"Did you know about this?" Marcus spun to face me, his face turning an angry shade of red. "You're his assistant!"
"I swear to you, Marcus, I had no idea." I backed away from the television monitor.
"He's your boss!" Marcus threw his hands up, nearly knocking over a stack of media guides. "You tape his ankles. You manage his schedule. You practically live at his condo. How do you not know he's dropping a marriage bomb on national television?"
"He told me he had a surprise."
"A surprise?" Marcus barked a harsh laugh. "A surprise is a new sports car. Not a live broadcast proposal! The board is blowing up my phone. PR is in a complete tailspin. Who is he marrying?"
"I don't know." My stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot.
"Find out. Now." Marcus pointed toward the door. "Stop the press from running with rumors before they ruin our championship narrative."
"I'll handle it."
I didn't wait for him to yell again. I bolted out of the cramped broadcast room and hit the concrete tunnels of the arena.
The final buzzer ripped through the building a moment later. The crowd noise shook the floorboards beneath my sneakers. They won. Game Seven was over.
I didn't stay to watch the confetti fall. I shoved my way through the maze of hallways, dodging security guards and arena staff. My pulse hammered against my ribs.
*I want you to admit you're crazy about me.*
*Winning is guaranteed. And after that, everything changes for us.*
His words echoed in my skull. Was he going to announce us? Was that his insane, reckless plan? A public declaration to force his management's hand?
I reached the VIP locker suite.
Heavy bass rattled the walls. Champagne sprayed across the ceiling, raining down on million-dollar athletes. The smell of alcohol and sweat hung thick in the air.
Jude stood on a leather sofa in the center of the room. He hoisted the gold championship trophy above his head.
Maya Thorne clung to his waist.
She was a runway model. The woman Jude's agent hired to be his public girlfriend for the last six months. Jude told me it was just a contract. A fake relationship to boost his endorsements and keep his name in the tabloids.
Right now, it didn't look fake.
Maya kissed his stomach. She laughed, tossing her dark hair back.
"Jude!" I shouted over the pounding music.
He didn't hear me.
I pushed past the starting point guard. "Excuse me. Jude, get down here."
Maya turned. Her manicured nails dug into Jude's sweat-soaked jersey. She glared at me, her eyes sweeping over my plain polo shirt and slacks. "Who let the help in?"
"I need a word with my boss," I told her. I kept my voice steady.
Maya hopped off the sofa. She marched right up to me, blocking my path to Jude. "You don't talk to him right now. He's celebrating."
"Move, Maya."
"You have a lot of nerve." She crossed her arms, the diamonds on her wrists catching the harsh locker room lights. "Coming in here, barking orders."
"It's my job."
"Your job is fetching water."
"Jude," I called out again, ignoring her entirely. "We need to talk about the press conference."
Maya's hand swung fast.
*Crack.*
Pain exploded across my left cheek. My head snapped to the side. The sheer force of the slap sent me stumbling back a step.
The music kept playing, but the players closest to us went dead silent.
"You're just a little assistant," Maya hissed. Her voice cut through the heavy bass, sharp and vicious. "Daring to covet a big star? Know your place."
My skin burned. I tasted copper on my bottom lip.
I slowly turned my head back.
I didn't look at Maya. I found Jude.
*He'll lose his mind,* I thought. *He'll jump down here. He'll throw her out.*
Jude stepped down from the sofa. He didn't rush to my side. He didn't yell at the woman who just assaulted me.
He simply looked annoyed.
"Jude," I whispered.
He wiped a drop of champagne off his chin. "Don't cause a scene here, Lila."
The ice in his tone froze the blood in my veins.
"She hit me."
"You provoked her." He checked his diamond watch, refusing to meet my eyes. "Go back and do your job. Don't bring personal feelings into this and make a mess. The cameras are right outside."
I stared at the man I had loved in secret for two years. The man who kissed me in the trainer's room three hours ago. The man who whispered promises into my skin when no one else was looking.
"Personal feelings?" I asked. My voice trembled, but I forced it loud enough for him to hear. "You told me everything changes today."
"It did. I'm marrying Maya."
Maya smirked, wrapping her arm around Jude's bicep. He didn't pull away. He leaned into her touch.
"The press is waiting in the main hall," Jude continued. His tone was entirely business. Cold. Detached. "I need my schedule cleared for the victory parade. Fix your face and get out there."
He was protecting his brand. His public image. His fake girlfriend who was suddenly his real fiancé.
He didn't care about me at all.
Every late night. Every stolen moment. Every promise whispered in the dark. It was all a game to him. And the season was over.
Cold clarity washed over me, extinguishing whatever warmth I had left for him. My heart didn't just break. It died completely.
I reached for the back of my neck. I unclasped the heavy plastic lanyard holding my all-access arena pass.
"What are you doing?" Jude asked. His brow furrowed.
I tossed the lanyard on the floor. It clattered against his expensive sneakers.
"Pick that up, Lila."
I reached into my pocket. I pulled out the magnetic keycard to his penthouse. The one he gave me six months ago.
I dropped it on the floor right next to the badge.
Jude's jaw tightened. "Stop acting crazy. Pick up your credentials."
"I quit."
I didn't wait for his response. I didn't look at Maya's triumphant smile. I had nothing left to say to either of them.
I turned around and walked toward the exit.
"If you walk out that door, you're done!" Jude yelled over the music. "I'll make sure nobody in this league hires you!"
I kept my mouth shut. I pushed the heavy metal door open and stepped into the quiet hallway, leaving the noise behind me.
I marched down the concrete tunnel, heading straight for the player's parking lot. The cool night air hit my burning cheek as I pushed through the exterior doors.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I pulled it out, expecting Marcus demanding an update.
It was an unknown number.
I swiped answer. "I'm not doing press right now."
"I don't need press, Lila," a deep, unfamiliar voice replied. "I need a new assistant. And I hear you just became available."
I stopped walking. "Who is this?"
"The man who owns the team Jude just beat."
