10-31-2025, 03:18 PM
3 of 4
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October 26th, 2025
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
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The night air outside was still and warm, the only sounds came from the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft crackle from the modern fireplace inset into a white marble wall. The living room, open and expansive, was bathed in a low golden glow from recessed lights and the flicker of the flames. Expensive without being gaudy, every surface spoke of careful taste: cream-colored leather furniture, polished floors, sleek glass accents, and framed photographs of victories, travels, and memories lining the walls. Yet, despite its beauty, the air inside felt heavy. Something in the atmosphere had shifted, something subtle but unmistakably tense. Clyde Sutter sat forward on the edge of the long sectional sofa, his elbows on his knees, his large hands clasped tightly together. His knuckles were pale, strained from the pressure, and a deep crease had formed across his brow. The muscles in his jaw flexed rhythmically, betraying the emotion he was struggling to contain. He was dressed very simply in just a simple black T-shirt and dark jeans, but somehow that only made him seem more imposing, more raw. His long black hair hung loose, brushing against his neck, slightly disheveled from his restless movements. He stared at the floor as though it held answers he couldn’t find, his breathing shallow but deliberate. The usual calm, measured presence that defined him was gone; in its place was something colder, sharper; anger mixed with frustration, and beneath it, something deeper still. Hurt.
Across from him, on a cream leather chair angled toward the sofa, Melinda Braddock watched him carefully. Her posture was straight but not rigid, her body leaning slightly forward as if ready to move if he suddenly needed her. The soft, golden light caught the shimmer of her blonde hair as it fell loosely over her shoulders, and her eyes, usually so poised and confident, now carried a flicker of unease. She wore a simple yet elegant outfit, a fitted white blouse tucked into a knee length black skirt, the kind of effortless ensemble that spoke to her natural sense of composure. But tonight, her expression betrayed that calm. Her brow furrowed faintly as she studied Clyde, her lips parting slightly as if to speak before she stopped herself. Every instinct in her wanted to fix what was wrong, to reach out and ground him, but she knew him well enough to know that forcing calm upon him would only make it worse. So she waited, patient and anxious, the weight of her concern visible in her eyes. Seated beside Melinda on the edge of the same chair, Fiona Logan looked from one to the other, her expression somewhere between worry and frustration. She had shed her usual rough edged exterior tonight, dressed in a casual tank top and dark jeans, though her posture, arms crossed loosely over her stomach, one leg bouncing faintly, betrayed her own unease. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and though her face was calm, her eyes carried a restless flicker, mirroring Clyde’s agitation in a more contained form. Fiona wasn’t good at sitting still when things felt wrong. She could feel the energy radiating off Clyde from where she sat, the anger he was trying to contain, the storm building just beneath the surface, and it unsettled her.
The room, beautiful as it was, seemed to absorb the silence like a sponge. The muted sounds of the ocean outside were distant, muffled by the thick glass windows that framed the city view. The faint smell of sandalwood from the fireplace lingered in the air, mixing with the crisp scent of Melinda’s perfume and the faint tang of leather from the furniture. The Assassin shifted suddenly, leaning back against the sofa, his movements taut and deliberate. His chest rose and fell sharply, his jaw tightening again as his fingers dragged through his hair. Melinda’s eyes followed the motion closely, reading him like only she could, every small sign, every twitch of restraint. She exchanged a brief glance with Fiona, a silent acknowledgment that whatever was brewing inside Clyde wasn’t just a fleeting bad mood. There was something deeper eating at him. The digital clock on the glass coffee table ticked softly, its red numbers glowing against the dark. Fiona exhaled slowly through her nose, uncrossing her arms as if preparing herself to intervene. She leaned forward slightly, elbows on her knees, mirroring Clyde’s posture in a way that seemed almost instinctive; an unspoken signal of understanding, of shared ground. Her gaze softened for a brief moment, though her expression remained guarded.
Melinda’s hand rested against her thigh, fingers tapping absently against the fabric of her skirt. She wanted to speak, every fiber of her wanted to, but she knew the risk of saying the wrong thing when emotions ran this deep. The silence between them was fragile, brittle as glass. The fire crackled softly in the background, its glow reflecting off the polished surfaces and catching in Clyde’s dark eyes, giving them a flicker of restless light. Fiona finally glanced at Melinda again, and this time there was no mistaking the concern etched across both their faces. Outside, a soft rumble of thunder rolled somewhere in the distance over the water, low and lingering. The lights from the city skyline shimmered faintly across the glass wall behind them, the reflections dancing across the marble floor.
