After My Star Player Betrayed Me for His Mistress

The arena shook. The bass from the speakers vibrated through the floorboards of the owner's box. It was Saturday afternoon. The Fall Split opener. Midnight Wolves versus Hellfire. The stadium was completely sold out.

I stood in the dim light of the box, watching the main broadcast monitor. Elian’s face filled the screen. He was doing a live pre-match interview. The lights caught the sharp line of his jaw. Johan's jaw. But I felt nothing.

"I'm just focused on proving people wrong," Elian told the camera. He offered a cocky, practiced smile. "I'm finally free. I have space to breathe. I'm ready to play my own game today."

I watched his eyes. I watched his mouth. I waited for it. He went quiet for a beat. Just a fraction of a second. Then his chin jerked up, and his voice got louder. He overcorrected into aggression. It was his tell. He used to do it when he was losing a lane. He was doing it now. He was rattled. He was terrified.

I picked up my tablet and switched the feed to our green room.

Theo sat on a cheap folding chair in the corner. He wore his black Midnight Wolves jersey. He was eating a granola bar. His battered spiral notebook rested on his knee. He chewed slowly, flipping a page. He looked like a college kid waiting for a bus. He didn't look like a rookie about to step onto the biggest stage in North America to replace a legend.

I locked the tablet and set it down.

The games began. The noise in the arena was deafening. Fans screamed Elian's name. They held up signs mocking me. I ignored all of it. I just watched the screen.

We took game one. Hellfire scraped back game two. We crushed them in game three.

Then came game four. Match point.

Thirty-five minutes in, the tension was suffocating. The gold was dead even. Hellfire grouped around the Baron pit. Elian was playing aggressively. He wanted the spotlight. He wanted the hero play. He pushed too far forward, trying to force a fight.

I watched Theo's champion on the screen. He didn't panic. He didn't rush. He waited in the fog of war.

Elian stepped out of position by a single inch.

Theo moved. He made a split-second rotation through the jungle. It was a surgical flank. He bypassed Hellfire's frontline entirely and dropped right onto Elian. He didn't just kill him. He dismantled him. He erased Elian from the map in four seconds, then turned and broke the rest of the team.

The crowd erupted. It was a wall of pure sound.

"The play of the split!" the lead commentator screamed through the speakers, his voice cracking. "Are you kidding me? Theo Ellis just broke Hellfire!"

The screen flashed a massive, golden 'VICTORY'. 3-1.

The broadcast camera instantly panned to the owner's box. It zoomed in on my face. Millions of people were watching. They wanted to see me gloat. They wanted to see me cry. I gave them nothing. I didn't smile. I didn't cheer. I just stared blankly into the lens, my expression entirely unreadable.

The broadcast cut to the main stage. Elian ripped his headset off. His face was red. He slammed the headset onto the desk so hard the plastic shattered.

I turned around and walked out of the box.

I took the private elevator down to the ground floor. I needed to get to the press room before the post-game interviews started. The concrete corridor backstage was empty. The roar of the crowd was muffled behind thick walls. The air was cool and smelled like ozone and floor wax.

I turned the corner.

Savanna Mills was standing right in the middle of the hallway.

She wore a Hellfire jersey that was tied at the waist. She saw me approaching. Her eyes flicked past my shoulder. She was calculating. I didn't stop walking. I kept my pace steady.

As I stepped past her, Savanna suddenly threw herself backward.

She twisted her ankle on purpose and hit the concrete floor hard. She let out a loud, theatrical gasp. Her hands flew to her face. "Ember, why would you push me?" she cried out. Her voice echoed down the hall.

Before I could even blink, heavy footsteps pounded around the corner.

Tyler Marsh, Hellfire's captain. He was sweating, still in his match jersey. He saw Savanna on the floor. He saw me standing over her. His face twisted into ugly, blind rage.

He lunged at me.

He slammed his heavy forearm into my chest and shoved me backward. My spine hit the concrete wall with a sickening thud. The breath rushed out of my lungs. The back of my head cracked against the stone. Pain flared hot and bright in my skull. Tyler pinned me there, his face inches from mine. He smelled like sweat and adrenaline.

"Are you crazy?" Tyler spat, his eyes wide. "Don't you ever touch her!"

I didn't gasp. I didn't struggle. My mind went instantly, dangerously cold. I looked right into his eyes.

Then, a blur of black and gray shot past my peripheral vision.

It was fast. It was utterly violent.

Hands grabbed Tyler’s collar. He was ripped away from me so hard his boots left the floor. I heard a loud, heavy crash. Tyler hit the opposite wall.

Theo had him pinned by the throat.

Theo's jaw was clenched so tight the muscle jumped. His dark eyes were lethal. He didn't yell. He didn't say a single word. He just squeezed. Tyler gagged. His eyes bulged. He clawed frantically at Theo's arm, but Theo didn't budge. He looked like he was ready to kill him right there in the hallway.

"Theo!" Derek's voice echoed down the hall.

My head coach sprinted around the corner, followed by two of our academy players. They grabbed Theo's shoulders. They had to physically pry him off. It took all three of them. Theo stumbled back, chest heaving, but his eyes never left Tyler's face.

Tyler slid down the wall, coughing and gasping for air. Savanna was frozen on the floor, her fake tears completely gone, replaced by genuine shock.

I stood up straight. The pain in my back throbbed, but I ignored it. I took a slow, deep breath. I reached up and deliberately smoothed down the lapels of my jacket.

Theo turned his head. He looked at me. The violence in his eyes melted away instantly. He stepped toward me, his hands hovering, wanting to check if I was hurt but terrified to cross the line.

"I'm fine," I said quietly.

I looked up. In the corner of the ceiling, a small black dome blinked with a steady red light. The backstage security camera. It had a perfect angle of the entire hallway. It caught Savanna's fake fall. It caught Tyler's assault.

I stared at the red light. I felt a slow, icy smile touch the corner of my mouth. I knew exactly which journalist I was going to send the file to next week.