Chapter 9: Breaking Point

"The game was on, and I was playing for keeps."

That's what I told myself as I left Caspian in that conference room. Game on. This time, I wouldn't let anyone make me feel worthless—not Victoria, not the Warriors, and especially not Caspian Drake. No matter how much my traitorous heart wanted to believe in the truth behind his eyes.

Twelve hours later, Diana Wright's text landed like a bomb: "Palmer's threatening to pull all their business. Fix this mess by morning." My hands shook as I stared at my reflection in Morgan & Wright's bathroom mirror. The woman looking back at me was a stranger—perfect makeup couldn't hide the shadows under my eyes, and my Target clearance blazer suddenly felt like a child's costume in this world of power suits and trust funds. Six years of building walls, of proving I belonged here, and now it was all threatening to crumble because of Caspian Drake. Again.

My phone buzzed—Isolde this time. "Girl, turn on ESPN NOW."

I barely made it back to my office in time to see Caspian at a Warriors press conference. The cocky quarterback from the highlight reels was gone, replaced by someone I barely recognized. His jaw was tight with barely controlled rage as he gripped the podium.

"These allegations about my commitment to the team are baseless," he said, each word precise and careful. "I've given everything to the Warriors. But when personal relationships are being used as leverage..." His eyes flicked off-camera, and something dark crossed his face. "Some things aren't for sale."

The feed cut off abruptly. My heart stopped when I saw who was standing in my doorway.

"Quite a performance." Victoria Palmer's smile was all teeth and Chanel lipstick. She looked exactly like what she was—old money wrapped in new designer clothes. "Daddy's not happy."

I forced my hands to stay steady as I closed my laptop. "This is a private office."

"Oh please." She stalked in like she owned the place, her Jimmy Choos probably worth three months of my salary. The scent of her perfume filled the small space, expensive and suffocating. "Let's skip the pretense. You know exactly why I'm here."

"To threaten me with daddy's money?" The words came out sharper than intended, edged with six years of buried rage. "Already got that memo from Diana."

Her laugh was like breaking glass. "You really don't get it, do you? This isn't about money. This is about what belongs to me."

"Caspian Drake doesn't belong to anyone."

"No?" She pulled out her phone, perfectly manicured nails tapping the screen. "What would the ethics board think about these?"

My stomach turned as she scrolled through photos. Caspian and me entering Morgan & Wright. Late night strategy sessions in the conference room. Each image perfectly framed to suggest impropriety, each one a loaded gun aimed at my career.

"Those photos are meaningless." But my voice betrayed me, coming out thin and uncertain.

"Are they?" Her smile turned predatory. "Just like that night in high school was meaningless? Oh yes, honey, I know all about your little graduation adventure. Five hundred dollars, wasn't it? At least back then you knew your price."

The old pain mixed with fresh rage, making my vision blur. Every anxiety-management technique Dr. Harris had taught me went out the window. "Get out."

"It's simple really," she said, sliding off my desk with practiced grace. "Make him drop the contract dispute, and these stay private. Let him keep fighting..." She shrugged, the gesture elegant and threatening. "Well, I'm sure the partners would love to know about their junior associate's history with clients."

She paused at the door, her smile almost pitying. "You know what's funny? He actually thinks he loves you. The great Caspian Drake, pining after some scholarship charity case. But we both know how this ends. People like him don't end up with people like you. They end up with people like me."

The door clicked shut behind her, and I finally let myself shake. One breath. Two. My anxiety meds sat in my desk drawer, but I couldn't risk the fuzzy head they gave me. Not now.

My phone rang—Caspian's name lighting up the screen. I almost didn't answer, but the lawyer in me knew I had to.

"They're going to release the photos," I said before he could speak.

"I know." His voice was rough, like he'd been arguing for hours. The familiar timber sent unwanted heat spiraling through me. "Palmer just showed them to the team owner. Sage, I'm so sorry. I never meant to drag you into this mess."

"It's my job." But we both knew that was a lie. Nothing about this had ever been just business. The electricity that had sparked between us six years ago in his study was still there, buried under layers of hurt and mistrust.

"No, it's not. This is personal. They're using our past to control both of us." He paused, and I could hear the weight of what he wasn't saying. Something raw and unfinished crackled between us, even through the phone. "I'll withdraw the contract dispute. Walk away from the Warriors. Find another team."

"You can't." My voice betrayed me with its intensity.

"I can't let them destroy your career over this." The fierceness in his voice made my heart race in a way I refused to acknowledge. "Not after everything I've already taken from you."

"And I can't let you throw away everything you've built." The words came out before I could stop them, raw with emotions I thought I'd buried years ago. My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white. "Not for me. Not again."

Silence stretched between us, heavy with six years of unspoken truths and unanswered questions. I could almost feel his breath on my skin despite the miles between us.

"Meet me," he finally said, his voice dropping to that intimate tone that still haunted my dreams. "Not as your client. Just... please. There are things you need to know. About that night. About everything."

I should have said no. Should have maintained professional boundaries. Should have remembered how it felt to have my heart shattered by trusting him. But maybe that was the problem—I remembered everything. Every touch, every whisper, every moment his skin had been against mine. Every promise that turned out to be a lie. Or maybe they hadn't all been lies, and maybe that was worse.

"Le Blanc," I heard myself say, heart hammering so hard I could barely hear my own voice. "One hour."

I hung up before he could respond, before I could change my mind. My fingers trembled as I set the phone down. The memory of his hands on my body six years ago burned through me like a physical touch. Victoria Palmer thought she could threaten me with old wounds and scandal. But she'd forgotten something important—the girl who'd been worth five hundred dollars didn't exist anymore. In her place was someone who'd learned to fight back.

My phone buzzed one last time as I gathered my things. A text from an unknown number made my blood freeze.

Meeting the quarterback? I'll be watching, little girl. Robert misses his favorite stepdaughter.

I stared at the screen, terror and rage battling for control.