.

After the summer break, Tiala is a Junior in High School. Her boyfriend has been acting pretty touchy lately. NOT in a good way though. More like touching the part that she doesn’t want him to touch. Which made him upset. And she doesn’t want him to be upset. So she let him have his fun.

Until the year of her being a Senior, her boyfriend had been getting a bit more possessive than being lovely. And it worried her that she needed to talk with her family. But that’s when he pulls the threats on her if she EVER tells anyone about this. She hesitated and didn’t tell anyone. Except that her little brother, named Hemi, saw what her boyfriend was doing in the back of the school. Hemi was being sent by their parents to check on Tiala that they’re there to pick her up. He was going to tell their parents but Tiala begged him not to. So he just gave in and didn’t tell their parents.

And on the night of the Senior Prom. The school let the Senior students bring some of their family members to join in this special occasion. So Tiala happily invited her parents and some of her brothers. Which is only Rangi, Kanoa and Hemi. The night was going so well until Tiala’s boyfriend wanted to take her away from the party so they could have their “FUN” which she doesn’t want to. And that’s when he started to get very pushy at it. Which caught Hemi’s attention to see his older sister being pulled away. So calling the two older brothers. Kanoa and Rangi quickly came in and took Tiala back before warning the boyfriend to stay away. Soon the whole crowd’s attention was on them as the boyfriend was getting pissed off. Starting to yell at Tiala and blaming her for being such a boring kind of partner. And that’s when he confessed that he cheated on her with another girl. Which fueled Kanoa’s anger but instead of HIM beating the boyfriend up. Everyone was surprised to see Hemi ran in and tackled him down. Beating him up instead. One of the teachers pulled the two boys away and ended the party.

(Everyone was alright. Just Hemi’s knuckles were being bruised up and he was 11-years-old! Can you believe that?)

After graduation, Tiala had started to plan on joining the Marine Corps with her two brothers. To honor for Hōne. So they started packing and the two older boys took her to Hawaii. Where the camping of the Marine soldiers will be at. She had worked long and hard to finish her test and training. Which was worth it for she had passed all of it. And the two older brothers were very proud. She was 17-years-old when she joined.

So Tiala had taken the position as Staff Sergeant after serving for 4 years and she had made quite a few friends. But her two main friends who she had met are Staff Sergeant Ela Anand and Master Sergeant Herman Black. The two had always made her feel so welcoming ever since she joined in. And the three had been picked by an unnamed Colonel who needed soldiers to help assist to stop the human trafficking. And he did warn them about how dangerous this could be. The three friends were excited for this mission but Tiala’s older brother, Rangi, disapproved of this. He had his concerns for her as this was her FIRST mission and were afraid that something bad might happen. Kanoa had reassured Rangi that she’ll be fine. He will go with her to keep her safe. Tiala agreed with this term even the Colonel agreed as well.

They have traveled to Baja California. The borderline of part Mexico. The team had gotten an intel about Human Trafficking in that area. They have believed that the Drug Cartel is making deals with the other Trafficker who was doing Human Trafficking. So they have to act fast to stop them. The Colonel had already made orders to separate two different teams. Which Tiala is going with Ela and Herman and the others. But Kanoa cannot go as he is going with the Colonel and the other teams. Tiala had reassured her older brother that she’ll be fine since she’s going with her two friends. The two different teams had already split up as they went to look for the Cartel. But Tiala and her team have been ambushed and kidnapped by them. This was in May 2017.

3 months later. Tiala and her two friends are the only ones who are still alive. They don’t know what these cartel people do to their other team members but they have to stay strong and hope that the other marines will come to their rescue. But after a few weeks, Tiala had seen Herman had been dragged out of his cell first and was being pushed by the men. She doesn’t know what they’ll do to him. But her question has been answered by the sound of guns shooting and some people screaming. Her eyes widened at this and felt Ela hugging her and trying to comfort her. They need to get out of here and FAST.

At the very last week of the month, Ela had already had a plan to escape. And Tiala agreed to go through it. The two had already escaped from their cell and put down most of the enemies who were blocking them. And all they have to do is to go over the wall. Ela wanted Tiala to go first and was about to boost her up before being shot. Tiala was devastated and shocked as she saw her only friend had died in her own blood. She was taken back and was dealing with her PUNISHMENT. Which you will know of how she got her burnt scar on her tattoos. And already losing her virginity.

2 months later, Tiala was slowly losing her emotions and her insanity as she kept working for those bastards. As they were having their fun. And today was her last day to be living in this cruel world. FINALLY. Before they could even take her, there was a sudden shooting in the area. And even BIG explosions. Who could it be?

It was the Marines. And her brother Kanoa was the one who was leading and had found her. So he took Tiala quickly to the medical area back to the base. October 2017.

Tiala was released from the Marines just to let her rest and hopefully recovered both mentally and physically. She wasn’t the same from then. She didn’t want any of her brothers or her father to come near her. Even though they are her family she couldn’t get the images about those MEN out of her head. Every time they come near. She’ll scream or flinched when they are present. Which really hurts their hearts.

It’s been 2 months that Tiala has to recover and still didn’t let any of her brothers or her father come near. Until, Kanoa had an idea. While Tiala was just resting on her bed, looking through the window. She suddenly hears someone singing outside of her room. So curiously, she slowly walked out of her room and into the living room before seeing Kanoa was playing the guitar while singing their favorite church song. Called “A Pei Se Vaitafe” (Like a River). And she slowly walked over to Kanoa as memories flowed through her mind of how Hōne used to sing that song to her. And sat down next to him as she softly sang along with him. Her whole family slowly peeked in to see this and was very touched to see Tiala had finally come out to her family.

Before the Summer starts, in the year of 2018. Tiala had come back all fresh and new. For she wanted to continue to serve for her lost friends and brother. And then she heard that Kanoa was making a Task Force. She was also being asked by the General, named Alana and the one who was helping Kanoa to form a team for his Task Force, if she wanted to join. So she didn’t hesitate to take it and was placed in to be Kanoa’s Second-in-Command. That’s when she met the other two new members of the team. Sergeant Agnes “Blast” Falagi and Dr. Aelan Kalani. The two soldiers who were the one who helped Kanoa to save her. And she had given her thanks and accepted them into their new team.

MOOD BOARD

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