Disclaimer: I don't own any of the WWE characters....

Summary: Merci Devereaux carried a painful memory from her childhood, and the world was going to feel her pain. Strikingly beautiful, men naturally flocked to her. But what they didn't count on was taking their final breath at her hands. She seduced and destroyed everyone in her path and could not be stopped. That is, until 'the one' comes along. The one that may be different than the others, one that wants so badly to believe that she is worth saving. But as badly as he does, he may learn that some things cannot be changed, nor do they want to be...

"Ah God!"

"Wow, even better the second time…"

"You hungry baby?" The curvy little brunette asked breathily as she crawled across him to get to the bowl of strawberries on the nightstand.

"For you, always." He growled, running a hand up her waist.

"Will this do?" She purred, tossing her long dark tresses to the side as she straddled him. "Open wide, baby." She whispered, placing one of the cool berries to his lips.

"Sweet, just like you." He smiled after taking a bite. She let off a little grin pressing another berry to his mouth.

"What's wrong?" She asked when he began rubbing his throat.

"I- can't bre-" He gasped.

"Breath?" She asked, tilting her head.


"What was that sweetie, I can't hear you?" She asked, leaning forward.


"Call? Call who? An ambulance?" she ask, rather coy.

"I'm sorry sweetie." The somber in her voice and the intensity in her face was the last thing he saw before his vision faded.

"The world of sports entertainment is mourning the loss of one of its biggest stars. Multi-time world champion John Cena was found unresponsive in his hotel late last night where he was later pronounced dead…"

Merci lifted her head from the paper she was clipping and watched as the anchorman talked.

"How unfortunate." She said to herself as she turned her attention back to the piece of paper she neatly pasted into a dainty scrapbook.

"...It seems to have come from an apparent allergic reaction, but officials won't know for sure until an autopsy is performed. No foul play is suspected…"

Merci lifted the book to eye level and placed her lips on the picture of John before tracing it with her finger.

"Sorry baby."