The Don’s Unchosen Daughter Became the Tennis Queen

It was pouring when I arrived at my family’s private hospital to visit Vivian.

I opened the umbrella from my bag, but a gust of wind flipped it inside out, sending rainwater down my collar.

A few feet away, my fiancé, Rowan, held an umbrella over Vivian while my brother gently supported her arm.

Only then did they notice me.

Rowan frowned.

““Elena,Why are you standing in the rain?Still sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

Vivian’s eyes immediately filled.

“Is this because of me? I’m not trying to take Rowan from you. I can give this up. Please don’t be mad, Elena.”

Rowan put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t say that. You know you’re not supposed to get worked up.”

He passed the umbrella to Cade, keeping it over Vivian, then came down two steps to stand in front of me.

He lowered his voice.

“You know there’s nothing going on between us.”

I hadn’t said a word.

Rowan continued. “I’ll just take her to dinner, see a few movies with her. Don’t make a big deal out of this. ”

“And what am I supposed to feel?”

Before he could answer, Vivian sneezed.

He turned at once.

Within seconds, he was beside her again, taking off his coat and draping it over her shoulders.

I’d bought him that coat last year.

He used to do that for me. Whenever I was cold after an outdoor practice, he’d wrap it around me, holding me close until I stopped shivering.

I remembered how safe I’d felt then.

Now I stood a few feet away, soaked through, watching him wrap my sister in his coat.

Rowan looked back at me.

“You’re healthy, Elena. She needs a little more patience from us.”

“And the wedding?”

“As soon as she’s doing better. We’ll get married. I promise.”

Rain struck my face. For a second, I almost laughed.

Three postponements, and somehow he still expected those words to mean something.

“Then you keep waiting,” I said. “I’m done.”

Cade gave an impatient shake of his head.

“There you go again. Why do you always have to compete with Vivian? She is sick. Can’t you think about her for once?”

For once?

My whole life revolved around Vivian. When had any of them spared even a second to think about me?

A black SUV pulled up beside the steps.

Father got out, his man carrying a long presentation case. He took one look at Vivian and spoke sharply to the attendant.

“Get her a chair. She shouldn’t be standing.”

Then he retrieved a cashmere blanket from the back seat and wrapped it around her.

All the time, I was still standing in the rain with my broken umbrella. No one cared to asked or offered a hand.

Father placed the long gift case in her lap.

Inside was a tennis racket with a white leather grip and a signature across the strings.

Vivian ran her fingers over the handle.

“Oh Dad! You actually got it for me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Father smiled. “I booked a private suite for the match next month. You’ll get to watch him play, then meet him afterward. Doctors come with us.”

I stared at the racket.

After Vivian’s diagnosis, Dad had ordered every racket I owned removed from the estate.

Even the cracked one from my first tournament win.

Because Vivian had cried whenever she passed my equipment room.

Now Dad held the case open so she could admire a champion’s signature. My throat tightened.

Vivian seemed to notice the contrast, too.

“Dad, will Elena be upset?” she asked softly. “I don’t want her to be mad at me. I just love tennis so much.”

Dad’s smile disappeared as he turned to me.

“Your mother hasn’t eaten in three days because of you. Instead of checking on her, you’re standing out here in the rain. What are you trying to prove?”

Mom had stopped eating to make me agree to let Vivian have Rowan.

I had spent those three days answering her calls, listening to her cry, being told that refusing Vivian meant I didn’t care whether my mother lived.

That afternoon, I’d finally given her the answer she wanted.

Apparently, I was still doing it wrong.

I wanted to ask what else they expected me to give her. Instead, I said, “Fine. Can you take me home?”

I was too tired of it all to argue anymore. I have a session with my coach in an hour.

Dad glanced toward the entrance.

“Vivian has another scan soon. The car needs to stay.”

“No one’s picking up rides out here,” I said. “And I can’t ride my bike home in this.”

“Then wait until the rain stops.”

He turned back to Vivian.

Cade gave me a hard look. “You should be here with Vivian. What could possibly be more important than your sister?”

I nodded.

“All right.”

Then I looked at Rowan. He was the only one who knew I was still training—and how much today’s session mattered.

Before he could speak, she clutched his arm.

“Rowan, I’m scared,” she whispered, trembling. “They always make the room so dark.”

He turned to her at once.

“It’s okay. I’ll be right there with you.”

He picked up the racket case while Cade helped her to her feet. Dad adjusted the coat around her shoulders and held the door open.

The four of them went inside together.

Nobody looked back.

I folded the broken umbrella and stepped beneath the canopy. Water dripped from my sleeves as I took out my phone.

There was a new email from Beaumont Tennis Club in Monaco.

When they’d first contacted me a year ago, Dad had refused to let me go.

“Reeds stick together. No daughter of mine is moving halfway around the world. Your place is here, in New York.”

I’d always dreamed of playing professional tennis. And every aspiring pro dreamed of a place at Beaumont.

When Mom heard I wanted to leave, she took to her bed, saying I’d made her sick.

“You’d abandon your own family? That’s not how a Don’s daughter behaves.”

Cade turned down the invitation on my behalf. He didn’t even tell me until afterward.

I cried for weeks.

But I didn’t give up. I kept training and entered the next round of tryouts without telling anyone.

I earned another invitation.

This morning, I’d finally accepted.

I opened the email.

Your place in our elite training program is confirmed. We look forward to welcoming you next Monday.

I booked a one-way flight and locked my phone.

In seven days, I’d be gone.

This time, I wasn’t asking for permission.