Naomi Sterling grew up inside a career built before she was old enough to consent to it. Her father saw her forehand before he saw her, and by the time she was old enough to understand the difference, the difference no longer mattered — she was already the product, and he was already the architect. By twenty-four she has trophies, a sponsorship deal for nearly every hour of her life, and a smile she learned to hold steady in a mirror at fifteen because her father told her insecure players lose sponsors before they lose matches. Damon Ellery grew up on the other side of the same machine — talented enough to matter, blunt enough that it's already cost him two sponsors and half his goodwill with the press. The two of them have circled each other as rivals for three years, ever since a mixed exhibition where Damon inexplicably folded in the third set, right in front of the exact people deciding Naomi's next contract, and cost her the deal in the process. She has hated him cleanly for it ever since. What she doesn't know — what he has never once tried to explain — is that he lost that set on purpose, and that the reason reaches back further into her family than either of them has ever said out loud.