Declan's heartbeat quickened as he approached the door, its polished surface reflecting his apprehensive expression. He straightened his jacket, seeking to regain composure, and reached for the handle. With a firm grip, he turned it, and the door swung open to reveal an opulent room.
The atmosphere was hushed, as if the very air held its breath in anticipation. A long mahogany table stood at the center of the room, surrounded by high-backed leather chairs.
Declan entered the room, his footsteps barely making a sound on the plush carpet beneath his feet. The eyes of the gathered individuals turned towards him, their gazes both curious and calculating. A mix of excitement and unease pulsed through his veins as he took his seat, the weight of the room settling upon his broad shoulders.
The investor's voice, a deep baritone that seemed to resonate with authority, broke the silence. "Welcome, Mr. Callahan. I trust you enjoyed your victory?"
Declan nodded, his eyes fixed on the investor. "Thank you, I'm honored to have emerged victorious."
A nod of acknowledgement passed among the figures seated around the table. They were a mosaic of champions, legends of the ring whose names were whispered in reverence. Declan felt a mix of awe and trepidation, aware that he had entered the inner sanctum of boxing's elite.
The investor leaned forward, his voice laced with a note of intrigue. "Mr. Callahan, we've been following your career closely. Your skill and determination have not gone unnoticed. Today, I extend to you an invitation—an opportunity to join us, a gathering of professional boxers united by a common agenda."
Declan's curiosity piqued, his gaze locked onto the man's face. "And what is this agenda?"
A faint smile played at the corners of the investor's lips. "We are a select group dedicated to elevating the sport of boxing. We seek to enact changes, to ensure that the boxers are not just seen as athletes but as individuals with aspirations and rights. We aim to reshape the landscape of professional boxing, to protect its fighters and empower them."
But he wasn't sure any of it was his problem. Declan himself had learnt to set his own path and fight back against any oppression and discrimination he encountered. Back when he started, the world was not kind to him and neither was the ring. He had to make a name for himself yet his reputation as the Celtic Fury was given to him by his fans.
The words resonated with Declan, stirring a fire within him. He had witnessed the struggles faced by other boxers, the countless stories of exploitation and neglect. He wanted to understand them but Declan also understood that there were much more important things to be done other than worrying about other people. At the end of the day professional boxers will always find themselves in the ring against each other no matter how friendly and supportive they are.
As if reading his thoughts, the investor continued, his voice tinged with conviction. "We have the means, the influence, and the resources to effect change. And with you, Mr. Callahan, we can amplify our impact. Your status as a champion, your popularity—these are catalysts for transformation."
Declan's heart pounded in his chest as he contemplated the proposition. The allure of a united front, fighting for the betterment of professional boxers, tugged at his conscience. But it also meant laying himself bare in a pond full of alligators. It meant taking on the kind of risks he was not ready to.
He could hear Martin's voice echoing in his head.
'This is what we've been waiting for!'
Of Course it was. Declan thought. A chance at the inner circle. It wasn't only about more money, but about international fights and a united boxing community.
Any fighter would give the world to be seated where he was.
After a moment of contemplation, Declan met the investor's gaze with unwavering determination. "Count me in. I believe in this cause, in the power of unity and change. "
A collective murmur of approval rippled through the room as the figures around the table nodded in agreement. The investor extended a hand, and Declan clasped it firmly, sealing their alliance. The weight of his decision settled on his shoulders.
He noticed the glint of utter confusion that crossed the investors' eyes. Declan wondered for a moment, before an ultimate realization hit him. He hadn't bothered to ask about their names. and he wasn't going to. The last thing he wanted was to seem like a friendly person or rather to seem intimidated in the eyes of the investors. Declan understood the depth of privacy and the anonymous tip that rested on the iceberg of organizations like this. Right where he was is where every other professional boxer in Britain would want to be. He had gotten a golden opportunity but he wasn't going to dumb himself down in appreciation. He needed to maintain his front.
He needed to maintain his reputation. After all, what's the worst that could happen?
****************************
Declan Callahan stood at the entrance of Lativ Delveve, a discreet and exclusive establishment tucked away in the heart of the city. The grand facade dictated opulence. This was a place of secrets, where facades were meticulously crafted, and illusions were sold to those seeking companionship.
Accompanying Declan was Martin, a stern expression on his face, phone in hand, as he slid his hand clockwise over the screen, declining the third call from Frantico.
"Still calling!'' Declan commented his eyes fast forward.
"They're not going to quit." Martin answered, sliding his phone back into his breast pocket.
" Angelica should have explained everything by now unless of course she gave a different story.''
"Of course she did, man, what do you expect? she wanted to make a name for herself but she went at it the wrong way.'' Martin straightened his suit, sparing a glance at his client before looking back ahead.
" There is no right way. I paid her to do a job and she got all emotional and unprofessional. That's the last thing I want.''
There was silence between them for a while. Declan's words sunk in the atmosphere. He hated nothing more than empty broken promises.
"Frantico is going out of business, we knew it would happen one way or another.''
" I'm not surprised.''
Frantico was the high-end escort Enterprise where Declan pulled all of his fake girlfriends from. He had a reputation of never attending one charity gala or party with the same woman. He had made an exception however over the past few months and he had come in attendance with Angelica Wala, a full-time model and a part-time secret escort for billionaires, celebrities and high-end clients.
