Bree Lancaster vs. Glory Braddock

[Braddock]

1 of 2. Not sure how this turned out but at least I did manage to post something lol

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October 3rd, 2026
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
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The sting of defeat never quite washed away with the hot water of a locker room shower. For Glory Braddock, the silence following the final three-count at Rise To Greatness had echoed louder than any roar from the packed arena crowd. It was supposed to be her night, the grand culmination of weeks spent sharpening her body and mind in the damp, honest air of her father’s London gym. She had returned to her roots, stripped away every distraction, and convinced herself that victory over La Pequeña Luz was the absolute prerequisite for earning another shot at the SCW World Championship.. Instead, she had walked out of the ring with empty hands and a heavy heart. The match itself had been an absolute war, an exhausting masterclass of technical counter-wrestling and raw intensity that had left both women broken against the canvas. Luz had been every bit the formidable force Glory anticipated, matching her power move for move and capitalizing on the briefest, microscopic lapse in Glory’s defense to secure the pinfall. It was a clean defeat, the kind that offered no easy excuses or comfortable scapegoats. Glory hadn't been screwed by corporate shenanigans or caught off guard by an unfair distraction; she had simply been outmaneuvered in the final seconds of a grueling contest. For a competitor who defined herself through victory, the loss felt like a physical weight pressing down on her chest, threatening to undermine everything she had sacrificed over the preceding months.

Now, the calendar moved forward without pity, presenting her with an immediate, imperative chance for redemption on the upcoming edition of SCW Breakdown. Her opponent was Bree Lancaster, another competitor coming off of a loss at Rise To Greatness and desperate to turn things around. For Glory, this match against Lancaster was no longer just another obligation on the event card; it was an absolute must-win situation. A second consecutive loss would derail her title ambitions for the foreseeable future, banishing her from the championship conversation. Rebounding required an immediate return to the absolute focus that had built her reputation. She needed to prove to the SCW roster, to the fans, and most importantly to herself, that one setback could not break her resolve. As she sat alone in her Miami study waiting for Catalina, the looming threat of Bree Lancaster served as a constant background hum, reminding her that while the corporate wars were fought in mahogany boardrooms, her ultimate truth would always be decided inside the four posts of the wrestling ring.

The late afternoon light had begun to bleed into a bruised purple and burnt orange across the Miami horizon, casting long, dramatic shadows across the polished walnut floor of the private study. Outside the broad glass panels, the salt air moved through the fronds of the royal palms with a low, dry rustle, a constant ambient sound that usually brought a sense of quiet solitude to the Miami estate. Inside, however, the air was dense and completely still, holding the heavy, lingering heat of a tropical day that the air conditioning couldn't quite chase away from the corners of the room. Glory Braddock sat motionless behind her desk, a massive slab of dark timber lined with subtle grain patterns that had seen decades of quiet contemplation and hard choices. She wore a dark, sleeveless compression top and faded black pants, her long blonde hair gathered into a loose, functional twist at the back of her head. One arm rested casually along the leather armrest of her executive chair, while her other hand lay flat against the cool wood of the desk, her fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm that matched the ticking of the brass carriage clock on the nearby bookshelf. Her face was set in a mask of absolute, unreadable focus, her dark eyes fixed on the arched doorway at the far end of the room. The subtle hum of tires over the crushed stone driveway outside signalled an end to the waiting. A few moments later, the distant, muffled sound of a car door closing echoed through the main foyer, followed by the familiar, measured click of high heels advancing down the tiled hallway. The footsteps were steady and unhurried, carrying the smooth, unwavering confidence of someone who refused to let herself appear rattled, regardless of the circumstances.

Catalina De Luca appeared in the doorway, framed against the warm light of the corridor. She looked immaculate, dressed in a tailored, off white linen suit that seemed tailor made for the Florida heat, her dark hair falling in soft, flawless waves over her shoulders. A slender gold watch gleamed on her wrist, and she carried a dark leather briefcase loosely at her side, her posture effortlessly composed. She paused at the threshold for a brief second, her dark, perceptive eyes sweeping over the quiet study, taking in the deliberate layout of the room and the silent figure waiting behind the desk before she took her first step across the threshold.

“You’re a little late, Cat.” Glory remarks. That’s very…uncharacteristic of you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Cat laughs softly. “Traffic was horrible. But I’m not going to give up this opportunity to visit my very best friend who gave me this opportunity to escape my family’s criminal past and make an honest living.”

