Offside With My Enemy

Chapter 5

Angel’s POV

If there was one thing I hated more than Adrian Vale, it was the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about him.

It had been two days since I left his apartment, and I was still replaying that night in my head. Every time I remembered his hands around my waist or the way he had looked at me, I wanted to scream.

I had made a mistake. I knew that.

So why did I keep remembering how good it felt?

“Earth to Angel!”

Jessica snapped her fingers in front of my face.

I blinked. “What?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You've been staring at the same page for five minutes. Are you writing an article or composing a love letter?”

“Very funny.”

“I'm serious. What's going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Is this about Adrian?”

I nearly dropped my pen.

Jessica's mouth fell open.

“Oh, my God. It is!”

“Keep your voice down!”

She grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the far end of the media room.

“Angel Bennett, what have you done?”

“Nothing I'm willing to discuss.”

Her eyes widened further.

“You slept with him!”

“Jessica!”

She covered her mouth, struggling to contain her excitement.

I wanted the floor to swallow me.

“Please don't make this worse.”

Her expression softened. “Okay. I'm sorry. But are you all right?”

I looked down at my notebook.

“No,” I admitted. “I don't know what I was thinking.”

“Do you like him?”

“No.”

She gave me a look.

“I hate him.”

“Those two things aren't mutually exclusive, apparently.”

I walked away before she could say anything else.

Unfortunately, my problems were just beginning.

***

The club had arranged a charity event that afternoon, and I was expected to film Adrian interacting with supporters. I arrived early, determined to complete my assignment without another personal disaster.

Then I saw Malik.

He stood beside the entrance in a fitted black shirt, looking as though he had stepped out of a fashion magazine.

“There she is,” he said, smiling. “The most beautiful journalist in London.”

I laughed despite myself. “You say that to every woman.”

“Only the ones who make me forget what I was going to say.”

“That's a terrible line.”

“But you smiled.”

Before I could reply, he offered me his arm.

“Come on. Walk with me. I promise not to bore you.”

I accepted, partly because I enjoyed his company and partly because I needed a distraction from a certain arrogant footballer.

We had barely reached the refreshments table when Adrian appeared.

His eyes moved from Malik's arm to my face.

“Enjoying yourself, Bennett?”

“Immensely.”

Malik grinned. “We were just discussing dinner. She's agreed to let me take her out.”

I turned to him. “I haven't agreed to anything.”

“Not yet.”

Adrian's jaw tightened.

“How fascinating.”

“Jealous, Vale?” Malik asked.

“Of you? Don't flatter yourself.”

“Then you won't mind if I take her out.”

Adrian looked at me.

For one dangerous second, I thought he might say something about our night together.

Instead, he smiled coldly.

“Why would I mind? Angel is free to make her own decisions.”

I hated him for sounding so reasonable.

I hated myself even more for feeling disappointed.

“Exactly,” I said. “I am.”

I walked away before either man could respond.

Behind me, Malik laughed.

Adrian didn't.

***

The charity event was almost over when I noticed a woman watching me.

She was elegant, dressed in a cream suit, with perfectly styled dark hair and the sort of smile that never reached her eyes.

I recognized her immediately.

Victoria Hale, Blackthorne FC's communications director.

The woman who had handled the club's public statements during the scandal that ruined my father's career.

“Angel Bennett,” she greeted me. “I've been meaning to meet you.”

“I'm surprised you remember my name.”

Her smile remained fixed.

“Of course. Your father was a respected coach.”

“Was he?”

Something flickered in her eyes.

“I'm sorry about what happened to him. It was an unfortunate situation.”

“An unfortunate situation that cost him his career.”

“I understand your feelings, but sometimes people make mistakes.”

I held her gaze.

“Is that what you call it?”

Her smile disappeared for a fraction of a second.

Then she leaned closer.

“Let me offer you some advice. Your documentary is about Adrian, not your father. Don't confuse personal grievances with professional responsibilities. It could damage your reputation.”

My fingers tightened around my camera.

“Is that a threat?”

“It's a warning.”

She straightened her jacket.

“Enjoy the event, Miss Bennett.”

I watched her walk away, my pulse racing.

Six years ago, Victoria Hale had stood before the cameras and defended the club's decision to dismiss my father. Now she was warning me to stay away from the very story that had brought me here.

That couldn't be a coincidence.

I took out my phone and sent Jessica a message.

*Find everything we can about Victoria Hale and the investigation into my father's dismissal.*

Her reply came almost immediately.

*Already on it.*

I slipped my phone into my bag.

For the first time since accepting the documentary, I felt I was getting somewhere.

Then I heard my name.

“Angel”

Adrian stood a few feet away, his expression unusually serious.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Victoria.”

My heart skipped.

“What about her?”

He glanced towards the exit before looking back at me.

“She approached you, didn't she?”

“How do you know?”

“Because she's been asking questions about your documentary since you arrived.”

I folded my arms.

“And you waited until now to tell me?”

“I was trying to find out why.”

“Or you were trying to protect the club?”

His face tightened.

“Not everything is a conspiracy, Angel.”

“No. Just the things you don't want me to discover.”

I turned to leave, but he caught up with me.

“Listen to me. Whatever you think of me, don't trust Victoria.”

I stopped.

“Why?”

He hesitated.

That hesitation told me more than his words could have.

“Adrian, what aren't you telling me?”

He looked around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear us.

“Six years ago, your father wasn't the only person who was blamed for what happened.”

My breath caught.

“What does that mean?”

Before he could answer, a voice interrupted us.

“Adrian, I've been looking everywhere for you.”

Victoria approached with a bright smile, but her eyes were fixed on me.

“Angel, I hope you haven't been troubling our captain with old stories.”

Adrian moved between us.

“Leave her alone, Victoria.”

Her smile vanished.

For a moment, the three of us stood in silence.

Then Victoria looked at Adrian with an expression I couldn't understand.

“You should be careful what you tell her. Some secrets are better left buried.”

She walked away.

I turned to Adrian, my heart pounding.

“What secret?”

He said nothing.

“Adrian!”

He finally met my eyes.

“The night your father was dismissed, I saw someone leave his office with a file that could have changed everything.”

My mouth went dry.

“Who?”

His expression was grim.

“Graham Shaw.”

Our manager.

The man who had testified against my father.

I struggled to breathe.

“Why didn't you say anything six years ago?”

Adrian looked at me as if he had been waiting for this question for a very long time.

“Because I wasn't the only person who saw him.”

“Who else was there?”

He opened his mouth to answer.

Then his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, and all the colour drained from his face.

“What is it?” I demanded.

He turned the phone towards me.

An unknown number had sent him a photograph.

It showed my father standing outside Blackthorne FC on the night his career ended, holding a thick brown envelope.

Beneath the photograph were eight words.

**ASK ADRIAN WHAT HE DID WITH THE ORIGINAL RECORDING.**

I looked up slowly.

Adrian was staring at the message, his face unreadable.

“What's the original recording?” I whispered.

He didn't answer.

And suddenly, I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

Because whatever had happened six years ago, Adrian Vale had been hiding more than an apology.

He had been hiding evidence.

And if that message was telling the truth, the man I had slept with might be the very reason my father had never been able to clear his name.