Chapter 3 : The Cage

"Never leaving?"

" I pushed Gavin's arm off the wall. "You don't own me."

"Nobody said ownership," he said. "I said ours."

"Same thing." I looked across all three of them. "I need my phone. I have to call my editor before midnight or I lose my column spot. Permanently."

Six months of building contacts inside this organization. Six months sweating through a foam mascot head and smiling at strangers and waiting for one real story. I was this close. And now I was standing in a penthouse being told I was never leaving.

Lucian crossed to me in four steps, lifted the phone directly from my hand, and powered it off.

"Hey." I reached for it.

He slipped it into his jacket pocket. "You're not calling anyone tonight."

"That is my career."

"That career has you passing out on sidewalks while pregnant with triplets." His voice was flat. Clinical. "The call can wait."

Zane had already disappeared through the archway into the kitchen. I heard cabinets opening, the solid thunk of a refrigerator door.

I looked at Gavin. He looked back, completely unmoved.

"I have a shift tomorrow at seven," I said. "The mascot contract pays my rent. If I miss it, I lose the contract. If I lose the contract, I lose building access. I need that job."

"You don't," Lucian said.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not putting that suit on again." He said it the way he called plays. Final. Already decided. "Your employment with the Fury organization as a mascot is over."

The floor shifted under me. "You cannot do that."

"I'm the head coach. I absolutely can."

No contract. No access. No story. No story means no byline, no income, no way out of the hole Derek buried me in when he torched my column. I moved to Miami with four hundred dollars and a plan. This was the plan. There was no backup plan.

"You are ruining my life," I said.

"We're fixing it," Gavin said. Like those were the same thing.

Zane reappeared with a bowl of pasta and a glass of water. He sat on the edge of the bed and held out the fork.

"Sit," he said.

"I'm not hungry."

"Half a granola bar. All day." His voice had no flex in it. "Sit down and eat, Malia."

I sat. I hated that I sat. He put the fork in my hand and watched until I took the first bite. The warmth hit my empty stomach so hard my eyes almost watered.

They were not fighting each other. That was the part that terrified me most. No posturing. No competition. No jealousy.

Just three walls building themselves quietly around me.

Gavin and Lucian stepped into the hallway and pulled the door to. Low voices I couldn't make out.

I looked around the room. Lucian's tablet sat on the nightstand.

One minute, I told myself. Just check if the editor responded.

I grabbed it and pulled up the browser.

The headline hit me like cold water.

EXCLUSIVE: MIAMI FURY LAUNCHES FULL INVESTIGATION AFTER LEAKED LOCKER ROOM PHOTOS. HEAD COACH AND TWO PLAYERS IDENTIFIED.

The photo was blurry but clear enough. The hallway outside the locker room. Three large figures. Me. The mascot bag on the floor, unmistakable.

Their careers. Their contracts. Their entire professional lives. These were elite athletes at the peak of everything. This kind of scandal didn't just make headlines. It ended seasons. It ended teams. It ended people.

The door opened. All three of them walked back in.

I turned the tablet around and held it up.

"You need to see this." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Someone leaked a photo. The organization is launching a full investigation. This is going to destroy everything you have."

Gavin went still. Zane's eyes moved fast across the screen.

Lucian looked at the headline for exactly two seconds.

Then he smiled.

Not warm. Not relieved. Something darker and far more deliberate.

"I know," he said.

I stared at him.

"Lucian." My throat tightened. "What did you do?"

His gray eyes held mine without a single flicker of regret.

"I leaked it."