Angelica however, as expected, had fallen in love with Declan and crossed the lines of professionalism.
Now, they had switched to a different Enterprise. the newest upcoming, Lativ Delveve: Where Luxury connection meets professional integrity.
As they entered the foyer, an air of exclusivity enveloped them. The reception area, adorned with plush furnishings and a crystal chandelier, emanated a sense of elegance. A receptionist, poised and immaculate, greeted them with a warm smile.
"Welcome to Lativ Delveve," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "How may I assist you today?"
Martin stepped forward, a confidence in his demeanor born from familiarity with this world. "We have an appointment with Mr. Delveve himself. Please inform him that Declan Callahan has arrived."
The receptionist nodded, her eyes gleaming with recognition. She stared up at Declan, swallowing hard as she licked her painted lips. She picked up the phone, her fingers deftly dialing a number as she relayed the message. Moments later, she hung up and turned back to Declan and Martin.
"Mr. Delveve will see you now," she said, gesturing toward a richly decorated corridor. "Please follow me."
Declan and Martin followed the receptionist through the corridor, their steps muffled by the plush carpet beneath their feet. Paintings adorned the walls, each one a masterpiece that hinted at the secrets concealed within these walls. The air held a sense of intrigue, as if the very atmosphere were charged with whispered desires.
They reached a set of ornate double doors, beyond which lay the inner sanctum of Lativ Delveve. The receptionist paused, her hand poised on the door handle, and turned to face them.
"Mr. Delveve will introduce you to the concept of our establishment," she explained, her voice low and measured. "You will have the opportunity to explore the possibility of engaging one of our escorts, who will accompany you as a girlfriend in public settings."
Declan felt a mixture of apprehension and hesitance.
The receptionist pushed open the doors, revealing a lavish office bathed in soft golden light. Behind a mahogany desk sat the enigmatic figure of Lativ Delveve, a middle-aged man with an air of confidence and sophistication. His eyes sparkled with a combination of business acumen and a shrewd understanding of human desires.
"Welcome, gentlemen," Delveve greeted them, his voice carrying a melodic cadence. "Please, have a seat."
Declan and Martin took the offered seats, their gazes fixed on Delveve, who steepled his fingers and leaned forward.
"Mr. Callahan, it is an honor to have you here," Delveve began, his tone respectful. "You are a prominent figure, and we understand the unique challenges that come with your status. Our establishment provides a solution—an opportunity for you to have a companion who can navigate the public eye alongside you, someone who can lend an air of authenticity to your public image."
Declan's brow furrowed as he listened, grappling with the notion of constructing a relationship based on pretense. He had always valued authenticity, both inside and outside the ring. But he also recognized the need for privacy, for shielding the vulnerable parts of his life from the prying eyes of the world.
Martin, sensing Declan's hesitation, spoke up. "Mr. Delveve, we appreciate the concept you offer, but we seek more than just appearances. Are any of your escorts trained?''
Delve paused for a moment before smiling.
" Yes, of course. What we have here is not just women dressed in fancy dresses and mediocre heels. Our escorts understand the length of professionalism and what is expected of them. for the purposes of privacy, contracts are signed and they can easily be broken if our esteemed clients feel the escort provided to them broke the terms of agreement or did the Unthinkable.'' Delveve explained.
" I understand you come straight from Frantico?" Declan's eyes shot up, for a moment, the facade of The Celtic Fury had broken free.
" And how would you know that?'' he spoke, meeting Delveve's eyes.
"Apologies if it feels like I'm stepping in on private matter but we also have an obligation towards our escorts, and we accord them with the same assurance we give to you.''
Martin noticed the tension in the room, he looked at Declan and then back at Mr Delveve.
"Is there room for genuine connection in this arrangement?" Martin interrupted. Declan looked back at him, furrowing his eyebrows and rolling his eyes. Genuine connection was not at the top of his list. if he would have it then he'd rather pick a robot who wouldn't give him any problems and who wouldn't bring emotional baggage. Declan was in it for professionalism. Some time back, Declan had tried it the opposite way. Yet being in a normal relationship in the confines of his profession proved catastrophic.
Delveve smiled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of understanding. "Authenticity, within the bounds of discretion, is indeed a possibility. While our escorts are skilled in maintaining a facade, many of them possess depth and empathy. It is a delicate balance, but one that can yield meaningful connections, even within the confines of public scrutiny."
Declan's skepticism began to waver as he contemplated Delveve's words.
He however knew that beneath the facade, there might be those who sought more than just a transactional relationship, and that was the last thing he wanted.
He nodded, a newfound openness seeping into his demeanor. "I am willing to explore this further." He spoke bluntly.
Delveve's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Excellent, Mr. Callahan. I will introduce you to a select few escorts who might be suitable. Take your time, and should you find a connection that resonates, we can further discuss the specifics of this arrangement."
As Declan rose from his seat, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty coursed through his veins.
He wasn't just looking for a fake girlfriend to attend the charity gala with, but he needed someone good enough for the public eye. Someone who wouldn't embarrass him. Someone who wasn't going to be clingy and someone who wasn't going to be too distant. He needed a woman who played by the perfect waters. Who understood the balance of it and who could easily match with his life while having a life of her own.
And so he delved into the halls, accompanied by Martin and Delveve, not holding any high expectations, and wishing this damn day would be over already.