part 5 : triangle of fire

Fiona hadn't meant for any of this to happen. She'd only come to watch the game, to enjoy the rush of excitement that filled the stadium, the roar of the crowd, the sharp focus of the players. But as the night wore on, the two men on the field turned her world into a battleground of its own.

Paris sparkled under the floodlights, but Fiona felt cold. The energy of the stadium pulsed around her, but she was frozen—torn between two fires that were far too hot to touch without burning.

Dominic was a wall of power and control. Tall, strong, a fortress in goal. His every movement was precise, calculated. And his eyes? They were locked on her, unyielding, like she was the only thing that mattered in the whole stadium. His gaze was more than just admiration; it was possessive. Protective. Dangerous. When he looked at her, she couldn't help but feel like she was marked—like she belonged to him, even if she didn't want to admit it.

But then there was Damien.

Wild, unpredictable. The chaos in his play was mirrored in his approach to life. Fast, reckless, and full of charm. His grin was cocky, his eyes always alive with mischief, but when they met hers, there was softness. Something underneath the showmanship, something raw and sincere. It was as if, in that moment, the game didn't matter. He saw her, and only her. And the way he looked at her made her feel like the calm he craved, the peace he could never find on the pitch.

But neither man was willing to step aside. Neither was willing to let go.

After the match, Damien approached her, his voice low and teasing, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Come with me," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, his touch sending a shiver down her spine.

Before she could answer, Dominic's presence was there—his arm sliding around her waist, possessive and commanding. "No," he said, his voice hard as steel, his tone leaving no room for argument. "She's not going anywhere."

Fiona's heart thundered in her chest, caught between the two men. It wasn't just the tension—it was the weight of being wanted, of being fought over. And God, she didn't know if it was fear, thrill, or the intoxicating realization that she had the power to bring these two forces to their knees.

In that moment, as both men glared at each other, as their eyes burned into her, Fiona knew one thing for sure. This wasn't a passing game. This was just the beginning. A game of power, desire, and domination that neither Dominic nor Damien were willing to lose.

And she? She was caught in the middle, unable—and unwilling—to choose.