The Striker's Forbidden Love

Chapter Twenty-Three: On the Record

Mia didn't sleep much after the reporter's message. By morning, the words “I'd start figuring out who you can trust” had looped through her head so many times they'd lost all shape, just noise now, a warning without a face attached to it.

She told Daniel about it first thing, standing near the tunnel entrance before anyone else had arrived.

"An anonymous source." Daniel repeated, jaw tight. "Did they say anything else? Any hint at all?"

"Just that they seem to know a lot." Mia said. "Which could mean anything. Could be nothing. Could be someone bluffing to see if I'd panic and confirm something I shouldn't."

"Did you?"

"No comment. Both times." Mia said. "I'm getting good at those two words."

"They're becoming something of a personal motto." Daniel said, and there was the faintest, tired attempt at humor underneath the exhaustion in his voice.

Elena found them before practice started, tablet in hand, expression already braced for bad news. "The Herald's running their follow-up this afternoon. I can't stop that. What I can do is get ahead of it."

"How?" Mia asked.

"You're doing a press conference." Elena said, and Mia's stomach dropped instantly. "Controlled. Ten minutes, questions vetted in advance where possible, me standing right beside you the entire time. Better you speak on our terms than let a follow-up piece speak for you."

"I've never done anything like that." Mia said, panic creeping into her voice despite every effort to keep it out.

"You've done media training. You handled the scout situation well. You handled the sideline reporters after the Brantford match." Elena said. "This is bigger, but the skills are the same. Stick to the script we prepare, deflect anything personal back to football, and you'll be fine."

Mia wanted to argue. She didn't have anything solid to argue with.

The press conference was scheduled for two o'clock, in a small media room usually reserved for post-match interviews. By the time Mia walked in, every seat was filled, more reporters than she'd ever seen in that room before, cameras lined up along the back wall, the air thick with an anticipation that made her stomach twist.

Elena sat beside her at the table, a steadying presence even without saying anything. Daniel wasn't there. Elena had insisted on that, and privately, Mia understood why his absence was itself a kind of statement, deliberate and careful.

"We'll take a few questions." Elena said into the microphone, voice calm, controlled.

"Football-related first, please."

The first few questions were manageable training intensity, the upcoming match, how the squad was handling scrutiny as a group. Mia answered each one carefully, steady, exactly the way she'd practiced, watching the reporters' faces for any sign of the follow-up she knew was coming.

It came from a woman in the second row, recorder raised, voice sharp and unhurried.

"Mia, there's a story running today quoting an anonymous source close to the team, alleging a relationship with Coach Reyes. Can you comment on that directly?"

The room went quiet. Mia felt every camera in the room narrow its focus onto her face.

"I'm not going to comment on anonymous speculation." Mia said, voice steadier than she felt, exactly the line Elena had drilled into her an hour earlier. "What I can tell you is that Coach Reyes has built something real with this team, and that's where my focus is on football, on this squad, on the championship ahead of us."

"That's not really an answer." The reporter pressed, unwilling to let it drop.

"That's the answer I have." Mia said, holding her ground, hands folded tightly in her lap where the cameras couldn't see them shaking.

Another reporter jumped in before Elena could redirect. "Are you saying the allegations are false?"

"I'm saying I'm not going to discuss my personal life in a press conference about football." Mia said, something firmer entering her voice now, some instinct kicking in that felt less rehearsed and more genuinely hers. "I'd hope that's a reasonable boundary for anyone in my position."

A murmur ran through the room, not quite hostile, something closer to grudging respect. Elena leaned into her own microphone.

"We'll take two more questions, both football-related." Elena said, firm enough that nobody tested it.

The remaining questions passed without incident, and Mia walked out of that room ten minutes later with her legs shaking and her pulse still hammering, but with the distinct, surprising feeling that she'd actually held her own.

Daniel was waiting near the tunnel when she emerged, having clearly watched some version of the conference from wherever he'd been keeping himself out of frame.

"You did well." He said, voice low, careful even now to keep proper distance between them in the busy hallway. "Better than well."

"I almost threw up twice." Mia admitted.

"Couldn't tell." Daniel said. "You looked like you'd been doing press conferences your whole life."

"I had a good teacher." Mia said, managing a small, exhausted smile. "Terrifying scouting reports and all."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Daniel said, something warm slipping through the careful professionalism despite himself.

They stood there a moment, the hallway emptying around them, the adrenaline of the last hour slowly draining into something quieter, more fragile.

"I need to tell you something." Daniel said, voice dropping lower. "Owen came to see me an hour ago. Right before your conference started."

Mia's stomach tightened. "What did he say?"

"He thinks he knows who the source is. The one talking to the Herald." Daniel said, glancing around the hallway before continuing, voice barely above a whisper now. "He wasn't certain. But he had a name."

"Whose?" Mia asked, dread coiling tight in her chest.

Daniel hesitated, just long enough that Mia's heart started pounding before he even answered.

"Sofia."