“Clyde, babe, you need to calm down.” Melinda says quietly, carefully, hoping not to trigger her future husband who she knows is upset right now.
“I was foolish!” He exclaims loudly. “I was foolish and careless!”
“No, you weren’t.” Melinda shakes her head. “Joey was your friend, it was natural for you to trust him.”
“Trust no one!” He exclaims angrily. “That’s what I learned on the streets and it the rule I should have stuck with!” He insists. “But I trusted him. I allowed myself to believe that he would not betray me.” The Assassin shakes his head. “Now, thanks to my so-called friend, my sister is going to return to the United States…if she isn’t here already…”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Of course I did something wrong.” Sutter shakes his head. “I was wrong in the sense that I should have seen this coming. In fact, I DID see this coming!”
“What do you mean?” Melinda asks.
“I spoke to my sister!” He exclaims. “She was the first person I accused when I learned of my Charlotte apartment being ransacked. I accused her of being behind it, that this was some plot of hers. Yet somehow Lilith managed to convince me to look elsewhere. I was dumb enough to fall for her ploy, just I was dumb enough to trust Joey.”
“It’s ok, Clyde,” Melinda says “it will all work out in the end, trust me.”
“NO!”
Sutter shouts angrily. He stands up and starts pacing the floor like a caged lion. This rage, this shouting isn’t new to Melinda. She has heard it before but it has been a long time since she has seen this rage fueled side of The Assassin. It has been years since she has seen this side of him and it frightens her a little. The Assassin can tell that, in his rage, he has upset his beloved, he has scared the woman he cares for the most. He stops his pacing and turns to face Melinda. He shakes his head with a look of sorrow on his face.
“I’m sorry, my love.” He begins quietly. “I did not mean to frighten you. I assure you that I am not angry with you, I am angry with myself.”
“Sit down.” Melinda says commandingly, patting the seat next to her. Clyde sighs and nods his head. He sits down next to Melinda. She gazes lovingly into his eyes. “Everything will be fine.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because we have each other.” Melinda insists. “Besides, even if and when Lilith makes her return to the United States, the authorities will be looking at her even closer now. Just because she is temporarily off the hook for the murder charge doesn’t mean the dark cloud of suspicion goes away. The feds know that she is involved in organized crime. They will be targeting her, looking for any excuse to arrest her.”
“Yeah, didn’t Al Capone get arrested for tax evasion?” Fiona chimes in. Melinda nods her head.
“Exactly. They’ll find a reason to take down your sister.” Melinda insists. “Just trust the system.”
“Perhaps…” his voice trails off as he thinks it over, but then he shakes his head “...but justice was not done.”
“But Clyde…”
“No. Justice was not done. If the system worked then she would be in prison.” He points at Melinda. “She is responsible for Archie’s death, your former boyfriend. That shooting nearly killed you too. My sister should be in prison for this hired hit.”
“Y’know, big guy, I hate to be the one to say this seeing as I once poo-poo’d the notion, but wasn’t it YOU who suggested that I should compartmentalize?” Fiona pipes in. Clyde sighs and nods his head.
“Yes, I did say that, but…”
“Nuh-uh, big guy, if that advice is good for me, it’s good for you too. Compartmentalize. Do not let this crap become your obsession. Let the authorities deal with your prick of a sister. Don’t you and Mels here have other things to concern yourself with?”
“She’s right!” Melinda exclaims, taking this opportunity to try and hopefully change the subject and get her man’s mind off of his psychotic sister’s imminent return. “Under Attack is basically a week away. It is the finals of the Trios Tournament, Clyde. You. Me. Belmont. We are one win away from having so much damn power in SCW. Ultimate power.”
“Quit quoting Palpatine.” Fiona retorts with a snarky grin. Melinda rolls her eyes.
“If we win, we have not one but TWO Trios Contracts between the two of us. We can OWN SCW with that kind of power. But we have to get past James Evans, The Monster Machine, and Glimmer to do it.” She pats Sutter on the back. “We need you to be focused, Clyde. I need you.” She takes him by his hand and clasps it tightly. They lock eyes. Sutter can sense it, she is pleading with him to come down off of this ledge he is seemingly on.
It is at that moment that the reality of the situation begins to sink in. Rage and hatred drove Melinda Braddock away from him once. The Assassin fought long and hard to control that rage, to end that hatred, and ultimately he won Melinda back into his loving arms. Now, thanks to Lilith Sutter and her plotting and scheming, he has nearly lost control. His rage boiled over and that hatred, he can feel it again. The Assassin knows that by allowing himself to hate, that allowing himself to feel this rage towards his sister, that he is merely playing into Lilith’s hand. Lilith Sutter wants to tear them apart. The Assassin cannot and will not let that happen. Ultimately Fiona is right, he does need to take his own advice and compartmentalize.
