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Deep. Like, abyss deep. She knew that voice. She had heard it several times in her headphones, mocking her right before shooting her avatar in the face. Forgetting about her phone that she was holding, Min looked up just in time to see a man storm out from the hallway. He was taller than she had expected, well over six feet. And he was broad, not even his black hoodie hiding the expanse of his shoulders, his well-worn jeans hugging him in a way that Min felt was borderline indecent. He strode into the waiting room like he was going to war, clearly pissed, his dark eyes snapping, his dark hair chaotic, waves and curls rioting with every movement he made, looking like a buff, angry Tom Hiddleston. The executives chasing after him really had to hurry to catch up, his long legs eating up the distance to the elevators.

One of them tried. “Mr. Hayes, please, if you would just give us a moment.”

“No. This was a waste of time,” he said in a hard voice that Min was very happy wasn’t directed at her.

Struggling with her shock of seeing DeathsHead in person, Min forgot that she was still holding her phone. And that she had been holding it upright, coincidentally pointing directly toward where DeathsHead and the execs had entered. She suddenly snapped into herself, quickly clicking the phone off and lowering it. But not before his eyes snapped to her, locking on.

Furious.

His anger radiated off of him as he changed directions and stormed toward her. With his long legs, it was only a moment before he was right there, towering over where she still sat on the bench.

“Delete the picture you just took.” His voice was somehow deeper with anger. Min had played with him several times and had never heard him this enraged before, this serious.

She shook her head, trying to look innocent. Because she was innocent, damn it.

“I didn’t take a picture,” she insisted.

He hovered even closer to her, and she could smell the clean scent of his aftershave.

“You did. I know it. You know it. Don’t be an asshole and just delete it already.”

Min felt her own temper flare. She respected his need for privacy. Hell, she shared it. But she hadn’t done what he was accusing her of, and now she was getting pissed. And like it did when she was angry, her mouth was about to take over and probably make things worse.

“I didn’t take your fucking picture. Back off.”

Instead of listening, he came even closer, leaning over her, an arm on the back of the wall behind her. Min couldn’t help but feel completely surrounded. So she straightened her spine, not letting herself back away from him in any way.

“Don’t lie to me. If you know who I am, you know how serious I take this.”

Min glanced to the guys behind him, the two extremely nervous executives hovering nearby, clearly not sure what to do. One of them spoke up, his voice uncertain.

“I’m sure she didn’t—”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Death cut him off.

Min vaguely realized that they must have been recruiting him for the tournament. Even as pissed as she was, she knew it made sense. DeathsHead was a big draw. He would easily skyrocket their streaming numbers.

Min locked eyes with the dark tower of a man leaning over her, doing his best to intimidate her, and she thought about her shithead ex, Alex. How her life and business had been ruined when that asshole decided to post pictures of her naked body, and she felt her anger burn with the deep fire of women everywhere fucking tired of men pushing them around.

And she snapped.

“I do know who you are, fucknut. Which is why I didn’t take a photo, because I know you’d hate it. And I really don’t appreciate being spoken to like this. I was invited here for a meeting. I’m not here for you. So get. The fuck. Out of my face.”

She stood while she spoke, forcing him to lean back and let her. Their toes practically touched as she glared up at him, her high heels only doing so much to add to her modest height, bringing her head up to his chin. In her peripheral, she saw the two executives exchange glances, but she ignored them. Ignored everything except his dark eyes hot on hers.

She barely registered a flicker of heat in her stomach, a fluttering of… something… but she ignored that, too, assuming it was her temper.

His eyes narrowed, clearly not impressed.

“Youwere invited here for a meeting?” His voice was skeptical, and while Min couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t recognize her or because he didn’t think she’d merit a meeting, it no longer mattered. DeathsHead was a bigger draw than FlameThrower even before her photo scandal. The two executives staring at them had to be the ones in charge of the tournament, and they clearly wanted DeathsHead. They were watching this all go down and were saying nothing to defend her or verify her story. If Death was pissed at her, there was no way he’d let them keep her in the tournament. This meeting was fucked no matter what she did now.

She exhaled sharply, very suddenly done with this entire situation.

“Fuck this.” She should have known this meeting was too good to be true. She was an idiot for thinking something was finally going right, that she would actually be able to salvage her streaming career and dig her family out of the oncoming medical debt. Disappointment was threatening to engulf her, and she had to get out of here before she let any of these assholes see.

Grabbing her purse, she bumped his shoulder hard enough to move him out of her way and made a beeline toward the elevator. She smashed the call button before the executives had a chance to remember how to talk, if they were even inclined to try to stop her. She was done with this meeting, done with the farce of pretending she can simply win her old career back. Alex wanted her destroyed, and so far, it had worked. But she was far from done fighting for herself. Maybe she couldn’t do this tournament, but she would figure something out, something to get herself back on track and to help support her family. Min didn’t need this, didn’t need these people.

And she certainly didn’t need DeathsHead.

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