The Rival I Should Never Love.

The first time I caught my boyfriend cheating, forty thousand people watched it happen live. The second mistake was his—looking me in the eyes and telling me I was nothing without him. The third was mine: I opened that locker-room door. “We’re live in three, two...” ​My producer’s voice cut through my earpiece, but I wasn’t looking at him. I was staring through the c***k of the VIP locker room door, where my boyfriend—Empire State’s golden-boy team captain, Ethan Cole—had his hands buried in the hair of Nora Carpenter. ​ Nora Carpenter had been my rival long before she became Ethan's mistress. The heiress was pinned against the whiteboard, leaving her lipstick all over his face. “Ethan, hurry,” Nora said, catching her breath and laughing in a mean, mocking way. “Your little sports influencer girlfriend is right outside taking pre-game footage.” ​ “Let her record,” Ethan growled, pulling her back into a bruising kiss. “Seraphine only exists to polish my image anyway. She doesn’t own me.” ​My fingers ​squeezed my expensive camera so hard that the plastic frame made a cracking sound. I was good at controlling narratives. I just never imagined I'd become the story. I wrote his news updates, controlled his public image, hid his heavy late-night drinking, and helped him whenever his career was in danger. I didn't cry. I didn't freeze. The blood in my veins turned straight to ice. ​I stepped away from the door, shoved my producer out of the way, and flipped my wireless microphone onto maximum gain. ​“Seraphine? What are you doing? We go live in ten seconds!” my assistant panicked, reaching for my arm. ​I kicked the VIP locker room door wide open. The heavy door hit the concrete wall with a loud bang that sounded like a gun, and the noise echoed down the tense tunnel. Ethan jerked back, his jersey half-unbuttoned, while Nora calmly wiped her mouth, a smug, cat-like grin spreading across her face. ​“Seraphine—” Ethan’s face went pale, his usual golden-boy charm instantly shattering. “Wait. It’s not what it looks like—” ​ “Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” I said, stepping directly into his personal space. Before he could raise a hand or think of another smart lie, I used all my strength to slap him hard across the face, making a loud cracking sound. CRACK. The hard hit shook my whole arm. Ethan’s head jerked to the side, and a red handprint quickly showed up on his cheek. Nora gasped, her smug expression finally breaking into shock. ​“That’s for three years of my life wasted on a coward,” I whispered; my voice was clear and terrifying. ​Ethan lunged forward, his eyes burning with sudden humiliation, his hands reaching to grab my wrists. “You b***h—do you have any idea what you just did to my career right before kickoff?!” ​ “I didn't just ruin your career, Ethan,” I said, raising my phone screen to his face, where my live stream was still running, the comment section moving so fast the text was a blur. “I broadcast it live,” I said. I turned around quickly and walked away, leaving him alone in the middle of his ruined life. I was so angry that I could barely see as I ran down the narrow, rainy stadium tunnel. The roaring crowd above sounded like thunder, but the only thing I could hear was my own heart beating fast. I wasn't looking where I was going—I just needed to put distance between myself and the betrayal. ​I turned the corner toward the visiting team's entrance at full speed and slammed straight into a wall of solid steel. ​The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. My camera flew from my hand, shattering against the concrete floor. A pair of powerful arms caught me around the waist before I hit the ground. “Watch out,” a deep, rough voice said above me. I looked up quickly, breathing very hard. ​Standing over me was Kaiden Black. ​He was wearing the black-and-red Pacific Coast jersey; his six-foot-three-tall body blocked out the stadium lights above us. Rainwater dripped from his dark, messy hair down the sharp jawline. But it was his eyes that made me freeze—they were sharp, ice green, and had no fear or kindness in them at all. Kaiden Black, Pacific Coast University's most dangerous player. The striker who had once been considered one of the country's best young talents. Until everything went wrong. Two years in prison. A manslaughter conviction. A career destroyed before it had even started. Some people called him a murderer. Others said he had been framed. Nobody knew which story was true. I had only ever seen him from behind a camera. Until now. “You’re bleeding, influencer,” Kaiden said, his thumb brushing a drop of blood from my lip where Ethan's belt buckle had grazed me. He didn't pull his hand away. ​ Before I could say anything, I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway behind us. “Seraphine!” Ethan yelled, running around the corner. His sports shirt was messy and his face was full of pure anger. He froze the moment he saw who was holding me. “Get your filthy, ex-con hands off my girl, Black.” Kaiden didn't flinch. He slowly shifted, pulling me slightly behind his massive shoulder, shielding me entirely from Ethan's sight. ​“Your girl?” Kaiden asked, his voice low and deadly as he looked at my ex with his sharp green eyes. “Looks to me like she belongs to whoever she wants. And right now, Cole... she’s standing with me.” Ethan's jaw tightened. Kaiden's eyes returned to him. Something passed between the two men. History. Hatred. Challenge. The stadium erupted above us. The referee was calling the teams onto the field. Ethan pointed at Kaiden. “You don't belong here.” Kaiden slowly looked toward the stadium. Then back at Ethan. “Neither does your reputation.” Ethan's face darkened. “Enjoy your last game, Black.” Kaiden's mouth curved into the faintest smile. “I plan to.” He walked past him toward the field. Then stopped. Without looking back, he said, “Try not to embarrass yourself in front of forty thousand people, Cole.” Ethan stared after him. I stared too. For the first time that night, I wasn't thinking about my broken relationship. I was wondering who the hell Kaiden Black really was.