Credible source? I thought we had been careful, but maybe someone saw something in the way we look at each other. It was probably clear as day to anyone who saw us.
It suddenly clicks. “That’s why I found you in my office that day.”
“A little slow to the draw.” His eyes rake down my body, pausing on my breasts for longer than comfortable. “At least you’re pretty.”
The comment rankles, but I compartmentalize it like I have every other time some bastard in a suit said something similar. “What do you want?”
His smile is predatory. “You’ll sign your shares over to me and get the hell out of my stadium.”
The desire to push back rears. “And if I don’t?”
“Then this video will find its way to my contact at The Daily Mail.”
“You’re running the risk of ruining your star player’s career.” It could mean a swift death to The Legends; surely, Chapman cared about that?
“I’ll find another fly-half, and we’ll bounce back. You, however…” He shrugs, totally unaffected.
My mind starts racing a thousand miles a minute. Tieran’s done nothing but dream of making the National Team, and with the way he’s been playing, he has a good shot. If this video goes live, it threatens to upset the conservative list of selectors who want a squeaky clean team. Could I really let that happen? Could I really be the reason he might not make it to the Olympics? He would resent me forever for being the thing that kept him from his dream, and that, more than anything else, would kill me.
He sucks a breath through his teeth, continuing his ranting while my mind whirs a thousand miles a minute. “I mean, who’s to say you didn’t leak it yourself in an attempt to sell clothes, or lipstick, or—” he swats his hand through the air, “whatever the hell you hock to the airheads that follow you. No matter how you spin it, it looks bad, and the public famously loves controversy. Scouts and business investors, though? Not so much.”
Would the stakeholders attached to Jaded pull out after this hit the press? After the way I've been handling things since moving here it’s possible. Especially if the loyal fanbase I’ve built over the last decade leaves me behind because I’m no longer this shiny perfect picture they’ve idolized.
“Well!” Lawrence’s boisterous voice cuts through the battle taking place in my head. “I can see you’re having a lot of thoughts, and because I’m so benevolent, I’ll allow you some time to think about your decision.” He tosses both devices in the air, catching them in his waiting palmsand pocketing them. “I’ll be taking these. Wouldn’t want you thinking you have anything you can use against me.”
The hate that fills my body when he laughs at the look on my face nearly makes me launch off the couch to strangle him.
He walks to the door with the swagger of a king, stopping at the threshold and looking at me still sitting on my couch. “You’ve got till tonight to make a decision. If I don’t hear from you by nine, the world will know what you look like when you’re gagging on it by morning.”
I’ve ignored Tieran’s texts all day while I try to figure out if there’s any way out of this without losing everything we’ve worked for—without losing each other.
A migraine pulses at the edges of my temples as thoughts form as quickly as they fizzle away. I can’t think of a single thing to fix this mess that would leave us unscathed, and I’m slipping perilously close to a meltdown. Ineverhad meltdowns. No matter how harrowing the situation, I pride myself on staying composed and professional.
That was before my heart was involved, though.
Now, I’m floundering around like a fish on dry land, because I can’t think of a way out of this without the total evisceration of my heart.
My first instinct is to go to the authorities, because what he did has to be illegal. But with the proof in his pocket, what would they do? It was all hearsay. I’m in a room, and the walls are closing in rapidly, backing me deeper and deeper into the corner.
Focusing on work after Chapman left my office was impossible. All I could think about was everything he had seen on that camera, every look on Tieran’s face, every moan that fell from my mouth.
But I don’t feel embarrassed by what was on the video. I feelviolated.
He took a moment between two people who love each other and turned it into blackmail. And the worst part is, it’s going to work, because, as smart as I am, I can’t puzzle my way out of this.
My phone pings with a notification as I get out of the taxi dropping me off outside of my dad’s house on the outskirts of London.
I miss you.
My heart squeezes painfully in my chest, and holding back the urge to shatter into tears is next to impossible as I walk through the gate to the modest, two-story home.
I don’t bother knocking and walk through the front door to find him on the sofa in his sitting room, BBC Sports playing reruns of the last Legends match on the tv in the corner. My soul feels like ashes on the wind as I see the familiar figures running around on the screen.
Dad turns toward me, brows lifting into his salt and pepper hair. “I didn’t know you were coming by.” His tone is surprised.
“Hi, Dad.” I paste on my best fake smile. The last thing I need is for him to worry about me, it wouldn’t be good for his condition. “What are you doing?”
His shaky hand waves through the air, clutching the remote. “Watching the lads play. That Stone boy is something else. You better make sure you keep hold of him.”
