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Triple H, still visibly stunned, slowly began to recover from the shock. He looked at Vince, then at Stephanie, then back at Sandro. There was a pause. And then he nodded. "It's big," Hunter admitted. "But… he's not wrong. It has potential. If it's done right, it could reshape a lot. We'd just have to be careful."
Stephanie leaned in as well. "It's bold. But bold is what we need. The WWE audience has evolved, Dad. They want risks, and they want stories with depth and consequences. This idea? It has that. It shows that WWE is willing to evolve. That we're not afraid to experiment."
Vince remained silent, arms folded across his chest. The room held its breath.
Finally, he raised one hand slightly.
"Give me a day," he said. "I need to look into this first. I need information. I'll give you my decision tomorrow, and that will be the final decision. Understand? No pestering me. No second guesses. If I say yes or no, it stays that way."
Sandro nodded. "Of course, sir. I understand fully. That's my last request."
He leaned back, giving the three of them space to speak now.
"Is there anything you'd like to ask of me? Or any ideas for me, maybe?"
Stephanie smiled. "Honestly, just be at your best this Saturday. The debut is everything. We'll build from there. Don't worry about adjusting your character or changing your persona, we want you to stick with what made you such a hot commodity to begin with."
Triple H chimed in, "And your ring name? It stays. We're not touching it."
Sandro nodded, grateful for that.
Stephanie continued, "As for what brand you'll be on… we'll see after your debut. Right, Dad?"
Vince looked at his daughter and gave a single, short nod.
Sandro exhaled quietly, his chest rising and falling with controlled relief. The path ahead wasn't guaranteed. But it was open. And that was more than most could ask for in this business.
He rose from his seat, and the three executives followed. Handshakes were exchanged again, firm and meaningful.
Whatever happened next, Sandro knew one thing that is that he was walking into WWE on his own terms.
After Sandro left the conference room, the door clicked softly behind him. Silence hung in the air for a long moment before Stephanie turned her eyes toward her father, who had already taken his seat again, the leather creaking under his weight.
Stephanie broke the silence. "So… after meeting Sandro for the second time and now discussing official business with him, unlike the first time at that business party, what do you think of him now, Dad?"
Triple H leaned against the edge of the table, arms folded, watching Vince intently as well.
Vince stayed quiet for a moment. His face was unreadable, eyes focused somewhere in the distance, mind clearly ticking.
He stared at the far wall before then he finally said, "He's brave. And he's a risk taker. That much is obvious. The way he speaks, it's confident, sure, maybe even cocky at times. But it's not baseless. He says things even knowing I won't like them. That's something I respect. He reminds me a lot of Jack Zhang… in the business sense. Calculated, gutsy, and firm."
Stephanie and Triple H exchanged a knowing glance before nodding.
"I agree," Stephanie added. "But I think there's a difference between Sandro and his father. Sandro's a lot more… flexible. Easier to talk to. More willing to bend if it serves the greater good. And most importantly, he's not entitled like you'd expect from someone born into wealth. He gets the social cues, the unwritten rules. His IQ and EQ, they're balanced. And rare."
Vince looked at his daughter, considering her words, then gave a small, approving nod. "You're not wrong," he said simply.
Meanwhile, Sandro stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind him. He let out a long breath he hadn't even realized he was holding.
Now he understood firsthand why Vince McMahon was known as the iron fisted controller of WWE. The intensity in that room was palpable.
There was a certain aura about Vince McMahon, ironclad, dominant, and coldly analytical. That presence had overwhelmed him, even if just for a second.
It was the first time he truly felt the heat of being inside Vince's orbit. And still… as intense as Vince was, Sandro couldn't help but compare him to his own father, Jack Zhang. Vince was fierce, but Jack? Jack was terrifying in a way that bent rooms to his will.
As Sandro thought about that, he stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor.
Chuckling softly to himself, Sandro shook off the pressure as the elevator descended.
"Breakfast," he muttered. "Time to eat."
The elevator finally dinged, and just as the elevator doors slid open and he stepped out into the grand lobby of WWE Headquarters, he stopped in his tracks.
Standing by the main entrance of the lobby, entering through the tall glass doors, was none other than Stone Cold Steve Austin.
Sandro stopped in his tracks. Time seemed to stretch. His heart pounded.
His breath caught in his throat. For a brief moment, he was paralyzed. The rattlesnake himself, his childhood hero in both in this life… and the last, he was right there in front of him, in the flesh.
Austin wore a leather jacket over a black tee, jeans, and his unmistakable swagger. He glanced toward the elevators, catching sight of Sandro, young, sharply dressed in a suit, and gold aviators perched on his nose, frozen like a deer in headlights.
