Wait. I need to chill.
“DaVinci?” Giveon’s voice pulled me back. “You still with us?”
“Yeah, my bad, I got some shit on my mind.”
“It better be my new friend and not these groupies going crazy on Insta about you.”
“Fuck them groupies, and your friend asked for space, and I’m giving it to her,” I said. “But she ain’t leaving my mind, be cool.”
“That’s what any sister–in–law wants to hear.”
“Chill,” I muttered, feeling heat creep up my neck. Omni had been on bullshit since she met Halo. I hadn’t even gotten in good yet.
“Giv, continue.”
Giveon clicked to the next slide. “Now. The retirement announcement. We need to talk timing and optics.”
Stetson straightened. This was what he’d been waiting on. My family had been back and forth about me retiring after this season, but at the end of the day, it was my call.
“You sure about this?” he asked me directly. “You still got years left in the league, son.”
“I talked to the team doctor last week. He said medically, I could play another two, maybe three seasons. But if I want to walk without a limp at fifty, if I want to play with my kids one day, I should think about stepping back sooner than later.”
The kids’ thing was just hypothetical. Distant. But for the first time in years, it didn’t seem impossible. Just... possible.
“And you’ve been thinking about it,” Stetson said. Not a question.
“I’ve been thinking about it since Devyn died,” I told him truthfully. That was the part I hadn’t shared. “Ball was all I had after she passed. Now I've got other shit I want to do. Ignite is doing numbers. Omni’s lining up a second Chy Bella. The foundation’s expanding. I don’t want to be the old head limping around pretending I still got it when I don’t.”
“You still got it,” Omni said quietly. “But I get it. You want to leave on your terms.”
“Exactly.”
I was tired of traveling. The hotels. The schedule. It’d all been cool, but everything had an end. This part of my life was winding down, and I wasn’t about to cry over it. I wanted to see what it felt like to build something that wasn’t just my jumper. To be present. To have a life that wasn’t dictated by a calendar I didn’t control.
And yeah, I wanted to see where this thing with Halo could go if I actually had the time and space to let it.
Giveon pulled up another document. “The Pinnacles offered you a two–year extension. Twenty-five million.”
I didn’t blink. “Tell them no.”
“DaVinci, boy, what?” Omni fussed.
“I’m finishing this season. Then I’m done. I’m not dragging this out for a check I don’t need.”
“That’s the right call,” Stetson said with a nod.
“The press is gonna have a field day,” Giveon said. “They’ll want statements, interviews, all of it. I rope Marsha in.”
“Let them talk. I’ll make a statement at the end of the season. Until then, I’m focused on winning a championship and getting out without injuries or more drama. Clean.”
Omni finally set her phone all the way down. Something shifted in her face. “Speaking of getting out clean… we need to talk about what I learned when I had lunch with Halo.”
“Sis, for real. You gotta let me handle my woman.”
“Do you know your ‘woman’ is scared?” she asked. “Since you got your degree and know everything.”
A vein pulsed at my temple. I didn’t like Omni knowing more about Halo’s fears than I did. “Scared of what?”
