DEFYING THE ROGUE CAPTAIN

CHAPTER FOUR: THE RULES WE BREAK

DEFYING THE ROGUE CAPTAIN

CHAPTER FOUR: THE RULES WE BREAK

The first thing Dr. Maya Vance noticed when she entered the training facility on Monday morning was the empty treatment table.

The second was Adrian Cross standing beside the window, dressed in his black training uniform, his arms folded across his chest and his expression dark enough to frighten anyone who didn't know him.

Unfortunately, Maya was beginning to know him.

And that was becoming a problem.

"You're early," she remarked, setting her medical bag on the desk.

"Couldn't sleep."

"That sounds like a personal problem."

His mouth twitched. "Good morning to you too, Doctor."

Maya ignored him and reached for her clipboard. "How's the knee?"

"Fine."

"Adrian."

"Still attached to my leg, if that's what you're asking."

She lifted her eyes to his. "Sit down."

He stared at her for a moment, apparently considering whether he wanted to challenge her authority before breakfast.

Then he sat.

Maya crouched in front of him and examined his left knee. There was still some tenderness, although he tried to conceal it by keeping his expression perfectly neutral.

"You trained yesterday," she said.

"Light session."

"Your definition of light and mine are clearly different."

"I didn't do anything reckless."

She pressed gently around the joint.

His jaw tightened.

Maya immediately stopped. "Pain?"

"No."

She looked up at him.

He looked away.

"You're a terrible liar, Captain."

"And you're annoyingly observant."

"That's why they pay me."

For a moment, neither spoke. The air between them carried the familiar tension that had followed them since their first examination.

Maya had spent years learning how to separate a patient's physical condition from her personal feelings. She understood that professional boundaries existed for a reason.

Adrian Cross, however, seemed determined to test every single one.

She stood and reached for the assessment form.

"You're not participating in full-contact training today."

His head snapped up.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"The team has a match coming up."

"And your knee has a problem."

"It's manageable."

"That isn't the same as being fit to play."

He rose from the table.

"Maya, I appreciate your concern, but I know my body."

"And I know injuries. Sit down before you make this conversation more unpleasant than it needs to be."

His eyes narrowed.

Most people backed down when Adrian looked at them like that. Maya had noticed it during team meetings. Players became quieter. Assistants suddenly discovered urgent appointments elsewhere.

She wasn't most people.

After a long silence, he let out a humourless laugh.

"You really don't know when to stop, do you?"

"Not when someone's health is involved."

Something shifted in his expression.

For one brief second, the arrogance disappeared, leaving behind something exhausted and uncertain.

Then it was gone.

"Fine," he said. "I'll skip contact training."

"Thank you."

"But I'm attending the tactical session."

"I never said you couldn't."

"And I'm not sitting on the bench during Saturday's match."

Maya closed the clipboard.

"That decision will depend on your progress, the specialist's recommendations, and whether you follow your rehabilitation plan."

He stepped closer.

"You're enjoying this."

"Enjoying what?"

"Being the only person in this building who can tell me no."

Maya met his gaze.

"Believe me, Adrian, I have much better ways to spend my mornings."

He smiled, but there was no real amusement in it.

"Somehow, I doubt that."

Before she could respond, the door opened.

Coach Bennett walked into the room carrying a tablet, his forehead creased with worry.

"Cross, I need you in my office."

Adrian straightened. "What's happened?"

"We've got a problem with the team."

The coach glanced at Maya before continuing.

"The club's board wants an explanation for your reduced training hours. They believe you're fit enough to participate fully."

Maya's stomach tightened.

"Who made that assessment?" she asked.

"The board received a report last night."

"From whom?"

Bennett hesitated.

"Someone claiming to have information about Adrian's condition."

Adrian's face changed.

"What information?"

"The report says your knee injury is exaggerated and that the medical department is keeping you out of training for personal reasons."

Maya stared at him.

Personal reasons?

The accusation was absurd, but she understood immediately how dangerous it could become. In professional sports, reputation could be as fragile as an injured joint. If the board questioned her judgement, her authority over the team could disappear overnight.

Adrian's voice turned cold.

"Who sent it?"

"We're trying to find out."

Maya reached for the tablet.

"Let me see the report."

Coach Bennett handed it to her.

As she read the first paragraph, her expression hardened.

The report contained details about Adrian's medical assessments that had never been discussed outside the medical department.

Someone had accessed confidential information.

Someone inside the club knew more than they should.

And whoever it was had deliberately chosen to attack both Adrian's career and Maya's professional reputation.

She scrolled to the final paragraph.

There, beneath the allegations, was a sentence that made her fingers go cold.

IF DR. VANCE CANNOT PROVE HER PROFESSIONAL JUDGEMENT, SHE SHOULD BE REMOVED FROM THE TEAM BEFORE THE NEXT MATCH.

Maya slowly lowered the tablet.

Adrian watched her carefully.

"What does it say?"

She handed it to him.

He read the paragraph once.

Then again.

When he finally looked up, the anger in his eyes had become something much more dangerous.

"Nobody threatens my team," he said.

Maya folded her arms.

"They just threatened my career, Adrian. I can handle my own problems."

"I didn't say you couldn't."

"Then don't turn this into one of your personal battles."

He moved closer, lowering his voice.

"You think this is only about your career?"

"What else would it be about?"

For a moment, he seemed ready to answer.

Instead, he looked away.

"Nothing."

Maya recognised the expression. It was the same one he wore whenever a conversation came too close to something he didn't want anyone to see.

She hated that she was beginning to wonder what lay behind it.

Coach Bennett cleared his throat.

"We have a board meeting tomorrow morning. Maya, you'll need to present your medical findings. Adrian, I expect you to cooperate fully."

"I will," Maya answered.

Adrian nodded.

The coach left them alone.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then Adrian reached for his jacket.

"You're not going to that meeting alone."

Maya frowned. "I don't need you to defend me."

"I'm not offering to defend you."

"Then what are you offering?"

He paused at the doorway.

"To stand beside the only person in this club who has the courage to tell me the truth."

Maya's heart gave an unexpected little flutter.

She immediately ignored it.

"Don't mistake professional respect for friendship, Captain."

His smile returned, slow and infuriating.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Doctor."

He walked out before she could respond.

Maya remained beside the treatment table, staring at the open doorway.

She had a medical report to prepare, a board to convince, and an unknown person to expose.

She absolutely did not have time to think about Adrian Cross.

Unfortunately, her thoughts seemed to have developed a stubbornness of their own.

And Adrian Cross was quickly becoming the one complication she couldn't diagnose.