“Yes, you are correct…” he nods his head “...and you can rest assured that you and Mr. Belmont can count on me. We will be victorious at Under Attack. My eyes are on the prize.”
“Good.” Melinda nods her head. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
“And you are correct as well, Fiona.” Clyde turns his attention to Melinda’s adopted sister and tag team partner, who instantly arches her brow out of curiosity.
“Huh? What’d I say?”
“I do need to take my own advice and compartmentalize.” He answers. “Yes, Under Attack is important. Trios is important. But taking care of this situation with my sister is also important. It needs to be taken care of.”
“Agreed. Just not now.” Melinda says.
“Not now…but I will take care of this after Under Attack.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?” That note of concern once again enters Melinda’s voice. She knows that her man has an idea, she just isn’t sure what it is.
“My sister, she…” he sighs “...she invited me to see her, to visit with her, when she returns to America. I may take her up on that offer.”
“Wait, what?!” Melinda exclaims.
“Uh, not sure that’s a good idea, big guy.” Fiona says, shaking her head.
“What choice do I have?” Clyde asks. “She will continue to harass me, to harass us. This needs to be taken care of. I need to convince her that there is nothing she can say or do to ever get me to join her.”
“Fine,” Melinda sighs and shakes her head “but I don’t have to like it.”
“No, you don’t, but dealing with my sister is a necessary evil.” Sutter smiles warmly at Melinda. “Do not worry about that just yet, my beloved. We have one other minor inconvenience to take care of first.”
“Yeah, Trios.” Fiona points.
“That is NOT a minor inconvenience.” Melinda states boldly. “We need to win that.”
“Indeed, and we shall.” Sutter remarks calmly, stoically. “But we do have another minor issue to handle. You and I should return to Charlotte and finally clean up the mess Joey left behind.”
“Do we have to?” Melinda whines. Sutter nods his head.
“Eventually yes.” He smirks. “It, like my sister, is a necessary evil.”
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October 26th, 2025
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
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The night air outside was still and warm, the only sounds came from the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft crackle from the modern fireplace inset into a white marble wall. The living room, open and expansive, was bathed in a low golden glow from recessed lights and the flicker of the flames. Expensive without being gaudy, every surface spoke of careful taste: cream-colored leather furniture, polished floors, sleek glass accents, and framed photographs of victories, travels, and memories lining the walls. Yet, despite its beauty, the air inside felt heavy. Something in the atmosphere had shifted, something subtle but unmistakably tense. Clyde Sutter sat forward on the edge of the long sectional sofa, his elbows on his knees, his large hands clasped tightly together. His knuckles were pale, strained from the pressure, and a deep crease had formed across his brow. The muscles in his jaw flexed rhythmically, betraying the emotion he was struggling to contain. He was dressed very simply in just a simple black T-shirt and dark jeans, but somehow that only made him seem more imposing, more raw. His long black hair hung loose, brushing against his neck, slightly disheveled from his restless movements. He stared at the floor as though it held answers he couldn’t find, his breathing shallow but deliberate. The usual calm, measured presence that defined him was gone; in its place was something colder, sharper; anger mixed with frustration, and beneath it, something deeper still. Hurt.
Across from him, on a cream leather chair angled toward the sofa, Melinda Braddock watched him carefully. Her posture was straight but not rigid, her body leaning slightly forward as if ready to move if he suddenly needed her. The soft, golden light caught the shimmer of her blonde hair as it fell loosely over her shoulders, and her eyes, usually so poised and confident, now carried a flicker of unease. She wore a simple yet elegant outfit, a fitted white blouse tucked into a knee length black skirt, the kind of effortless ensemble that spoke to her natural sense of composure. But tonight, her expression betrayed that calm. Her brow furrowed faintly as she studied Clyde, her lips parting slightly as if to speak before she stopped herself. Every instinct in her wanted to fix what was wrong, to reach out and ground him, but she knew him well enough to know that forcing calm upon him would only make it worse. So she waited, patient and anxious, the weight of her concern visible in her eyes. Seated beside Melinda on the edge of the same chair, Fiona Logan looked from one to the other, her expression somewhere between worry and frustration. She had shed her usual rough edged exterior tonight, dressed in a casual tank top and dark jeans, though her posture, arms crossed loosely over her stomach, one leg bouncing faintly, betrayed her own unease. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and though her face was calm, her eyes carried a restless flicker, mirroring Clyde’s agitation in a more contained form. Fiona wasn’t good at sitting still when things felt wrong. She could feel the energy radiating off Clyde from where she sat, the anger he was trying to contain, the storm building just beneath the surface, and it unsettled her.
