Basketball was the only thing I truly liked. The only thing that made sense.Yeah, the team had its share of cocky, self-absorbed jerks—but damn, they could play.
"Leon! Great game," a couple of guys nodded and headed to the showers.
I had a whole hour to spare. Packed my things slowly. That fleeting feeling of freedom dissolved along with my shortness of breath.The court, the ball—they gave me a break. A breath of air. Freedom.
Two years left.If I could—I'd go pro.I think I could make it.Ha… Leon, get real. Two years, and that's it.Pathetic.
"You're not in the shower yet?"Ricky. Always popping up out of nowhere.
"I'm going. Wait by the exit."If he's already here, I'm late.
Can't miss it. Not tonight.
Those eyes. Icy blue.So cold they made me shiver.What the hell was I even doing thinking about them in the shower?Still… they were terrifying. Or maybe... magnetic.What the hell.
The shower cooled my body, but not my thoughts. My head was a mess.I needed a distraction. Party? The guys mentioned something. Perfect.
Ricky stood near the exit, staring into space.
"You good?" I asked, not just out of politeness. He was like a little brother to me. But I'm not the babysitting type.
"Yeah," he said calmly. "Just don't get why I have to go with you."
"Because you're my puppy. And I hate being alone."
"Why the hell would I want to watch girls in swimsuits with a pervert like you? Normal guys watch volleyball or gymnastics. You're into swimming. That's a diagnosis."
I smacked him lightly on the back of the head.
"Ricky, they're normal girls, not bodybuilders. With my height—186—I'll be fine."Talking crap was easier than explaining the real reason.
"Your usual seat is reserved."
VIP lounge—comfy chairs, snacks, drinks.At the 'San Eros' complex, during competitions, the atmosphere was electric: banners, yelling, nerves.Back when it was only elites here, none of this existed. Just studying, cramming, and prepping to inherit our parents' thrones.The merger changed things. For the better.
I made myself comfortable. But I wasn't here for the competition.I was waiting. For her.
"Ricky, which heat is she in?"He flipped through the program.
"Final heat. Lane four. 100-meter freestyle."
One hundred? Seriously? That's too short.Tonight, I'm getting drunk.
I didn't watch the heats.My eyes were locked on the locker room exit.
Why was I waiting?What for?
Just to see her—even for a second…
"Ricky, get me some wine."
"It's four in the afternoon! Go order it yourself! I don't have your privileges."
He tossed the card on the table.
"Tell them Mr. Leon wants it in VIP room four."
"Fine," he grumbled and left.
One glass.Another.The whole bottle.It didn't get me drunk, but it helped me loosen up.
And then—she appeared.
I saw her instantly.Tall. Graceful.She looked like she was swimming, even when walking.
I stepped closer to the glass.Far away, but I could see everything.
She took off her warm-up suit—and even that looked elegant.She wore her usual full-length racing swimsuit. Covered everything but her arms.
Always that one. I'd hoped today it would be something shorter.God, I'm such a creep.
The start.The dive.She moved like a song.Clean. Effortless.Turn.Seconds.Finish.
The buzzer.The screen: Hope Anderson.Of course. Always first.
She got out. Grabbed her towel. Left.That was it.
Thank you, Hope.That was... enough.
"Oh, look at him. Drunk and hugging the glass," Ricky mocked from his seat.
"You want a smack, shrimp?" I glared and finished the glass.
He joined me by the window.
"You know what her tattoo means?"
"Yeah. I know."A tree with a snake coiled around it. Everyone knows.She's the heiress of the Western Clan. The future queen of the underworld.That's why she doesn't study with us—only trains.
That's why my family is forbidden from any contact with hers.
"Leon…"
"Relax. I haven't even seen her face properly. Just her body. Her grace.I'm just a regular perv. Nothing more."He smirked.He knew.He always knew more than I said.
She has her future.I have mine.I just watch.Nothing more.
The Western and Eastern Clans are merging.The wedding of heirs.Old tradition.
I can't interfere.Any ties to the mafia would destroy everything my family built.So I just watch.
I get why she swims.In the water—she's free.Like I am on the court.But who cares?She's... beautiful.
"Ricky, let's go. Find out where the team's party is. I'll come."
"You drunk idiot! You downed a bottle! Wanna kill yourself?"
"Listen, brat. Two years from now, when I hit 23—it's over.Fun ends.I'm squeezing every drop out of what's left."
"I'm not coming. And don't call me if you're wasted. I won't pick you up."
He stormed off.
I've got a driver and security.I don't need you.If I fall, let the girls catch me.Not you.
Students poured out of the sports complex.Everyone talked about the competition, their captains, their champions.Four years ago—this would've been impossible.Now—it's real.
The wine hit hard.My head spun.I sat down.Where the hell was Ricky?
I just watched the stream of students.
Black hair... like a nightmare.Where…?I definitely saw her…
I jumped up.Scanned the crowd.
Where is she?
Seconds later—I found her.Walking toward the exit.Two steps away.
I grabbed her wrist.She didn't resist.Didn't pull away.
Took her to the staff wing.Closed the door behind us.
Well then...Let's play, little lamb.