Todos los capítulos de The Don’s Unchosen Daughter Became the Tennis Queen: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 9

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

The next morning, I went down to the tennis court.Since Vivian’s diagnosis, I’d had to leave the estate to practice in public courts, and kept my equipment out of sight.We had a perfectly good court. I just wasn’t allowed to use it.I set my phone against my water bottle to record my serves and opened my racket bag.Vivian was still at the hospital. No one would have to watch.For almost an hour, there was only the sound of my shoes against the court and the clean strike of the ball.Then I heard my name.“Elena?”Vivian stood on the terrace overlooking the court, Rowan’s coat draped around her shoulders. Mom was beside her. Cade carried her flowers while a guard followed with her luggage.Dad and Rowan came up behind them.“The doctor said Vivian could come home,” Mom began. “She wanted to settle into her new bedroom and—”Her gaze dropped to the racket in my hand, and her voice turned sharp.“What do you think you’re doing?”I lowered it.“Practicing.”Vivian pressed her fingers t

Hours before the gala, my mother was still expecting me.“Elena will be back to change. Leave her room alone.”Cade checked his phone.“She hasn’t answered anyone.”“She wants us to worry,” Mother said. “Don’t encourage her.”Rowan had sent me a photograph of the dress. That, apparently, was enough.“She knows where to be,” Rowan said.Vivian stood in front of the mirror while a stylist fastened her necklace.“What if she doesn’t come?”“She will.” Rowan straightened his cuff. “She’s angry with me. She won’t embarrass both families over it.”He knew how much I’d loved him. He was counting on it to bring me back.At the Gala, the first question came before they reached their table.“Rowan. I thought you were engaged to Elena.”Mrs. Bellini looked at Vivian’s hand tucked through his arm.“I am,” he said.“Then where is she?”“Joining us later.”Vivian’s fingers tightened, she tried to explain.“I’ve hardly been anywhere since I got sick,” she said. “Rowan thought tonight might be good fo

Over the next few months, my days filled with training, matches, and people who wanted to see me succeed.At Beaumont, nobody asked me to hold back for someone else’s sake.If I wanted an extra hour on court, my coach found me a hitting partner. If I won a practice set, someone cheered. When I struggled, we watched the footage and worked out how to fix it.Nobody suggested I stop because someone else might feel bad.I trained until my legs shook, ate dinner with people who understood why, and slept without keeping my phone beside my pillow in case Vivian needed something.For the first time, being tired felt good.My family never stopped trying to reach me.Mother’s emails came every few days.I miss you, sweetheart. I keep wanting to knock on your door.Cade wrote about Vivian.Her cards had been canceled. Dad had stopped her allowance and made her move out of the estate. She was expected to find work. Neither her tears nor her hand pressed against her chest changed his mind anymore.

Two years later, I walked onto center court knowing exactly what a win would mean.The title.The number-one ranking.Everything I’d spent my life working toward.My family sat in a private box above the baseline.Vivian was there, too.And Rowan.He looked older now, carrying his father’s authority without having to imitate it.But none of that mattered. I was one win away from becoming the world’s number one.On match point, my opponent drove me wide. I reached the ball and sent a backhand down the line, beyond her outstretched racket.I’d spent hundreds of hours working on that shot. Early mornings, empty courts, my coach feeding me one more ball when I thought I had nothing left.For a moment, I heard nothing.Then the stadium erupted.I dropped my racket.My hands went to my face, and I stood there crying while thousands of people shouted my name.I had won.I was the world number one.“Elena! Elena! Elena!”I covered my mouth, laughing and crying as the chant rolled through the