The room, beautiful as it was, seemed to absorb the silence like a sponge. The muted sounds of the ocean outside were distant, muffled by the thick glass windows that framed the city view. The faint smell of sandalwood from the fireplace lingered in the air, mixing with the crisp scent of Melinda’s perfume and the faint tang of leather from the furniture. The Assassin shifted suddenly, leaning back against the sofa, his movements taut and deliberate. His chest rose and fell sharply, his jaw tightening again as his fingers dragged through his hair. Melinda’s eyes followed the motion closely, reading him like only she could, every small sign, every twitch of restraint. She exchanged a brief glance with Fiona, a silent acknowledgment that whatever was brewing inside Clyde wasn’t just a fleeting bad mood. There was something deeper eating at him. The digital clock on the glass coffee table ticked softly, its red numbers glowing against the dark. Fiona exhaled slowly through her nose, uncrossing her arms as if preparing herself to intervene. She leaned forward slightly, elbows on her knees, mirroring Clyde’s posture in a way that seemed almost instinctive; an unspoken signal of understanding, of shared ground. Her gaze softened for a brief moment, though her expression remained guarded.
Melinda’s hand rested against her thigh, fingers tapping absently against the fabric of her skirt. She wanted to speak, every fiber of her wanted to, but she knew the risk of saying the wrong thing when emotions ran this deep. The silence between them was fragile, brittle as glass. The fire crackled softly in the background, its glow reflecting off the polished surfaces and catching in Clyde’s dark eyes, giving them a flicker of restless light. Fiona finally glanced at Melinda again, and this time there was no mistaking the concern etched across both their faces. Outside, a soft rumble of thunder rolled somewhere in the distance over the water, low and lingering. The lights from the city skyline shimmered faintly across the glass wall behind them, the reflections dancing across the marble floor.
“Clyde, babe, you need to calm down.” Melinda says quietly, carefully, hoping not to trigger her future husband who she knows is upset right now.
“I was foolish!” He exclaims loudly. “I was foolish and careless!”
“No, you weren’t.” Melinda shakes her head. “Joey was your friend, it was natural for you to trust him.”
“Trust no one!” He exclaims angrily. “That’s what I learned on the streets and it the rule I should have stuck with!” He insists. “But I trusted him. I allowed myself to believe that he would not betray me.” The Assassin shakes his head. “Now, thanks to my so-called friend, my sister is going to return to the United States…if she isn’t here already…”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Of course I did something wrong.” Sutter shakes his head. “I was wrong in the sense that I should have seen this coming. In fact, I DID see this coming!”
“What do you mean?” Melinda asks.
“I spoke to my sister!” He exclaims. “She was the first person I accused when I learned of my Charlotte apartment being ransacked. I accused her of being behind it, that this was some plot of hers. Yet somehow Lilith managed to convince me to look elsewhere. I was dumb enough to fall for her ploy, just I was dumb enough to trust Joey.”
“It’s ok, Clyde,” Melinda says “it will all work out in the end, trust me.”
“NO!”
Sutter shouts angrily. He stands up and starts pacing the floor like a caged lion. This rage, this shouting isn’t new to Melinda. She has heard it before but it has been a long time since she has seen this rage fueled side of The Assassin. It has been years since she has seen this side of him and it frightens her a little. The Assassin can tell that, in his rage, he has upset his beloved, he has scared the woman he cares for the most. He stops his pacing and turns to face Melinda. He shakes his head with a look of sorrow on his face.
“I’m sorry, my love.” He begins quietly. “I did not mean to frighten you. I assure you that I am not angry with you, I am angry with myself.”
“Sit down.” Melinda says commandingly, patting the seat next to her. Clyde sighs and nods his head. He sits down next to Melinda. She gazes lovingly into his eyes. “Everything will be fine.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because we have each other.” Melinda insists. “Besides, even if and when Lilith makes her return to the United States, the authorities will be looking at her even closer now. Just because she is temporarily off the hook for the murder charge doesn’t mean the dark cloud of suspicion goes away. The feds know that she is involved in organized crime. They will be targeting her, looking for any excuse to arrest her.”
“Yeah, didn’t Al Capone get arrested for tax evasion?” Fiona chimes in. Melinda nods her head.
