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Chapter 6– The Familiar Stranger

Author: Gwennie Love
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-30 09:15:40

Ryan wrapped up the last of his presentation with practiced ease. “So, yeah. That’s where I’m at. Wrestling helped me figure out what I wanna be, instead of just what I’m mad at.”

Silence followed—brief but thick.

Johnny Castile leaned back in the visitor chair, arms folded, his sharp gaze steady on Ryan. Then, with a nod, he finally said, “You’re honest. That counts. Discipline matters. And not letting anger run you? That’s real power.”

Ryan grinned, trying not to show how proud he was. “Thanks, man. Appreciate that.”

Johnny stood, smoothing the sleeves of his tailored suit. The silver watch on his wrist caught the overhead lights, a quiet flash of wealth and time. “You’ve got a good coach.”

Ryan nodded, jerking his thumb toward Minnie. “She’s tough. Doesn’t let me slack.”

Johnny turned to her again, something unreadable flickering across his face. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I can see that.”

Minnie offered a calm smile. “We appreciate your time. There’s more on our expansion plan in the file I sent this morning. Outreach programs, equipment upgrades, transportation to regional tournaments.”

“I’ll take a look,” he said. “Have my team run through the numbers. But I like what I’ve seen so far.”

He moved toward the door, Minnie and Ryan following behind. His stride was confident—like he’d walked into plenty of rooms like this one and left them changed.

As they stepped into the hallway, Johnny paused again, glancing back at Minnie. His brow furrowed. “You sure we haven’t met?”

Minnie kept her expression easy. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember.”

He laughed under his breath. “I don’t know. You’ve got one of those faces. Familiar, you know?”

She didn’t reply, just met his eyes, steady.

They walked down the corridor together. Johnny moved like a man used to being looked at. He’d grown into his legacy—into his body, his money, his name. Broad shoulders, precise jawline, that clean fade and beard that made him look too good for LinkedIn but somehow still belonged on Forbes.

But to Minnie, he wasn’t just headlines and camera lights.

He was Johnny Castile.

The boy who once captained the wrestling team at Carson Heights High, swaggered through halls like he owned the future, and had a half-smile that made half the girls melt. He’d been all promise then—restless energy wrapped in a hoodie and varsity jacket, already carrying the weight of his father’s business and a legacy he hadn’t even started yet.

From there, he’d gone on to win Olympic gold. She’d watched the match from her dorm, alone, eating vending machine chips and pretending she didn’t care. Then came WWE—arena lights, hype promos, and championship belts. He’d made a name for himself in the ring, a whole persona that roared through crowds.

Then, the fall—an injury. Torn ACL. Career-ending.

But Johnny Castile didn’t stay down. He pivoted. Took over the family cyber security company. Grew it into a multi-billion-dollar empire. Private jets. Magazine covers. Buzzwords like strategic integration and network fortification.

He was a household name now. Not just the bruiser in the ring—but the man behind a fortress of encrypted systems and government contracts.

She knew it all.

And he didn’t recognize her at all.

Ryan turned left down the hallway toward the lounge. “I’m gonna hit the weights. Catch you later, Coach.”

“Don’t forget your hydration,” Minnie called.

He gave her a salute and disappeared.

Johnny stayed beside her as they continued down the hallway toward the exit. His hands tucked in his pockets now, casually. But his eyes—those sharp, dark eyes—kept sneaking glances her way.

“You really smell like cocoa butter,” he said, low and amused.

Minnie glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Was that a compliment or a callout?”

He grinned. “Definitely a compliment. I used to love that smell…back in the day. It’s a throwback. Comforting.”

She offered a quiet hum. “Some things stick.”

He looked at her again. Like he was trying to place a song he couldn’t quite remember the lyrics to.

“Did you ever come to any of my matches?” he asked suddenly. “Back in the Olympic days? Or WWE?”

“No,” Minnie said, keeping her tone neutral. “But I saw the coverage. You were… everywhere.”

“I was,” he said, not bragging—just stating a fact. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“And now you’re building firewalls and global security solutions.”

He laughed. “Yeah. Not quite as flashy, but still a fight.”

She nodded. “You pivoted well.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You know a lot about me.”

“You’re kind of hard to avoid. Press loves a redemption arc.”

Johnny’s smile returned, crooked and familiar. “Fair enough.”

They reached the front lobby. The buzz of the building filtered in—kids laughing down the hallway, staff shuffling between offices, the occasional thud of a dropped backpack.

He looked around again, then back at her.

“I like what you’re doing here,” he said. “It matters.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. “We think so too.”

He paused, one hand already on the door handle. “Seriously though… I swear I’ve seen you before.”

Minnie smiled. “Maybe in another life.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, like trying to reach through fog, then gave a slow nod.

“Well. Thanks for the tour, Ms. Rivera.”

“Take care, Mr. Castile.”

He stepped out into the California sun, the door swinging closed behind him with a soft click.

Minnie stood still for a long moment, the smell of cocoa butter and espresso lingering around her.

She’d watched him rise. She’d cheered in silence, cried in private, clapped for the man who had once barely noticed her.

And now?

He didn’t remember her at all.

But maybe… maybe he would.

Eventually.

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