This is the same story Braddock has heard before and knows all too well. Catalina De Luca is the daughter of a mobster who was heavily involved in trying to fix outcomes of certain sporting events. The crime family even involved themselves in professional wrestling. The only matches they did not involve themselves with were Glenn Braddock’s matches. He was such a well respected and admired person throughout Europe that even this crime family agreed to leave him alone and allow him to win, or lose, on his own merit. Catalina grew up around this but she wanted nothing to do with it. She wanted to make an honest living, and as luck would have it, Glory Braddock needed someone to help manage her corporate empire so she could focus on her one true passion; professional wrestling. Braddock thought that by hiring Cat to perform that function, she would kill two birds with one stone.

Yet ever since Cat got this power, she has been using her new influence to make decisions that Glory does not agree with. She has forced Glory’s opposition on the Board of Directors out. She has forced a minority owner out. She recently tried to completely renovate the Glenn Braddock Wrestling School right under Glory’s nose. The British Bombshell has had enough and she plans to confront De Luca right here and right now.

“Have a seat, Cat.”

Glory says, sternly. The tone in Braddock’s voice catches Cat off guard. She genuinely thought that this would just be two good friends catching up, or at worst Glory had asked her to come down here so that she could praise her. But this is starting to sound like something very different from what she expected.

“Wow, ok.” She chuckles softly. “Now it sounds like I’m being dragged into the principal's office.”

“It’s not the principal’s office, Cat,” Glory said, her voice dropping into a low, even register that carried far more weight than a yell ever could. She gestured toward the leather armchair opposite the desk. “Sit down.”

Catalina hesitated for a fraction of a second, her sharp eyes scanning Glory’s face, measuring the distance between them. The easy, casual warmth she usually brought into the room evaporated, replaced by the cool, calculating instinct of a woman who knew when a trap had been set. She set her briefcase down beside the chair with a deliberate, soft click and smoothed the front of her off-white linen suit before sinking into the leather cushion. She crossed her legs gracefully, resting her hands in her lap, but her posture was rigid, every muscle coiled beneath her pristine attire.

“You’re taking a tone with me, Glory,” Cat said, leaning back just enough to project an air of unbothered composure. “If this is about Charlotte, or the board members again, I thought we established that I was doing what was necessary to secure your position. You can’t build an empire if you’re constantly defending yourself from people who want to tear it down.”

“What we established,” Glory replied, her hands unspooling from the desk as she slowly stood up, her broad frame towering over the dark timber, “was that you were hired to execute my vision. Not your father’s vision, not your family’s playbook, and certainly not a vision where my name is attached to backroom threats and forced resignations.”

Glory walked around the edge of the desk, her heavy training pants whispering in the quiet room. She leaned back against the mahogany edge, folding her arms across her chest as she looked down at her Chief of Staff. The setting sun behind her cast her face in deep shadow, making her dark eyes look unyielding.

“I brought you in because I trusted you,” Glory continued, her tone measured, stripped of any residual hesitation. “I wanted to give you a legitimate life, and in return, I expected you to honor the way I do business. My father earned his respect because he refused to take shortcuts. He didn't need muscle, intimidation, or quiet payouts to command a room. And neither do I.”

Catalina’s jaw tightened slightly, the mask slipping just enough to reveal the sharp, defensive pride beneath. “Let’s be honest with ourselves, Gloria. The company is stable. Political threats are neutralized. Financial projections are strong. The company couldn’t be in a better position right now and you are safer than ever. Thanks to me eliminating the threats, there is no way you could ever be ousted from your own company again.” She nods her head. “Yes, I know how your enemies ousted you once before but you fought and clawed to win it back.”

“I remember.”

“Well now you won’t have to worry about that. The threat is neutralized. You are safe. I protected you.” Cat insists.

“You protected your control,” Glory corrected softly. “You insulated me until the people who worked for me didn't even recognize me when I walked through my own front door. You thought because I didn't want the headaches of the corporate world, I’d be blind to what you were doing. But that stops today.”

“So what do you want?” Cat asks curiously. “I thought you wanted me to run this show so you can do what you could focus on being the best professional wrestler alive today. Furthermore, I thought you wanted me to run this company because you were afraid of what this company turns you into.” Catalina watches her carefully. Glory nods her head.

