Chapter 7 - The Challenger
Sofia Markovic called me personally.
I almost didn’t answer.
“Imani.”
Her English carried only a slight accent.
“Sofia.”
“I had nothing to do with this.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know.”
“No.”
I smiled despite myself.
“I believe you.”
She exhaled.
“My promoter wanted to issue statement blaming your team.”
“Did they?”
“I told them if they did, I would say publicly I wanted the fight to happen on time.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“Because if I beat you, I want you healthy.”
Competitors understood something businessmen often didn’t.
A win only matters if the opponent gets to arrive honestly.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
She laughed.
“I still plan to hurt your feelings for twelve rounds.”
I laughed.
“Try.”
Then she became serious.
“Someone contacted my camp last month.”
My attention sharpened.
“Who?”
“A consultant.”
“Name?”
“Caleb Ross.”
Of course.
“What did he want?”
“He asked whether my promoter would support postponement if your medical clearance became controversial.”
“What did they say?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I thought it was negotiation.”
Fair.
She continued.
“He said delay could increase pay-per-view interest.”
Everything became content to these people.
Even sabotage.
Sofia’s camp provided emails.
Ross had been preparing the market before the flight.
If I snapped, he could tell networks:
Delay makes event bigger.
Control rights trigger.
Northstar gains leverage.
Then eventually reschedule under terms more profitable to them.
My humiliation was not the goal.
It was a financial mechanism.
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That realization removed some of the personal rage.
Then added a colder kind.
