All Chapters of The Last Strike: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Elizabeth’s POV:Why did I agree to take this job? When I read the headlines this morning, my phone immediately started ringing, and I shouldn’t have answered. Yet, here I am three hours later, fresh off the plane from Atlanta, cursing at myself mentally for saying yes.I stepped off the elevator and instantly caught a whiff of that all-too-familiar scent: sandalwood mixed with a smell that was distinctly his, Ashton F*cking Tate. I straighten my shoulders and push a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I whispered to myself, ‘You can do this, Lizzy. He’s just like any other athlete.”Now, as I head towards the office they’ve set up for me with him following behind, all I can think is ‘Sh*t. Sh*t Sh*t.’ The moment he turned, and I saw those eyes, the color of chocolate that looks almost black when he’s angry or horny, I instantly regretted my decision. I’ve seen plenty of images of him over the past five years, with his face constantly plastered on billboards, magazine covers, and cele

Elizabeth’s POV:I settled into my seat, trying my best to focus on the onslaught of messages and emails on my phone. Unfortunately for me, the man next to me was not going to take the hint and drop the subject.He continued to pester me with subtle remarks, probing for details he could undoubtedly add to his article. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, Ms. Mason, but haven’t you spent the past few months in Atlanta working your PR magic on Hawking’s shattered reputation? What brings you all the way to Chicago?”That question made me snap. “Cut the crap, James, you know damn well what my presence here means. Just like I know that you already have a scathing article about Tate written up and ready to go to print. You’re just searching for additional juicy details.”The smug smirk returned to his face. “I wouldn’t call it scathing, Elizabeth, merely factual.”“So you were an eyewitness to the events that took place last night? If you weren’t, then your article is hearsay rather than factual. I kn

Elizabeth’s POV:I dashed out of the locker room, running past Malcom, who was still standing outside, before anyone could say another word to me. I headed up the elevator to the executive floor, rushing into the office they had provided for me. Closing the door behind me, I fell to the floor in tears.How could a man I once loved with all my heart be so cruel? I understand him not being happy with his current situation, but to bring up my father in such a way when he’s only been gone two months. That’s truly despicable. He once claimed to love my father like his own, and yet he has no problem using his death to inflict emotional harm on me.I should quit. I should march straight into the owner’s office and tell him that Ashton Tate is beyond redemption. He’s a lost cause and should be sent packing.So, why am I sitting here hiding in this office, soaked in my tears? It would be so much easier to walk away and let him deal with the consequences of his actions.A knock on the door pull

Ashton’s POV:Did Lizzy become bipolar since the last time I saw her?One minute she’s referring to me as a jacka*s and the next she’s asking me what I want on a pizza. I don’t think any sane man could make sense of this woman.I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Malcolm.Ashton: [Dude, Lizzy insisted I stay with her due to all the press camped outside my building, but I’m not sure if I can survive this.]Malcolm: [You don’t have much of a choice if you want to keep playing ball. Would it help if I came over?]Ashton: [She did say that I could ask you to bring me some clothes. Can you please do that for me? I’ll have her send you the address and any code you might need to get into the building.]After I finished texting with Malcolm, I heard L

Elizabeth’s POV:When I arrived at my apartment building, the security staff informed me that a package had been delivered to me earlier that day. I immediately recognized the box because it was one I had packed myself. It contained some of my father’s keepsakes.I placed the box next to the bookshelf in the living room, knowing that I didn’t have the emotional strength to open it at that moment. Memories of sitting in my father’s house, packing up the box, flooded my mind. I didn’t need to open the box. I knew exactly what was in there. My heart ached for my dear, sweet father. I could really use his guidance right now.Though I have a feeling I know what he would tell me if he were here. He’d look at me with those sad eyes and say, ‘You need to overlook the past and help Ashton because he’s clearly struggling.’ If only it were that s