Chapter 6: When Truth Hits Hard

Robert found me. The screen blurred as this knowledge instantly surged like ice through my veins. My carefully constructed world tilted sideways. My fingers hovered over the delete button, but I saved the message instead. Evidence... that's what the lawyer in me said. Yet the frightened 18-year-old inside me wanted to run and never stop.

I fled home in panic, seeking sanctuary.

I kicked off my heels the moment I got inside, letting my professional mask crack along with my composure. The signed engagement letter felt like it was burning a hole in my briefcase. Caspian Drake is now officially my client, on the same day that the monster that is Robert shows up.

"Tell me you have wine," Isolde called from my tiny kitchen, already rummaging through my cabinets.

"Top shelf, behind the instant ramen." I collapsed onto my worn couch. "I'm going to need the whole bottle."

The TV suddenly blared to life. I must have sat on the remote. And there he was – Caspian's face filling my screen, his usual cocky grin replaced by something almost... sincere.

"Six years ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life," he said, his voice carrying that familiar intensity that still made my stomach twist. "I betrayed the trust of someone special. Sage," his voice softened on my name, making my heart stutter, "you were the only one who saw past the jersey and the touchdowns. The only one who believed in me when I didn't even believe in myself."

"I was just a stupid kid trying to prove something to my teammates. I took the most genuine thing in my life and turned it into a game. And every success, every touchdown, every win since then feels hollow because of what I threw away that night."

"Oh my God." Isolde's wineglass froze halfway to her mouth. "Sage, he just said your name on national television."

"Turn it off!" I finally managed to silence him, but the damage was done. Six years of carefully built walls threatened to crumble at the mere sound of him saying my name.

"That wasn't just some generic PR apology," Isolde ventured. "He said your name, Sage. On national TV."

"Sorry?" I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "Do you know what he's sorry about? He made a bet. Five hundred dollars to sleep with the nerdy valedictorian. That's what I was worth to him. Five hundred fucking dollars."

My voice cracked, and I hated myself for it. "I believed in fairy tales back then. Thought the star quarterback actually saw something special in me. God, I was so stupid."

"You weren't stupid." Isolde moved closer. "You were eighteen and—"

"And now I'm his lawyer." The irony made me want to scream. "Because if I don't land a big client by Friday, Diana's going to fire me. And Caspian fucking Drake is the only shot I have."

My phone's buzz cut through the silence. Diana Wright's name lit up the screen.

"Congratulations, Sage," her crisp voice carried a hint of amusement. "You've landed yourself quite a client. His manager called. Apparently, your name came up specifically."

"Be in the conference room by two tomorrow," Diana continued. "All the contract dispute documentation will be waiting. Don't make me regret giving you this chance."

"What happened?" Isolde's reporter instincts were on full alert.

"He asked for me." The words felt like ashes in my mouth. "Caspian specifically requested me as his lawyer."

I pulled up the Warriors' latest press release on my laptop. The contract dispute details made my legal mind spark to life, pushing aside personal drama.

"Look at this." I pointed to a particular clause. "They're building a case against him. Those photos with Victoria Palmer that leaked last week? Not an accident."

"The team owner's daughter?" Isolde leaned in. "The one who's been practically stalking him?"

"The very same. They're using his history with her to paint him as a liability. A quarterback more interested in partying with the boss's daughter than winning games."

Tomorrow, I'd have to be the perfect professional. But tonight... Tonight, I let myself feel every burning bit of rage and pain I'd tried so hard to bury.

"You know," Isolde said, studying my face, "nobody would blame you if you said no. You could walk into Diana's office tomorrow and tell her to find someone else."

"And then what?" I laughed. "Watch my career circle the drain while Olivia Sterling gets the promotion I've killed myself for? No fucking thanks."

My phone buzzed again. A text from an unknown number made my blood freeze.

Hello little girl. Saw you on TV tonight. Been a long time. Still running?

The wine glass slipped from my fingers, shattering against the floor. Red liquid splashed across my bare feet like blood.

"Sage?" Isolde's voice seemed to come from miles away. "What's wrong?"

I couldn't speak. Six years of looking over my shoulder, of jumping at shadows, of waking up screaming from nightmares where Robert's hands were on me again.

"Nothing." I forced the word out, already reaching for my anxiety meds. "Just... work stress."

"Bullshit." Isolde grabbed my phone before I could stop her, her eyes widening. "Who the fuck is this? Is this the same person who's been sending those weird texts you won't talk about?"

I snatched the phone back. "It's nothing. Just a wrong number."

"Sage—"

"I said it's nothing!" The words exploded out of me, making her flinch. Shame immediately followed. "I'm sorry. I just... I need to focus on tomorrow. On the case."

She stared at me for a long moment. "There's something you're not telling me. Something besides Caspian."

How could I explain? How could I tell her about the night I'd fled my house with nothing but a backpack and bruises, about how I'd spent six years looking over my shoulder, terrified Robert would find me again?

"I can't." My voice cracked. "Not tonight. Please, Izzy."

She gathered me in her arms. "Okay. But someday, you're going to have to stop running, Sage. From whatever this is. From Caspian. From yourself."

After she left, I double-checked the locks on my door, then pulled out my laptop. If I was going to face Caspian across a conference table tomorrow, I needed every weapon in my arsenal. His contract, the morality clause, the photos with Victoria Palmer – I memorized every detail, building my armor piece by piece.

Just then, my phone buzzed one last time.