CHAPTER FIVE

SOPHIA’S POV

Limping through the hallway on a broken foot isn’t on my list for the year, but here I am, all because a certain someone wouldn’t stop being an asshole. I groan inwardly with each step I take, and being in these heels makes it worse, but I have work to get done, especially on an important day like this.

Today was one of the big-shot interviews regarding the upcoming match with Devil Ice Boys.

Back when Victor had called me to ask if I would be able to make it or if I wanted a break, I knew he wanted to replace me, and I am not about to lose this chance. 

So I lie between my teeth and tell him how perfectly fine I am after the alleged fall I had in the bathroom. I don’t know why I didn’t tell them what exactly happened. Probably because they will take it as Rhett wanting me out. 

Worse, Rhett wasn’t in the hospital when I woke up. The doctor said he paid and left immediately.

That was two days ago, and still yet, there has been no form of apology from him. When our eyes met yesterday in a meeting with the manager, he acted as though we had never had an encounter before, and then he went on to practice till I left.

It stings that he doesn't deem it fit to apologize for something that could have killed me. 

Why am I expecting one from a man with a fragile ego anyway? 

It will be better to wish a horse could talk.

There are people walking around, and everyone is doing something or another. My eyes follow Victor and the two men walking with him, he moves his hand in the air as he speaks, before his eyes drift towards mine.

They roam over me. My heart freezes for a second. I can't tell what he is thinking.

“Glad you are better. Don’t forget to get the papers ready. One for me and the other for the press, okay.” He immediately returns his attention to them, and soon they turn around the corner.

I release a sigh, clutching tight to my bag. I had stayed up all night working on the document, and all I need to do is step in there and print it out.

Pushing the door open, I let myself in and drag in some air before pulling out the flash and connecting it with the laptop they had given me to use. Soon, I am standing in front of the printing machine, tapping my feet as it hums.

“You are here.” I turn around to see the door push open and the Janitor’s head sticking in. “The team wants you to get the stuff on this list.” He stretches it forward, obviously not wanting to step in.

Polite, if you ask me.

I make my way to him and take it. My eyes run over the handwriting.

Protein bars, sandwiches, and some fruits.

I nod, mutter a thank you, and watch him step back to close the door.

A sigh slips through. 

These were things they could get themselves at the supply room, but fine, I will do it. 

Returning to the machine, my fingers curl around each piece of paper before I pile them together and set them aside. Then I head out.

In minutes, I am facing the Locker room. 

I place a knock on it, my eyes dart around as I await a response, and after the second knock, it opens to reveal Owen. A moist smell is in the air, and I can hear the boys arguing over something and laughing.

Owen is dressed in a while singlet that highlights all his features, his broad shoulders, his moderate abs, and his Adam’s apple. The small cross tattoo on his left arm. His short pants frame his long legs well. A smile is parting his lips. His eyes move over me and land on the things I hold onto.

He looks good. They all do. 

Besides, he has always been so nice to me.

“Thanks.” He retrieves it from me, then adds. “Victor said you fell. How do you feel now?” 

I bit on my lower lip a little and peep into the room, and my heart skips a beat. Standing there behind him in a full frame is Rhett, and his face is squeezed in a frown, his brows meet in the middle, with his arms crossed around his chest. He is shirtless, and Nolan is standing before him, saying something.

His gaze sends a chill down my spine.

I look away, back to Owen.

“Yeah, better. I have…ummm….to go now.” I start to walk away after he nods.

By the time I get back to my office, my body is still shaking in fear. The trauma of almost being killed by him is still there. I gasp for air, my legs weak, and I hold onto the edge of the table.

“The interview is starting. The Assistant is to report to the room now.” An unfamiliar male voice rings through the room from the speaker attached overhead.

And I am jumping and picking the document. In seconds, my once shaky legs are steady, and I am scurrying through the building in the hope of getting to the interview room in time. The walk isn't long. 

“There you are.” A black haired female walks up to me and takes both. 

As my eyes trail her retreating, I breathe and let myself blend with the background. There are ten people in the room so far. The TV crew, Victor, the interviewer, and two pressmen.

The door opens, and the boys walk in to sit on the other side. I see Rhett dip his hands in his pocket, and luckily, he doesn't look my way.

The cameraman signals the camera rolling, and everywhere stays quiet. 

“Mr Victor. How do you feel about the team’s preparation for the upcoming match? Do you think they stand a chance?” 

The manager clears his throat. He is dressed in a black suit and a tie. It seems he has a new cut on.

“Confident, of course. The boys and I have come a long way, and I know they can pull this off. The resilience dwells in their strengths...” He pauses, his eyes lowering to roam over the document as he reads. “Every member of the team is important. The things I hat……” He halts, his eyes still roaming.

And I watch his face harden before he lifts his gaze and looks my way. 

Something thunders in my chest.

I watch one of the press glance at the document too and then shake their heads. Nolan gets up to take a look, and there is shock on his face when he looks my way. 

My lungs feel too compressed to release air, and the room becomes clearer. I can hear everything—the whispers. Victor’s eyes are still on me. 

I look from Owen to Ethan to every one of the team members because now Nolan hands it to them. Then finally, my eyes rest on Rhett. 

And he has a fucking smirk on.

“Did something happen, Mr Victor?” The interviewer asks. 

And the temperature of the room drops.

“Mr Vic….” His words fade as Victor gets up and storms towards him, his forehead creased.

“What is the meaning of this? Do you think we are a joke?” Victor’s neck veins pop out as he throws the document in my face, and my chest clenches when it falls.

With trembling hand, I bend and pick it up, and right there on the front page lies the one thing I never thought would get past my jotter.

My “The things I hate about the Asshole Team Captain’’ list. 

I feel the world tilt beneath my feet as sweat breaks on my forehead. I am so doomed.