“Exactly. They’ll find a reason to take down your sister.” Melinda insists. “Just trust the system.”
“Perhaps…” his voice trails off as he thinks it over, but then he shakes his head “...but justice was not done.”
“But Clyde…”
“No. Justice was not done. If the system worked then she would be in prison.” He points at Melinda. “She is responsible for Archie’s death, your former boyfriend. That shooting nearly killed you too. My sister should be in prison for this hired hit.”
“Y’know, big guy, I hate to be the one to say this seeing as I once poo-poo’d the notion, but wasn’t it YOU who suggested that I should compartmentalize?” Fiona pipes in. Clyde sighs and nods his head.
“Yes, I did say that, but…”
“Nuh-uh, big guy, if that advice is good for me, it’s good for you too. Compartmentalize. Do not let this crap become your obsession. Let the authorities deal with your prick of a sister. Don’t you and Mels here have other things to concern yourself with?”
“She’s right!” Melinda exclaims, taking this opportunity to try and hopefully change the subject and get her man’s mind off of his psychotic sister’s imminent return. “Under Attack is basically a week away. It is the finals of the Trios Tournament, Clyde. You. Me. Belmont. We are one win away from having so much damn power in SCW. Ultimate power.”
“Quit quoting Palpatine.” Fiona retorts with a snarky grin. Melinda rolls her eyes.
“If we win, we have not one but TWO Trios Contracts between the two of us. We can OWN SCW with that kind of power. But we have to get past James Evans, The Monster Machine, and Glimmer to do it.” She pats Sutter on the back. “We need you to be focused, Clyde. I need you.” She takes him by his hand and clasps it tightly. They lock eyes. Sutter can sense it, she is pleading with him to come down off of this ledge he is seemingly on.
It is at that moment that the reality of the situation begins to sink in. Rage and hatred drove Melinda Braddock away from him once. The Assassin fought long and hard to control that rage, to end that hatred, and ultimately he won Melinda back into his loving arms. Now, thanks to Lilith Sutter and her plotting and scheming, he has nearly lost control. His rage boiled over and that hatred, he can feel it again. The Assassin knows that by allowing himself to hate, that allowing himself to feel this rage towards his sister, that he is merely playing into Lilith’s hand. Lilith Sutter wants to tear them apart. The Assassin cannot and will not let that happen. Ultimately Fiona is right, he does need to take his own advice and compartmentalize.
“Yes, you are correct…” he nods his head “...and you can rest assured that you and Mr. Belmont can count on me. We will be victorious at Under Attack. My eyes are on the prize.”
“Good.” Melinda nods her head. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
“And you are correct as well, Fiona.” Clyde turns his attention to Melinda’s adopted sister and tag team partner, who instantly arches her brow out of curiosity.
“Huh? What’d I say?”
“I do need to take my own advice and compartmentalize.” He answers. “Yes, Under Attack is important. Trios is important. But taking care of this situation with my sister is also important. It needs to be taken care of.”
“Agreed. Just not now.” Melinda says.
“Not now…but I will take care of this after Under Attack.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?” That note of concern once again enters Melinda’s voice. She knows that her man has an idea, she just isn’t sure what it is.
“My sister, she…” he sighs “...she invited me to see her, to visit with her, when she returns to America. I may take her up on that offer.”
“Wait, what?!” Melinda exclaims.
“Uh, not sure that’s a good idea, big guy.” Fiona says, shaking her head.
“What choice do I have?” Clyde asks. “She will continue to harass me, to harass us. This needs to be taken care of. I need to convince her that there is nothing she can say or do to ever get me to join her.”
“Fine,” Melinda sighs and shakes her head “but I don’t have to like it.”
“No, you don’t, but dealing with my sister is a necessary evil.” Sutter smiles warmly at Melinda. “Do not worry about that just yet, my beloved. We have one other minor inconvenience to take care of first.”
“Yeah, Trios.” Fiona points.
“That is NOT a minor inconvenience.” Melinda states boldly. “We need to win that.”
“Indeed, and we shall.” Sutter remarks calmly, stoically. “But we do have another minor issue to handle. You and I should return to Charlotte and finally clean up the mess Joey left behind.”
“Do we have to?” Melinda whines. Sutter nods his head.
“Eventually yes.” He smirks. “It, like my sister, is a necessary evil.”
![[Image: XJiTNy0.png]](https://i.imgur.com/XJiTNy0.png)
Career Achievements
MWE Television Champion 2x
MWE Riot Champion 1x
GCW World Tag Team Champion 1x
SCW Television Champion 1x
MWA World Tag Team Champion 2x