MasukThen you had better pray he blames the brace,not the woman whose symbol is on it” he said and moved away from me.
Don’t keep Mr Cole waiting…the private vehicle is waiting at the garage for you.After the board meeting,I sat at the massive conference seat,surrounded by stacks of legal binders, my fingers running through the contract paper Bronisław’s team had handed me. Every time I turned a page, a fresh wave of nausea hit my stomach.I was looking for a page where I could find a solution,something that could help me out of this situation."There has to be something," I muttered, my voice very low,as I read through each paragraph on liability indemnification. "He can't just assign a licensed medical professional like that,that violates standard European athletic board regulations."Kaja stood near the door, her dark eyes tracking me as she ran a hand through her unequal blonde bob."Sienna, I've been running the document through three different contract analysis algorithms since we left the boardroom,Bronisław didn't draft this overnight,he’s been refining these specific corporate clauses for months."
I stopped turning pages, my hand freezing over the paper."Months?" I looked up, "What are you talking about?""The meta data on the digital analysis ," Kaja said softly "The amendment Bronisław showed the board was one allowing Vance Sports Legacy to reassign your contract in the event of a liability claim which was uploaded to the corporate server four months ago. Long before Jaxson Cole ever stepped onto the field for the rivalry game."A cold, heavy knot tightened in my gut,my eyes became soaked with tears.Four months ago, my father had been dead for less than a year. Four months ago, I was still drowning in grief, blindly signing corporate restructuring documents because I trusted my uncle to preserve my father’s life’s work. I thought Bronisław was protecting the legacy. I thought he was shielding me from the mountain of administrative work so I could focus on the athletes.Instead, he was laying the bricks for my cage."He planned this," I whispered, the realization cutting deeper than any corporate betrayal. "He didn't just capitalize on a terrible accident. He built the net and waited for me to step into it."
"He sold you, Sienna," Kaja said , laying a hand on my shoulder. "To the Cole family. To our worst rival. He traded your career and your freedom to clear the company’s name and triple-market equity."
Tears rolled down my face,my father had trusted Bronisław. When my parents died in that terrible car accident a year ago, Bronisław stepped into our lives with comforting words, promises of family unity, and a firm grip on the company.
But now, Bronisław had auctioned me off to save his own guilt.
"I'm not going silently," I'll drag this into public arbitration."
"Look at subsection 12-B first," Kaja warned, whispering calmly "Before you start making demands."
Ifrowned, tracing my finger down the page until I hit the highlighted text near the bottom of section twelve. The font was tiny, crushed into a wall of dense legalese under the header Special Medical Performance Guarantees.
I began to read, my heart hammering a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs.
...In the event that the assigned lead therapist (Dr. Sienna Vance) fails to restore the athlete (Jaxson Cole) to full operational capability , or if the athlete suffers permanent mobility impairment during said recovery period…My eyes skittered across the next line, and my breath caught dead in my throat....all corporate liability protections shall be retroactively severed from Vance Sports Legacy and assigned exclusively to the lead therapist.Dr. Sienna Vance shall be held individually, legally, and financially liable for medical malpractice, gross negligence, and breach of professional ethics, carrying mandatory report to the International Sports Medicine Arbitration Board for immediate license revocation and civil asset forfeiture.
The paper trembled in my hand.
I read it once. Twice. Three times, hoping my eyes were playing tricks on me in the dim light of the library.It was a suicide clause.If Jaxson Cole’s knee never healed, a knee that had already been micro-fractured and structurally ruined before his fall,I wouldn't just lose my job. I would lose my license, my savings, my freedom, and my father’s name.Bronisław had constructed a legal air-lock: if Jaxson recovered, Bronisław took the corporate payout; if Jaxson remained permanently crippled, I took the entire blame, shielding Vance Sports Legacy from every penny of damages.
"He tied your life to Jaxson's leg," Kaja whispered . "If Cole doesn't walk again... you go down for everything. The brace failure, the sabotage, all of it.""And if I refuse to sign the transfer?" I asked, my voice barely letting out a sound.
"Then the secondary clause kicks in immediately," Kaja replied, pointing to a stamped red paragraph on the adjacent page."If Bronisław files an internal breach-of-contract lawsuit against you tonight. Your license is rigged with criminal inquiry into the brace firmware, and you will end up serving in jail ."
There was no way out. No legal loophole. No appeal process.I was trapped between a corrupt corporate empire that had raised me, and an arrogant, billionaire quarterback..A heavy knock echoed through the library, breaking the silence.The door opened, and two broad-shouldered security men in sleek, dark coats stepped into the room. Behind them stood Bronisław’s private assistant, holding a slim leather briefcase and a single plane ticket."Dr. Vance," the assistant said, his tone flat and unyielding. "The transport to the airfield is ready in the lower garage. Your personal luggage has already been loaded into the vehicle.""I need five minutes to collect my private medical kit," I said, keeping my head high, my jaw locked tight."You have three minutes, Doctor," the assistant replied, stepping aside to clear the hallway. "Mr. Cole’s estate does not like to be kept waiting."
I turned to Kaja whose face was so pale, reaching out to grab her arm firmly. "Stay in Kraków," I whispered, leaning in close so the guards couldn't hear. "Keep digging into those micro-fracture files. Find out who uploaded that firmware patch to my account. If I’m going to survive in those mountains, I need proof."