He squinted at Sandro for a moment… and then recognition hit.
"Well I'll be damned," he said, striding forward. His Texas drawl was instantly familiar. "You Sandro Zhang, ain't ya?"
The voice snapped Sandro out of his daze. He blinked, then grinned and stepped forward quickly to shake the extended hand.
"Yes, sir, I am. I'm honestly shocked you even know who I am."
Austin chuckled as he shook Sandro's hand firmly. "I may be retired, kid, but wrestling's in my blood. You think I ain't been watching what's going on? FCW and TNA, becoming the double heavyweight champ, shaking up the industry like a damn hurricane. Hard not to notice. That ain't small potatoes. You've made waves, kid."
Sandro chuckled, trying to maintain his composure but feeling giddy on the inside. "That means a lot coming from you. Really. But honestly, I just got lucky. Right time, right place."
"Nah," Austin said, waving a finger. "Luck plays a part, sure. But when it lines up with talent and timing? That's called destiny, son. Don't be too humble, it doesn't suit ya."
They shared a laugh, and for a second, it was like Sandro had stepped into a dream.
"So," Austin said, lowering his voice slightly. "If you're here, I guess that means you're coming up to WWE, huh?"
Sandro chuckled softly. "Well, I can't officially confirm or deny anything."
"Heh. Don't worry," Austin said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Your secret's safe with me. I ain't about to be the guy spoiling surprises. What happens in Stamford stays in Stamford, right?"
"Exactly," Sandro replied with a grin. "And I won't ask what you're doing here either. Let's keep the mystery alive."
Austin laughed. "Fair enough."
They shook hands again, the kind of handshake that had weight and meaning behind it.
Before Austin could walk away, Sandro hesitated.
"Uh, Mr. Austin, if it's not too much… would you mind if I got your number?"
Austin paused, then gave a shrug. "Ah hell, why not. Half the business already has it. What's one more hotshot gonna hurt?"
They exchanged numbers, then took a quick picture together with Sandro's phone.
Not long after, Sandro sent the photo to his private WhatsApp group chat labeled 'My Girls ❤️' with his three girlfriends April, Nikki, and Alexa.
April, Nikki, and Alexa were quick to flood the chat with messages.
April: "YOU MET STONE COLD?! 😱🔥 You're so lucky!"
Alexa: "How is your life real? 😭 I need to touch you to see if you're dreaming."
Nikki: "That's so awesome! What did he say to you?? Also, how did the meeting go??"
Sandro typed back quickly.
Sandro: "Meeting went well. Fingers crossed I get the green light tomorrow. And yeah, Stone Cold was super cool. We traded numbers."
Then he added.
Sandro: "By the way… I got 6 tickets for the Royal Rumble this Saturday. VIP box. You girls, me, and my parents. We're going all out. You all in?"
The responses came back in a flood.
April: "YES. DUH. OF COURSE."
Alexa: "Already packing. 👗✨"
Nikki: "I'm actually on the pre show in a 10 diva tag, but I wanna watch the Rumble from VIP. Count me in. 😎"
Sandro chuckled as he watched the chaos unfold in the chat. This Saturday… was going to be unforgettable.
The days passed swiftly.
Now, it was Saturday morning. Sandro stood in the massive presidential suite of a five star hotel in downtown Atlanta. The sun poured in through tall windows, casting golden light over the city skyline.
He sat on the couch, sipping coffee in a loose white tee and joggers, while April scrolled through her phone on the bed. Nikki was doing light stretches near the windows, and Alexa was checking her makeup in the mirror.
The calm before the storm.
At that moment, Sandro's phone buzzed. A text from Stephanie.
Stephanie McMahon: "Make sure to be at the Phillips Arena by early afternoon. Don't let anyone see you, not even production. Come disguised, like a new agent or staffer. Use the back entrance. Disguise yourself as an agent or producer. Be lowkey. We want the pop to be nuclear. And don't forget my father's condition in exchange for the request you made."
Sandro stared at the message for a beat, nodded to himself, and then tapped out a reply.
Sandro: "Understood. I'm ready. Let's make this one for the history books."
This was it.
Time to prove he belonged. Not just as a star from another company, but as a future cornerstone of the WWE.
The Royal Rumble awaited.
Then time slowly passed by and it was early afternoon. The energy inside the presidential suite had shifted. The sun was higher now, casting a sharper gold across the skyline of downtown Atlanta. Sandro sat on the edge of the bed, slipping on a pair of socks while the girls finished packing the essentials they'd need for the evening.
