Chase’s smirk widened. “What happened?”
I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I stood, rolled my shoulders once, then faced them fully. “Elise made a move.”
The air shifted.
Theo straightened first. “On Mila?”
“Yes.”
Jax’s expression lost its humor. “Define move.”
“Fabricated corporate documents. Industrial espionage framing her mom. Threat of criminal investigation if Mila and I don’t ‘self-correct.’”
Chase let out a low whistle. “That escalated.”
“They expected her to run,” I continued. “Expected me to distance.”
Theo’s jaw flexed. “And?”
“And we didn’t.”
She stood beside me—trusting me enough to stay. That wasn’t something I took lightly.
Jax’s mouth curved, pride flashing. “Of course you didn’t.”
Silence stretched between us.
Chase dragged a hand through his hair. “Would our presence have stopped it?”
“No,” I admitted. “But it sends a message.”
“That you roll deep?” Jax arched a brow.
“That I’m not isolated.”
Theo pushed off the lockers. “You aren’t.”
“I know.” A beat of silence passed between us, thick with history. Early morning lifts. Road trips crammed into buses. Fights that ended in blood and laughter. They weren’t just teammates; they were the line that held when everything else shifted.
“What’s the countermove?” Chase asked, more focused now.
I leaned back against the locker, arms crossed. “We stop letting her operate in the background. Mila and I walk in together. We don’t dodge. If Elise wants something done, she pushes her father to do it in daylight.”
Jax’s grin kicked to one side. “Public showdown. I like it.”
“You’re not instigating anything,” I replied evenly.
“I never instigate,” he returned. “I respond aggressively.”
Chase snorted. “That’s instigating with better branding.”
Theo didn’t smile. “You really think she convinces him to file charges?”
“If she thinks she’s losing control?” I answered. “Yes.”
The locker room quieted a notch.
Chase leaned forward, forearms on his knees. “Those documents aren’t Elise’s handiwork. That’s corporate.”