I'll find it, Sienna," Kaja replied "Just... be careful up there, Jaxson Cole isn't just a wounded athlete. He's a powerful man who thinks you intentionally ruined his life.
I didn't answer. I grabbed my leather coat, pulled my practical bun tight, and walked past the guards toward the dark elevator waiting to take me down to the garage.
Outside,I stood thinking of my life in Zakopane,as this is a chance with the devil himself.The floorboards beneath us vibrated violently.Radek instantly drew his sidearm, stepping in front of us, his radio bursting into a storm of static and frantic shouts."Boss, they didn't just cut the power!" a guard’s voice screamed through the speaker over the heavy chatter of automatic gunfire. "The black vans smashed through the lower security barrier, they are on the driveway"The radio transmission cut into high-pitched static.Out in the snow-covered courtyard, right outside the library windows, a blinding spotlight ignited, pinning us in its beam.Outside, the ragged chatter of automatic gunfire echoed sharply against the frozen pine trees of the mountain pass. The Vance tactical units had breached the lower gates. They were inside the perimeter.Yet, inside the dim, smoke-scented air of the library, the loudest sound in the world was the heavy, rhythmic thrum of my own pulse.He bought my contract to keep me safe.The words spun through my mind like a centrifuge, tearing dow
My heart trooped as I waited for him talk"She didn't need to connect to your uncle's servers to send him the files," Radek said softly. "This chip has been broadcasting her exact real-time location, every keystroke she’s typed, and every diagnostic scan she’s performed directly to Bronisław’s private desk in Kraków... since the day she packed her bags to come here."The tiny black square on the exposed motherboard seemed to pulse under the glare of Radek’s penlight.A hardware bug. Soldered directly into my machine.My breath rattled in my throat as the cold reality swept over me. Every night I hunkered over this keyboard typing out detailed physical evaluations of Jaxson’s knee, mapping his joint range, recording the microscopic progress of his tissue recovery Bronisław had seen it all in real time.He hadn't been waiting for me to send reports. He was harvesting them."It’s an active mirror," Radek said, his tone flat and unyielding as he pointed the steel tip of his prying tool at
The emergency red strobe light spun across the dark mahogany shelves of the library, casting long, bleeding shadows over the floorboards. Out in the driveway, the muffled roar of diesel engines signaled the arrival of the Vance tactical convoy, but in my chest, the real violence was happening in complete silence.They were going to erase him.Bronisław was taking twenty-four years of Jaxson Cole’s sweat, fractured bones, and relentless obsession, and sweeping it into a corporate dustbin on live television. And he was doing it using my hand to hold the broom."Sienna," Jaxson’s voice came out low, a grounded rumble near my ear. His fingers remained braced on my shoulders, his grip so firm it kept my knees from buckling under the sheer weight of the lie. "Look at the screen. What’s the protocol?""He’s lying to the league board," I said. The trembling in my vocal cords vanished, replaced by an icy, dangerous calm that surprised even me. My blood didn't run hot; it turned to slush. "He’s
The taste of Jaxson Cole was still on my lips,The sound didn’t come from the heavy timber doors or the wind howling against the triple-paned glass facing the Tatra slopes. It came from my tablet, resting face-down on the leather ottoman beside the hearth. A sharp, continuous ping the high-priority frequency reserved exclusively for the Vance Sports Legacy board.I pulled back, my breath hitching in my throat. Jaxson’s hands were still resting on my waist, his thumbs pressing firmly through the soft cotton of my sweater. For three seconds, his steel-blue eyes held mine, dark with a heavy, unfiltered hunger that had nothing to do with football and everything to do with the way my fingers had just been tangled in his blonde hair."Don't," he muttered, his voice a low, and vibrated against my collarbone. "Let it ring, Sienna.""It’s the executive line," I whispered, though my voice sounded paper-thin. My skin felt flushed, every nerve ending firing from the sudden warmth of his body pr
We had taken refuge in the grand estate library. Floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves lined with ancient leather-bound volumes enclosed the room, creating an intimate, insulated sanctuary against the blizzard raging beyond the stained-glass windows. On the central table, my laptop sat open beside Jaxson’s encrypted tablet, displaying real-time monitoring streams of Bronisław’s network activity and the fluctuating pre-market stock tickers. Jaxson stood near the hearth, staring down into the flickering amber embers. He had discarded his formal suit jacket and tie, leaving his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Even with the physical exhaustion carved into his sharp features and the dull, lingering ache in his patellar tendon, his posture radiated an immovable, magnetic power. I sat on the edge of the leather sofa, watching him. My body was physically drained from the terror of the past few hours the setup, the threat of arrest, and the so
I stood paralyzed in the narrow stone corridor, my fingers clutching the metallic casing of the encrypted micro-drive so tightly my knuckles throbbed white. Beyond the heavy oak mechanism that had just sealed shut, the muted shouts of federal marshals echoed down the primary hallway, their heavy tactical boots rattling the floorboards. Jaxson was out there right now, holding off the agents, putting his body, his reputation, and his remaining freedom on the line to buy me time. My chest heaved in shallow, ragged gaps as a sudden, suffocating wave of realization crashed over my entire existence. Bronisław. My own uncle. The man who had hugged me at my father’s bedside, the man who had solemnly promised to protect our family’s legacy after my father fell ill—he was the puppet master who had orchestrating my ruin from the very beginning. Every contract, every debt notice, every tearful phone call from my relatives begging me to sign away my freedom to Jaxson Cole had been a calculat







