STOLEN BY THE RIVAL QUARTERBACK

CHAPTER FIVE:THE TRAP(Sienna)

“Then you had better pray he blames the brace, not the woman whose symbol is on it,” he said and moved away from me.

Don’t keep Mr Cole waiting…the private vehicle is waiting in the garage for you.

After the board meeting, I sat on the massive conference seat, surrounded by stacks of legal binders, my fingers running through the contract paper Bronisław’s team had handed me. Every time I turned a page, a fresh wave of nausea hit my stomach.

I was looking for a page where I could find a solution, something that could help me out of this situation.

"There has to be something," I muttered, my voice very low, as I read through each paragraph on liability indemnification. "He can't just assign a licensed medical professional like that, that violates standard European athletic board regulations."

Kaja stood near the door, her dark eyes tracking me as she ran a hand through her unequal blonde bob.

"Sienna, I've been running the document through three different contract analysis algorithms since we left the boardroom. Bronisław didn't draft this overnight, he’s been refining these specific corporate clauses for months."

I stopped turning pages, my hand freezing over the paper.

"Months?" I looked up, "What are you talking about?"

"The metadata on the digital analysis," Kaja said softly "The amendment Bronisław showed the board was one allowing Vance Sports Legacy to reassign your contract in the event of a liability claim which was uploaded to the corporate server four months ago. Long before Jaxson Cole ever stepped onto the field for the rivalry game."

A cold, heavy knot tightened in my gut, my eyes became soaked with tears.

Four months ago, my father had been dead for less than a year. Four months ago, I was still drowning in grief, blindly signing corporate restructuring documents because I trusted my uncle to preserve my father’s life’s work. I thought Bronisław was protecting the legacy. I thought he was shielding me from the mountain of administrative work so I could focus on the athletes.

Instead, he was laying the bricks for my cage.

"He planned this," I whispered, the realization cutting deeper than any corporate betrayal. "He didn't just capitalize on a terrible accident. He built the net and waited for me to step into it."

"He sold you, Sienna," Kaja said, laying a hand on my shoulder. "To the Cole family. To our worst rival. He traded your career and your freedom to clear the company’s name and triple-market equity."

Tears rolled down my face, my father had trusted Bronisław. When my parents died in that terrible car accident a year ago, Bronisław stepped into our lives with comforting words, promises of family unity, and a firm grip on the company.

But now, Bronisław had auctioned me off to save his own guilt.

"I'm not going silently," I'll drag this into public arbitration."

"Look at subsection 12-B first," Kaja warned, whispering calmly, "Before you start making demands."

I frowned, tracing my finger down the page until I hit the highlighted text near the bottom of section twelve. The font was tiny, crushed into a wall of dense legalese under the header Special Medical Performance Guarantees.

I began to read, my heart hammering a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs.

...In the event that the assigned lead therapist (Dr. Sienna Vance) fails to restore the athlete (Jaxson Cole) to full operational capability, or if the athlete suffers permanent mobility impairment during said recovery period…

My eyes skittered across the next line, and my breath caught dead in my throat.

...All corporate liability protections shall be retroactively severed from Vance Sports Legacy and assigned exclusively to the lead therapist.

Dr. Sienna Vance shall be held individually, legally, and financially liable for medical malpractice, gross negligence, and breach of professional ethics, carrying mandatory report to the International Sports Medicine Arbitration Board for immediate license revocation and civil asset forfeiture.

The paper trembled in my hand.

I read it once. Twice. Three times, hoping my eyes were playing tricks on me in the dim light of the library.

It was a suicide clause.

If Jaxson Cole’s knee never healed, a knee that had already been micro-fractured and structurally ruined before his fall,I wouldn't just lose my job. I would lose my license, my savings, my freedom, and my father’s name.

Bronisław had constructed a legal air-lock: if Jaxson recovered, Bronisław took the corporate payout; if Jaxson remained permanently crippled, I took the entire blame, shielding Vance Sports Legacy from every penny of damages.

"He tied your life to Jaxson's leg," Kaja whispered." If Cole doesn't walk again... you go down for everything. The brace failure, the sabotage, all of it."

"And if I refuse to sign the transfer?" I asked, my voice barely letting out a sound.

"Then the secondary clause kicks in immediately," Kaja replied, pointing to a stamped red paragraph on the adjacent page.

"If Bronisław files an internal breach-of-contract lawsuit against you tonight. Your license is rigged with criminal inquiry into the brace firmware, and you will end up serving in jail."

There was no way out. No legal loophole. No appeal process.

I was trapped between a corrupt corporate empire that had raised me, and an arrogant, billionaire quarterback.

A heavy knock echoed through the library, breaking the silence.

The door opened, and two broad-shouldered security men in sleek, dark coats stepped into the room. Behind them stood Bronisław’s private assistant, holding a slim leather briefcase and a single plane ticket.

"Dr. Vance," the assistant said, his tone flat and unyielding. "The transport to the airfield is ready in the lower garage. Your personal luggage has already been loaded into the vehicle."

"I need five minutes to collect my private medical kit," I said, keeping my head high, my jaw locked tight.

"You have three minutes, Doctor," the assistant replied, stepping aside to clear the hallway. "Mr. Cole’s estate does not like to be kept waiting."

I turned to Kaja, whose face was so pale, reaching out to grab her arm firmly. "Stay in Kraków," I whispered, leaning in close, so the guards couldn't hear. "Keep digging into those micro-fracture files. Find out who uploaded that firmware patch to my account. If I’m going to survive in those mountains, I need proof."

I'll find it, Sienna," Kaja replied. "Just... be careful up there, Jaxson Cole isn't just a wounded athlete. He's a powerful man who thinks you intentionally ruined his life.

I didn't answer. I grabbed my leather coat, pulled my practical bun tight, and walked past the guards toward the dark elevator waiting to take me down to the garage.

Outside, I stood thinking of my life in Zakopane, as this was a chance for the devil himself.