Eli
I spotted her slipping through the side door the moment the press conference ended. No media. No handlers. Just Marina, moving fast like she didn’t want to be seen, arms tight around herself.
I didn’t think twice, I followed.
She disappeared behind the building, past the loading docks and the waiting cars. I found her sitting by a small fountain tucked into the back garden, the water quietly trickling beside her.
She had her heels off. Her makeup was perfect, but her posture wasn’t. Her shoulders sagged like they were holding too much.
“Didn’t peg you as a sneaker,” I said gently.
She didn’t look up. “Didn’t peg you as a bodyguard.”
I walked over and sat beside her, keeping a respectful distance.
“I saw you leave. Figured someone should make sure you didn’t punch a camera guy.”
She let out a half-laugh. “Tempting.”
We sat in silence for a moment. Then, finally, she said, “He told me to cut you off.”
I turned. “Your dad?”
She nodded. “Said I was ruining everything. That Shanghai was a disaster. That you were a… distraction.”
I clenched my jaw. “He said that to your face?”
“Right before he revoked my club access. Took away all my training slots. Told my sponsors I was ‘resting.’”
I swore under my breath.
“I’m not even allowed into my own gym,” she added, voice quiet now. “He said if I want to act like I’m grown, I can train like one—with no support.”
“That’s not parenting,” I muttered. “That’s punishment.”
She finally turned to look at me.
“I get it,” she said. “He’s intense. But he raised me to win. Not to feel.”
“And you’re supposed to just shut everything off?”
“That’s what I’ve always done.”
“Is it working?”
Her eyes met mine—and that silence said everything. Then she added, “He blames you. But the truth is… I started to enjoy tennis again. That’s what really pisses him off.”
I smiled a little. “So I’m the spark. The corrupting influence.”
“The emotional chaos.”
I put a hand to my heart. “I’m honored.”
She nudged my knee with hers. “Don’t let it get to your head.”
“Too late.”
We laughed softly, but then the air shifted. She grew still again. “Do you regret it?” she asked. “The betting stuff. The ban.”
My throat tightened. “Every day.”
I stared at the water, not ready to meet her eyes yet.
“I was nineteen,” I said slowly. “And broke. I didn’t throw a match. I just… agreed to show up for one. Some idiot told me it was harmless. But then it spiraled. Sponsors pulled out. The press came after me. The federation blacklisted me.”
She was silent.
“I was too proud to explain myself. Too stupid to fight it right. So I disappeared.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked gently.
“Because no one wanted to hear it. Once you’re branded a villain, it’s easier to play the role than beg for redemption.”
She leaned her head against the stone fountain edge. “That’s so messed up.”
“I thought if I came back loud, brash, arrogant—they’d pay attention again. But all I did was prove them right.”
“Not to me,” she said.
I looked at her.
“You’re not the villain in my story anymore,” she whispered.
My chest squeezed. She reached for my hand. Her fingers slid over mine, cool and soft. I couldn’t breathe.
“I didn’t mean to kiss you in Shanghai,” she added quickly.
I smirked. “Really? Because it was pretty convincing.”
“I was overwhelmed. Happy. Adrenaline drunk.”
I squeezed her hand. “I didn’t kiss you back.”
“You did,” she muttered.
“Right. Because I liked it.”
She groaned. “Stop talking.”
I grinned. “You brought it up.”
She shook her head, laughing into her sleeve. “You’re impossible.”
“And you keep holding my hand.”
Her fingers twitched but didn’t let go.
“You know,” I said softly, “we don’t have to do this the way they expect.”
“What way?”
“Silent. Separate. Controlled.”
She was quiet.
“I like you when you’re messy,” I added. “When you tell me off and wear dumpling grease on your shirt.”
“That was one time.”
“Still my favorite shirt.”
She smiled again—really smiled. Then said, “Eli?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to win. But I want to want it. Not be scared of failing.”
“Then let’s make that our game plan.”
She nodded, leaning her head against my shoulder. And I knew I wasn’t walking away from this girl. Not now. Not ever.