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The Football Star’s Ruined Second Chance Novel Cover

The Football Star’s Ruined Second Chance

Sylvia Mills agreed to marry football star Kai Hale for one reason only: her dying sister. As his secret wife, she remained invisible—caring for his team while he showed off another woman publicly. When the humiliation becomes unbearable, she leaves, picks up her brush again, and transforms into a celebrated painter. Kai loses it all: his career, his reputation, and the woman he never truly valued. Now he's pleading for a second chance. But the art investor who financed her escape is hiding a devastating secret tied to their old contract. Forgiveness or freedom—she must decide.
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Chapter 3

Bass rattled the floorboards of the VIP lounge.

"Sylvia, fetch my silk wrap," Iris ordered, waving an empty champagne flute. "And bring another bottle of the vintage rosé."

I balanced a heavy silver tray against my hip.

"The bar is right behind you," I replied.

"Kai!" Iris whined, leaning into his side. "Your staff is ignoring me again."

Kai did not even glance my way. He swirled amber liquid in his glass.

"Get the wine, Sylvia," he commanded.

"I am off the clock in ten minutes," I stated.

Iris rolled her eyes and lifted her wrist to catch the strobe lights. Diamonds sparkled blindly.

"Do you like it?" Iris asked the crowd of reporters hovering near the velvet ropes. "Kai surprised me this morning. Two hundred thousand dollars."

My stomach dropped.

Two hundred thousand. The exact amount missing from Luna's medical fund. The transfer he refused to authorize yesterday.

I slammed the silver tray onto the nearest glass table. Crystal glasses rattled.

I marched straight toward Kai.

"Transfer the money," I demanded.

The pounding music seemed to fade as the players around him went entirely quiet.

Kai frowned. "What is wrong with you?"

"You spent Luna’s hospital fees on a bracelet," I said, keeping my voice low. "Transfer the funds right now."

"Not tonight, Sylvia," he warned, his jaw rigid. "Don't ruin the celebration. We will handle it tomorrow."

"She needs the medicine tomorrow morning, Kai!"

Iris stepped between us, crossing her arms.

"Are you still begging for handouts?" she sneered. "You only stick around him for the cash. Have some dignity."

"Shut your mouth, Iris," I snapped.

Her eyes widened.

Then, her hand flew through the air.

*Smack.*

The sharp sound cut through the heavy bass. My head snapped to the side.

Total silence fell over the VIP section. The reporters lowered their cameras.

A metallic taste flooded my mouth. Warm blood trickled down my chin.

I slowly turned my face back. I looked directly at Kai.

*Defend me,* I thought. *I am your legal wife.*

Kai moved. He stepped forward and positioned his broad shoulders entirely in front of Iris, shielding her from me.

"Apologize to her," Kai ordered.

I stared at him. Two full seconds passed.

A short, bitter laugh escaped my throat.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"You insulted my guest," he stated coldly. "Apologize."

I stepped around him. I raised my right hand and swung with every ounce of strength I possessed.

My palm collided with Iris's cheek.

The impact echoed like a gunshot.

Iris shrieked, stumbling backward into the leather sofa. She clutched her face.

"Are you crazy?!" Kai roared. He reached for my arm.

I dodged his grip. I shoved my hand into my pocket and pulled out the folded divorce agreement.

I slammed the thick paper flat against his chest.

"What is this?" he demanded, the papers fluttering to the floor.

I grabbed my left hand. I yanked the plain gold wedding band off my finger.

I tossed it directly at his expensive dress shoes. It bounced off the leather and rolled away.

"You bought me for three years," I said, my voice ringing clear across the silent room. "The transaction is over."

Kai stared at the ring on the floor, then back at me. A cruel smirk formed on his lips.

"You are throwing a tantrum," he scoffed. "Pick that up. If you walk out now, how will you pay for Luna’s fees next month?"

Tears burned the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

"Even if I have to beg on my knees," I whispered fiercely, "I will never take another cent from you."

I reached up and ripped the plastic staff badge from my collar. I threw it onto the table.

I turned my back on my husband and walked out the door.

No one tried to stop me.

The fluorescent lights of the emergency ward flickered above my head.

Dr. Miller rushed out of the ICU doors. His scrubs were stained.

"Sylvia, Luna crashed," he said urgently. "Her cell count plummeted. We need to start the bone marrow stabilization procedure immediately."

"Do it," I pleaded, grabbing his sleeve. "Please."

"It requires a massive upfront fee for the specialized marrow transport," he explained. "We need the payment cleared in the next hour, or the donor center won't release the sample."

He handed me a printed invoice. The number at the bottom made my knees weak.

"I will get it," I promised.

Dr. Miller hurried back into the ICU.

I pulled out my phone and opened my banking app.

Balance: Forty-two dollars.

I navigated to my contacts. Kai's name sat at the top of the list.

My thumb hovered over the call button. I remembered him shielding Iris. I remembered the diamond bracelet on her wrist.

I pressed 'Delete Contact'.

The screen flashed, erasing him completely.

I sank onto the hard plastic waiting room chair. I buried my face in my hands.

How was I going to save her? Who could I possibly ask for this kind of money?

Footsteps approached down the quiet corridor.

They were steady. Expensive.

A pair of polished black oxfords stopped exactly inches from my worn sneakers.

"Sylvia?" a deep, resonant voice asked.

I slowly raised my head.

A tall man stood over me. He wore a perfectly tailored navy suit. His sharp jawline and piercing gray eyes were unmistakable, even after three years.

Jasper Vaughn.

The top art investor in the city. The man who bought my very first painting.

"Jasper?" I whispered, wiping the blood from my chin.

He crouched down to my eye level. He gently tilted my chin up, inspecting the dark bruise forming on my cheek.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, his tone dangerously soft. "And why are you crying in a hospital hallway?"

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