part 6 : between two storms

It started small. A brush of fingers when he handed her a bottle of water. A gaze held too long across the training field. Damien's charm was magnetic—untamed and a little dangerous. He started walking her home after her visits to the stadium, making it seem casual. Harmless.

"You smile more when I'm around," he murmured one evening, close enough for his breath to warm her cheek. "Don't deny it."

She did smile. She laughed. Damien had a way of making the world tilt just enough to feel exciting. Like she was a secret he wanted to protect—and ruin at the same time.

But someone else noticed.

Dominic.

He stood like a wall in the background. Always watching. Always silent. His eyes didn't plead. They demanded. He didn't speak of feelings—he didn't need to. His protectiveness wasn't warm. It was a warning.

And that tension boiled over.

It happened one stormy evening in the locker room. She was supposed to meet Damien. She didn't expect to hear raised voices behind the door.

"You like playing games?" Dominic's voice was low, deadly.

Inside, Damien leaned casually against a bench, smirking. "Maybe I just like winning."

Dominic lunged. Fists caught fabric, and Damien was yanked by the collar, their faces inches apart. The air was thick with rage. Possession. The kind of anger that came from loving something you feared you could lose.

Fiona burst in. "Enough!"

Both men froze. Their chests heaved. But their eyes didn't leave each other. And hers? She stood at the center of the storm.

"I'm not a trophy," she said, voice shaking. "I didn't ask for this."

She didn't. But a part of her had felt it coming—like being pulled into something dangerous and addictive. Their rivalry wasn't just about pride. It was about her.

Dominic stepped toward her. "I know. But I can't stop."

Damien's voice dropped. "Neither can I. She's worth the fight."

And before she could breathe, Damien moved. He reached for her face—not gently. His grip firm, tilting her head up. His lips crashed onto hers like a dare. Like punishment. It wasn't sweet. It was fire. Claiming.

Dominic's eyes darkened, fists clenched at his sides.

"You son of a—"

"I told you," Damien said, eyes still on her. "I'm not backing down."

Fiona's heart thundered. She stood between two storms, both ready to destroy each other for a taste of her.

And she? She wasn't sure she wanted to be saved.