Kaya built the perfect quarterback to break her ex. She never expected him to steal her heart… again. After sacrificing everything to help her arrogant ex-husband Tom rise as captain of the nation’s biggest football team, Kaya is left humiliated and betrayed by her husband But Kaya isn’t just anyone. She is the hidden heiress of the very team Tom plays for and a Tech genius undermined by everyone, only known for her precise physics and game play. Determined to destroy him where it hurts most, Kaya uses her family’s cutting-edge tech to build Tom 2.0 a flawlessly handsome AI quarterback robot programmed to dominate the field… and drive Tom mad with jealousy. But when Tom 2.0 starts acting strangely, showing tenderness, jealousy, and even calling her by a name only one boy ever knew, Kaya’s world unravels. Because inside the steel and circuits is there a heart that beats? As secrets crack open and passions ignite, Kaya faces an impossible choice: Will she finish her revenge? Or risk everything to love what she thinks is a robot?
View MoreKaya POV
Kaya Williams, you are such a fool. The words repeat in my head over and over again. My eyes scan the room, reporters sticking microphones in his face, yelling question after question. “Alright, everyone. Let’s settle down before this goes out of control.” Tom smiles at the crowd; through the throng of people, his eyes land on mine. With disgust, annoyance, and a roll of his eyes, he turns back to the woman beside him, arms wrapped around Tom like he's the price. “I want to officially introduce everyone to my new fiancée, Riley Williams” he stretches her name, his eyes not leaving mine. The betrayal stings, and my heart breaks more than I thought it could when they first walked into the room. “New fiance" my mind grinds at the words, here I am, his wife of seven years, the woman who gave up her entire life for him, I helped him with his football career, with my brains and physics and with me by his side, he always made a goal, I always made sure of it. And today, just as he is about to hit it big, signs into the Lions football team, he betrays me.. For her? The team's doctor and the woman masquerading as me. My heart aches, but my fingers clench into my palm, my face turning pink, the tears fall from my eyes but my anger is worse. Tom thinks I'm just some orphaned girl with no money, replaceable, after all the years of giving him my love, being his faithful wife, protecting him from my uncle and father's wrath, defending him anytime they tried to drag me home to my birthright And today? He betrays me. “And yeah, everyone that's Kaya, my now ex-wife” he steps forward the crowd parting to me exposing my tear-stricken face to the cameras. Everyone holds their breath as he walks towards me, a pile of paper in his hands, he smirks, cold and brutal. “No hurt feelings I hope Kaya, I guess it was just never meant to be” his eyes twinkle under the flashing cameras. “Here you should sign these and right before I get back to the house, your bags should be packed and ready to go” he smirks, raising the pile of paper in his hands. “Tom-” I manage to crack out his name, my lips shaking and my heart sinking deeper than the ocean. He laughs, the deep sound I used to enjoy so much but now turned to me in mockery. “Don’t bother now Kaya, don’t beg, I can't accept a low life like you Kaya, I am now a major football star, with the best woman on my arm” he turns around to Riley, her arms crossed over her body. A sly smile on her lips He sends her a wink and turns back to me, his lip pulls into a wide smile and before I can love, the pile of paper is slammed in my face. I feel a sharp cut on my cheek as they flutter to the floor, the cameras capturing every moment as he abandons his wife, divorces her, and leaves her for a “better” woman He steps back, A snarky smile still on his lips, “You should go, don't let the door hit you on your way out” He turns around and just like that I melt into the crowd, Everyone watches on, flashing their camera at the drama as he heads to the table, Riley by his side, they start with the signing ceremony. I stand there left to pick up the pieces, I glance down at the piece of paper to see it’s our divorce, bitterness fills me at the betrayal. It stings more because I defended and believed in him much more than his own convincing mother, I was always there for him, I picked up the pieces anytime he failed, I worked numerous jobs to keep our home afloat, and I kept myself away from my luxury to be with him. And this is how I'm paid? I grab the piece of paper tightly in my grasp and turn around. He wants me gone? Alright But Tom Whinely, this will not be the last you hear from me. The drive back to the house is smooth, I still don't let the tears fall, I hold them back as my mind comes up with different ways to go about this. The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment block, the old building we were about to move out of, and into the luxurious penthouses they gift the top players. I slam the door behind me and sit right in the living room with my bags already packed right beside her is Tom’s mother. I breathe hard, her blonde hair shining in the morning sun. “Urgggh, thank God you're here, I've been starving” she whines standing up, throwing the magazine she was glancing through on the couch, She smiles at me like she and her son did not just con me. “Oh right, you're no longer our maid” she giggles stepping past my bags, “I'm guessing you have signed the divorce papers then?” She turns to the paper still in my grasp. “You are going to regret this” I snap, my eyes narrowed at her She steps back, her hand on her chest as she pants briefly, “Oh oh, I’m so scared” she mocks, laughing right after, “What can poor old Kaya do?” she laughs again like I'm some sick joke. “Sign the divorce papers and leave my son alone, I am tired of you leeching off him” She takes a threatening step towards me, eyes wide. “Me leach off him?” My frown deepens, “I am the one who has been helping him all these years, I've been on Tom and you beck and call for years!” My voice rise as I step closer to her She huffs rolling her eyes, “Well now we have someone better, someone bigger, the heiress of the Williams group, the same football team Tom is now signed