Elliot POV
The steel doors of the Redmoor Wolves training facility slammed shut behind me. The sound echoed down the long concrete tunnel, hard and final.
The air here was familiar: stale sweat, ice, bleach, and old leather. For six years this building had been the only place I felt completely in control. Today the hallway felt narrower. Every person I passed stopped what they were doing. Security staff. Equipment managers. Junior trainers. All of them had seen the noon press conference. All of them had seen the footage of Sebastian Wolfe pinning me against a table and claiming my mouth in front of fifty cameras.
I kept my chin level and my jaw tight. I wore a high-collared black training shirt under the team jacket. The thick fabric covered the fresh scent patch on my neck. Whi