April looked over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. "Hey, shouldn't we be heading out together soon so that we can enter into the arena early?"
Sandro paused, pulling his phone from his pocket and faking a new message buzz. He read the blank screen and then looked up. "Actually, Stephanie just texted me. Vince wants me to be at the backstage today," he said, improvising smoothly. "He wants me to observe how the backstage operates during show prep. Just for a few hours. After that, I'll meet you all in the VIP suite before the main show starts."
Alexa looked up from her compact. "Backstage ops?"
"Yup," Sandro nodded. "He wants me to get a feel for the production environment and learn the internal rhythm. Guess it's part of the whole onboarding process."
April tilted her head but smiled. "That actually makes sense. You're about to be on the biggest wrestling company in the world. Getting the full picture helps."
Nikki, who had just pulled on her athletic zip up hoodie, chimed in. "I'm actually heading out around the same time for my pre show prep. You wanna just go with me?"
".That'd actually work perfectly," Sandro said. "Though, I've gotta go in disguise."
"Disguise?" Alexa's eyes lit up.
"Yeah," Sandro nodded. "Stephanie, Triple H, and Vince don't want anyone in WWE knowing I'm coming and debuting until it actually happens. I've got to go in pretending I'm a new rookie agent assigned to Nikki. That way, no one asks questions."
All three girls exchanged a look. Nikki grinned first.
"Oh, you're in luck," she said, clapping her hands once. "I've worked with more agents than I can count. I know exactly how to make you look like one."
April smirked. "You're about to get a glow down, Mr. Zhang."
Alexa ran to her bag and pulled out a makeup kit. "Let's do this."
Sandro chuckled. "I surrender myself to the glam squad."
They went to work. Nikki coached him on posture and tone, helping him emulate the cool professionalism of an agent.
April messed up his hair just enough to kill the polished look, and Alexa used light makeup to dull down the sharpness of his face and darken his skin tone slightly, giving him a faint five o'clock shadow and undereye puff. They even gave him a plain grey windbreaker, dark jeans, and a cap with a headset clipped around his neck.
When he stood up and looked in the mirror, even he had to blink twice.
"Holy shit," Sandro muttered. "I look like I'm about to cue someone for pyro."
"Exactly," Nikki said proudly. "You're invisible. That's the power of crew status."
April handed him a clipboard. "Carry this. You'll look like you're scouting."
They headed out together. Nikki and Sandro took the same cab but entered the Phillips Arena separately through the back entrance. Nikki waved to various crew members and talent while Sandro hung a few steps behind her, silent, nodding only when acknowledged. His disguise held.
Eventually, they split ways. Nikki went to the women's locker room, and Sandro made his way toward Stephanie's makeshift office backstage. He knocked.
"Come in," Stephanie's voice called. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Stephanie looked up, confused for a moment.
"I'm sorry, who—?"
"It's me," Sandro said with a quiet grin.
Her brows raised, and then she chuckled. "You've gotta be kidding me. That's you?"
He pulled off the hat briefly, just to prove it, then slid it back on.
"You're good," Stephanie admitted. "Like, really good. No one will suspect a thing. Hunter and I will help make sure your cover stays solid."
Sandro nodded. "Thank you."
From there, the afternoon blurred into a mix of quiet movement and controlled anticipation. He remained hidden in corners, observing the show's prep like a fly on the wall.
Stephanie had given him a back corner of the room to store his ring gear underneath his oversized windbreaker. He wore his entrance coat like it was a rolled up staff jacket.
As the show began, Sandro slipped away from the backstage area and up to the VIP suite. Inside were April, Alexa, his father Jack, and his mother Taylor. Nikki had finished her pre show match and joined them shortly after.
"Sandro!" his mother exclaimed with surprise. "You look exhausted. Did they make you work?"
"Nothing crazy," he replied, using the same story as before. "Just observing, seeing how things run. Vince wants me to understand the gears behind the curtain."
His father gave a curt nod. "Smart move on their part."
The group settled into their luxury seats. The Royal Rumble was already underway.
The first matches unfolded similar to the version Sandro remembered from his previous life, like Christian's ECW title defense, The Miz retaining his US title, Mickie James defeating Michelle McCool for the women title, and Undertaker retaining the World Heavyweight Title against Rey Mysterio.
Then, it was time for the main event.
The Royal Rumble.
Sandro kept one eye on the monitor and one eye on the internal countdown in his head. When the 13th entrant had run down the ramp and joined the chaos in the ring, Sandro leaned toward his family and girlfriends. "Gotta hit the restroom real quick," he whispered.
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: FCW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, & 1x TNA X Division Champion