to” Her voice booms across the apartment “Does that ring any bells?” she smirks “Soon my son, Tom will marry her and they will be the ultimate power couple, the football prince and his heiress" she sings songs with a wide smile, turning to me the smile fades “Now sign it or else-” she narrows her eyes at me.Kaya POV The morning of the game, I’m standing in front of the mirror in my hotel room, holding the jersey like it’s some kind of weapon I’m not sure I want to use. It’s crisp, new, the fabric soft against my fingers. Flynn’s number eleven is stitched in bold white across the back. My name is absent, but I know exactly who gave it to me. And I know exactly what wearing it means. The safe, logical part of me says to put it away and wear something neutral. I’ve spent years avoiding attention, slipping into the shadows, blending in. Even before Tom’s betrayal, I hated the spotlight. And after? The last thing I want is to be paraded in front of gossip blogs and strangers’ camera lenses. But there’s another part of me, the sharper, colder part that remembers Tom never let me wear his number. Not once. All the other football wives and girlfriends got their photo ops, their sideline moments, their claim to their player. Me? He didn’t want me “distracting from his image.” So, yes. Wear
Kaya POV The dinner ends with lingering chatter and the smell of grilled steak still clinging to my clothes. Most of the team filters toward the buses that will shuttle us back to the hotel, but Flynn lingers beside me as I pull on my jacket. “Walk with me,” he says, like it’s not a question. I glance at the buses idling across the street. “It’s late. And cold.” His mouth curves. “I run at five in the morning most days. I think we can survive a ten-minute walk.” Before I can come up with a reason to refuse, he’s already stepping toward the sidewalk. And because I’m apparently incapable of telling him no lately, I follow. The streets are quiet, just the hum of streetlamps and the occasional sound of distant traffic. My heels click against the pavement, his steps measured and easy beside me. We talk about nothing at first, the food, the way the rookie nearly fell out of his chair when Coach told him to slow down on the bread basket, how much better tonight was than some of the pa
Kaya POV The next morning starts thick with tension. We’ve got a joint practice with the rival team today, which means two hours of watching the guys size each other up like predators circling the same kill. The air around the field feels charged from the moment we walk out. I can see it in the set of their shoulders, the way the rival players throw those sharp, measuring glances at our guys. And, of course, Flynn notices everything, his gaze sweeping the field once before locking on the tallest of their defensemen. The warmup stretches don’t do much to soften anyone’s mood. The drills start, and within minutes, it’s all grunts and sharp impacts, bodies hitting hard and refusing to give ground. I keep my eyes on Flynn, watching the way he reads each play, how precise his movements are, almost calculated, but natural enough to pass as instinct. Tom’s got that same glint in his eye he always gets when he smells a chance to one-up Flynn. Every time he makes a decent block, he glan
Kaya POVThe knock at Flynn’s door still echoes in my ears as we head downstairs, the low hum of conversation from the other team mates rooms drifting through the hallway. My heart is still hammering, but I keep my face neutral, my steps even. Flynn walks just behind me, hands in his pockets, looking unbothered. Like nothing phases him. Like being caught in the middle of something the entire team will probably gossip about all night is just another part of his day. The coach’s meeting room is on the ground floor, right past the lobby. The door is propped open, voices spilling out into the corridor. When we push it open, every head turns at once. And, It is not even subtle. A few players glance at me, then at Flynn, then back again. Some try to hide their smirks, others don’t bother. I catch one of the rookies raising his eyebrows in that “called it” kind of way before someone elbows him. My grip tightens on the folder in my hand, but I keep walking toward an empty seat at the sid
Kaya POV By the time I get back to the stadium after scrolling past the blog for hours, the rumor mill is still spinning, except now, it’s not about me. The blog that trashed Flynn yesterday is gone. Not “took the post down” gone. Entire site. Crashed. Lily texted me a screenshot before it disappeared completely. Server error 504. Site unavailable. I’m still staring at the blank screen when I spot him outside, leaning against the side of the team bus, sleeves pushed up, hair falling a little into his eyes. Flynn. The sight of him instantly lowers the noise in my head. Which is dangerous. “You,” I say, pointing the phone at him as I walk closer. “Did you…?” I stop a few feet away eyes widening disbelief. “Don’t lie. Did you put a virus in the blog?” His mouth curves, slow and wicked. “Why, Miss Williams,” he says, like he’s tasting my name, “that would be illegal.” I cross my arms, my lip lifting slightlyin a teasing smile. “Flynn.” The smirk deepens, his voice dropping just e
Kaya POV The first thing I see when I walk into the facility the next morning is Tom’s smug face. He’s leaning against the wall near the lockers, arms crossed, a look that says he’s been waiting for me. His phone is already in his hand, the screen tilted so I can see the headline in bold, black letters. FLYNN FETCHER: IS THE NEW HERO HIDING SOMETHING? Underneath it, a grainy photo of Flynn mid-game, helmet in one hand, sweat running down his jaw, eyes locked on something off-camera. The caption underneath, “A perfect face with a missing past”. “Good morning to you too,” I mutter, brushing past him. Tom pushes off the wall, following me like a shadow. “Told you,” he says, voice dripping satisfaction. “Perfection cracks. Every time.” I stop at my locker, open it slowly, pretending his voice is just background noise. “And yet you’re still obsessed with him.” His smirk sharpens. “I’m not obsessed. I just don’t like frauds. Or the women who defend them.” I slam my locker
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