He'd kept a fairly low profile over the last couple of days - actually, ever since he'd paid a visit to the Dumas bitch in the hospital.  When she'd awoken to find him standing over her bed, screaming her head off, he'd decided he had no choice but to tread lightly from her on out.

The burly man slouched somewhat in the seat of the rental car in which he sat, his eyes scanning the area with great scrutiny.  He was glad, not for the first time, that he had a car with tinted windows.  There was no way he could afford the regular kind - it was too big a risk with who knew how many cops patroling for his ass...

Paul suddenly perked up somewhat as he caught sight of a familiar car approaching.  And then, a slow, devious smile spread across his face as he recognized Shane McMahon.  Stephanie was behind the wheel, her expression serious.  If he didn't know better, he'd guess she'd been crying.

Damn little whiny bitch - whatever the reason she looked so upset, she deserved it...

That brought another thought into his head.  The siblings had just come from their little visit to their Daddy's prison.  Well, he ought to make a call to Vince to find out exactly what went down.  And he wouldn't allow the older man to skimp out on any details, either.

As Stephanie parked the car several feet away, Paul kept an eye on her shapely form but unfolded his cell phone.  Luckily, thanks to one of the servants at the McMahon estate, he had the number of the prison, and he'd saved it in his phone book.

Pressing the appropriate button on the phone, the muscular man continued to watch Stephanie McMahon, and he felt a slight stirring of sexual desire in his jeans.  Ignoring his sudden arousal, he pressed the cellular device to his ear.

Someone answered promptly on the other end, and he asked to speak to Vince McMahon, no beating around the bush.  The operator, or whoever in hell it was, told him to wait, put him on hold, and he drummed the fingers of his free hand on the dashboard as he waited.

After a few long moments, the phone on the other end was picked up.

"Hello?!" a voice barked at him, and Paul instantly recognized it as belonging to Vince.

"Vince - it's Paul..."

"What do you want?" the older man demanded, and before Levesque could reply, he cut back in.  "Are you calling to tell me you've finally gotten the job done?"

Paul could hear all the hopefulness in Vince's voice - it was like that of a giddy schoolgirl being asked to her prom by the captain of the football team.

"No..." he admitted reluctantly, slightly embarrassed.  He ran his hand through his long dark blond hair and sighed.  "No, I haven't taken out Copeland - not yet, anyway..."

"Then why the hell are you calling?"

"I wanted to find out what happened today," Paul admitted.  "I know your two ungrateful brats paid you a visit..."

That seemed to remind Vince of something his son had told him.

"Oh, is that so?  You stupid bastard!" the man shouted, and his voice increased enough in volume so that Levesque had to move the phone slightly away from his ear lest he be deafened.  "You attacked Stephanie, did you?"

Paul was slightly surprised, though not much.  It was only natural that Vince's kids would tell him about that.  Before he could respond, McMahon shouted again.  "Yeah, she's an ungrateful little bitch that needs to be taught a valuable lesson...but damn it, she's still my daughter!  If you ever put your hands on her again, you will live to regret it!  I don't give a damn what you do to your little girlfriend Nora, or to that slut Torrie Wilson, or to Amy Dumas...but my daughter is off-limits!  Do we understand each other?!"

Paul was shocked to realized that his face was actually burning bright red - in shame.

"Perfectly..."

"Good...Now, as for what went down here today - that's none of your damn business!" Vince cried.  "Now, if I were you, Paul, I'd get my shit together - because if you don't - you're fired!"

By now, Levesque was nearly furious, but he kept his anger in check.  He was lucky he hadn't already been fired as it was, so he couldn't afford to antagonize this man any further than he already had.

"Okay, Vince...I understand..."

"Good..."

Paul suddenly found himself staring down at the cell phone as he realized the line had gone dead.  Vince had hung up on him...

"God fucking damn it!" he shouted as he slammed a hand down on the dashboard.