"We have to go. It's your job." I turn in his arms, meeting those blue-gray eyes. "Besides, some days his voice still gets in my head. I hear him telling me I'm too much, that I'm hovering, that everything I do is wrong. I hate that he still has that power. I want… I want to show him he doesn’t faze me."
Silas's jaw tightens, but he stays quiet. His eyes are flashing, though.
"I don't want to see him," I admit. "But I'll be with you. So we're going."
He cups my face, thumbs stroking my cheekbones. "If he says one word to you..."
"Then I'll handle it." My voice comes out stronger than I feel. "I need to face him, Si. I need to prove to myself that I'm not afraid anymore."
Hours later, I'm smoothing down the deep green silk dress that makes Silas's eyes go dark with want. The fabric hugs my slender frame, falling to just above my knees. My honey blonde hair is styled in loose waves that cascade over my shoulders. I feel pretty.
In the car, Silas keeps glancing at me like he's waiting for me to change my mind. He looks incredible in his black suit, his dirty blond hair pulled back in a low bun, jaw sharp and clean-shaven. Those blue-gray eyes keep finding mine, protective and concerned. His hand finds mine, fingers lacing together.
"We can leave anytime," he says. "You say the word and we're gone."
"I know." That knowledge settles something in my chest. "That's why I can do this."
The gala is everything I expected. Crystal chandeliers throwing rainbow light across marble floors, champagne flutes catching gold reflections, people in expensive clothes pretending net worth determines human value. Silas keeps me close, his hand never leaving the small of my back as we navigate through clusters of sponsors and players.
I see Enzo before he sees us.
He's holding court near the bar, surrounded by younger players who don't know any better yet. Same sharp suit, same practiced charm, same smile that never quite reaches his eyes. My stomach clenches with old muscle memory, the instinct tomake myself smaller, to smooth things over before conflict can start.
But I'm not that person anymore.
"There," I murmur to Silas, nodding toward the bar.
Silas follows my gaze. His hand tightens on my waist, protective but not controlling. "Say the word."
"Not yet."
We make it almost an hour without talking to him. I'm talking with Juliet about the overwhelming success of Mobility Mondays when I see him approaching. That old familiar dread, the way my body learned to sense his moods before he even opened his mouth.
"Silas." Enzo's voice is smooth oil, all practiced charm. "And Scout. How domestic."
I turn slowly, deliberately and meet his eyes without flinching, even though my heart is hammering. "Enzo."
Silas goes rigid beside me, but he stays silent. He’s letting me take the lead.
"Walk away," I say. My voice shakes slightly, but it's steady enough.
"I can't do that. Business, you understand." Enzo slides a leather folder onto the nearest cocktail table, tapping it with one manicured finger. "I've got something Silas is going to want to see."
"He's not interested."
"He will be." Enzo's smile sharpens into something predatory. "New contracts. International sponsors. Endorsement deals that would set him up for life. Triple what he's making now, maybe more." His eyes flick to me, dismissive. "All he has to do is sign with me again. Drop the distractions. Let me handle his career the way it should be handled."
The word distractions hits like a slap. All those years of Enzo telling me I was too much, too emotional, too clingy. Iwas holding him back, making everything harder, ruining his focus.
Something snaps inside me.
"You need to leave," I say, but the shakiness is gone now. "You’re a terrible human being and probably a shitty agent too. Players should avoid you like the IR list."
"This doesn't concern you, honey." Enzo's tone is patronizing, like he's explaining something obvious to a child. "This is business. Men's business. Why don't you go get us some drinks while Silas and I have a real conversation?"
The dismissal in his voice unlocks something I've been holding back for years. Silas growls and moves toward him, but I cling to his hand, holding him back.
"You were a horrible husband," I tell Enzo. The words come out clear and sharp, cutting through the ambient noise of the gala. People nearby start to turn their heads and listen. "You cheated on me multiple times. You made me feel crazy for accusing you. Then when I finally found proof, you acted like I was being dramatic!"