“You’re right, I was afraid. I know what running this company can do to me, so I hired you as a shield. But I realized that I made a mistake. Instead of fixing the problem I ran away from it like a coward. I am a Braddock, we are fighters, but I chose to let you do the fighting for me. And in the process I became diminished. I became an owner who doesn’t show up to do her job.” She sighs and shakes her head. “No one in my own company bothers to consult me about anything anymore. They just assume you speak for me and, based on some recent decisions of yours, that is definitely not the case.”

“You wanted insulation.” Cat points out.


“I wanted discipline. Not distance.” Catalina tilted her head, her dark eyes narrowing as she met Glory’s gaze directly.


“And what does that mean, exactly? Are you firing me?”

“I’m not firing you.” Glory smiles for the first time since this tense meeting began. “Why would I fire on my oldest friends? Furthermore, why would I fire someone who is genuinely trying to go straight and make an honest living away from her family’s criminal empire? I’m not a monster, Cat.”

“Then what does this mean?”

“It means the leash just got pulled all the way back,” Glory stated, her voice ironclad as the final crimson light of the Florida sunset faded into twilight outside. “You keep your title, and you keep managing the day-to-day operations. But the role is changing. There will be no more back-channel influence. No more pressure politics. No more bypassing her. All major decisions will require my presence. my voice. MY accountability. Every decision, every memo, every contract, and every board interaction goes through me first.”

“You realize that this will make you vulnerable.” Cat points out. “You won’t be as safe as you once were.”

“Vulnerablity isn’t necessarily a bad thing.” Glory states. “Being protected at all times from danger tends to make one weak. I refuse to become weakened, Cat. Even if it means having to confront my own fears.”

“Fair enough.” Cat nods her head. “You’re taking the hard way. Just like your father.”

“Yes, well, I get it honestly.”

The quiet that settled over the Miami study as Catalina left was different from the heavy, suffocating silence that had preceded her arrival. The final crimson rays of the sun had surrendered entirely to the deep indigo of the Florida night, leaving the room illuminated only by the warm amber glow of a single desk lamp and the soft moonlight filtering through the palm fronds outside. Glory remained standing by the edge of the mahogany desk for a long moment, listening to the fading rhythm of Cat's heels as they clicked down the tiled hallway, followed by the quiet closure of the front door and the distant crunch of tires pulling away down the gravel driveway. The confrontation had been a long time coming. From the quiet streets of London to the sleek corporate atrium in Charlotte, Glory had spent months watching the edges of her life fray under the weight of delegated authority. In her desire to protect her spirit from the corrupting influence of power, she had inadvertently created a vacuum, allowing Catalina’s pragmatic, grey-area methods to define the Braddock name. She had sought insulation, but in doing so, she had traded away her leadership, becoming a stranger in her own company and a ghost in her father's wrestling school.

Now, the line had been drawn. Glory had not destroyed the bridge between herself and her oldest friend, nor had she cast Catalina back into the cold shadow of her family’s criminal history. Instead, she had asserted the one thing that had been missing from her executive tenure: true accountability. By pulling the leash back and demanding that every decision, contract, and corporate policy flow directly through her own hands, Glory had accepted the full burden of leadership. She was no longer running from the messy realities of the business world, nor was she hiding behind a Chief of Staff to do her dirty work. If her company was going to succeed, it would do so on her terms, bound by the rigid, honest ethics her father had taught her.

The personal shift echoed the resolve she needed for her career inside the squared circle. The defeat against La Pequeña Luz at Rise To Greatness had cut deep, stripping away her illusions of invincibility and forcing her to confront her own vulnerabilities. But as she had told Cat only moments before, vulnerability was not weakness unless one allowed it to be. The hard road was the only road worth walking. Tomorrow, she would return to the gym, push her body through the grueling physical demands of training, and prepare to face Bree Lancaster on Breakdown with the single-minded ferocity that had made her a champion. Glory walked around her desk and slowly lowered herself into her executive chair. She reached down, picked up the thick leather binder containing the company's master financial reports, and opened it beneath the warm light of the lamp. There was no hesitation in her posture, no trace of the lingering anxiety that had haunted her in London or Charlotte. The corporate battles were far from over, and the path back to the SCW World Championship would be paved with relentless opposition, but "The British Bombshell" was no longer a spectator in her own life. She was grounded, focused, and fully in control, ready to fight for her legacy both in the boardroom and beneath the blinding lights of the ring.