Page 51 of Entangled With You

It’s only the ball, the goal, and me.

The ref hands me the ball, and I turn it around in my hands as I bend down to place it on the white penalty spot. Twelve yards separate me and my team from playing the Argentinian Women’s Soccer Final. I take three steps back, and one to the left. I only raise my gaze the moment the ref blows the whistle. We’ve played Rosario before—we’ve watched their games—so I know their goalie jumps eight times out of ten to the right, but I’m sure they’ve studied us too; I’m sure she knows I shoot to the left nine times out of ten. I start jogging toward the ball and get my left foot ready to shoot, but at the last moment, I decide to stop in my tracks and kick with my right foot instead. The goalie catches my move at the last minute and jumps toward the right, but she’s a second too late. The ball crosses the goal line, and the goalie falls to the ground. A deafening roar explodes in the stadium, and I take off running to meet my teammates in the middle of the pitch.

“Who are we?” I shout as Stefa hugs me.

“Golden Warriors!” the entire team shouts back.

“I can’t hear you. Who are we?” I shout louder this time, and the entire team replies, “The fucking Golden Warriors!”

I laugh as I start jumping up and down with the girls. We’re enjoying this moment, letting the euphoria of making it to the finals run through my veins. We need to release the tension of the game, and tomorrow we’ll focus on whomever won the other playoff match.

After a quick shower, I’m drying off in the locker room, and thinking about all the things I want Mati to do to me tonight when my phone pings with a notification. I bet it’s Mati. I can’t wait to jump his bones. I grab my phone and read what’s on the screen.

Unknown

It’s time to give up. You’ve made it to the final match. No one will blame you if your team loses. Do the opposite and we’ll hurt what you love the most.

I read and reread the text. What the fuck is going on? It’s like I’m suspended in time—I can’t make sense of what I just read. When I look around the locker room, everyone has their phones in hand, the same aghast expression on their faces.

Noelia is the first one to speak. “You guys, I just got this text.”

My eyes grow impossibly big. “No fucking way, I just got a text, too.” We all gather in the middle of the room. Passing our phones around, we find out we all got the same damn text.

“We need to call the police,” I say as Stefa asks, “What do we do?” A nervous chuckle escapes me, and Noelia takes charge of the situation.

“We’ve never experienced this before but it isn’t unheard of. Sadly, soccer betting moves tons of money. This must be an asshole who bet against us, even though we have the best track record this season.”

Now I’m even more confused.

“So if we have the best track record, why would someone bet against us?”

“Because if we lose, the payout will be greater.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. We are fucked.

“Okay well, I say we call the police, and we play our hearts out in that match. Why do we have to lose because an asshole decided to play God?” I say, and no one replies. No one agrees with me.

“What? What am I missing? You guys want to lose?” I press to get an answer because I need to understand where everyone’s mind is at the moment.

“I say we play the worst game of the season, and let this fly by. I'd rather not get in trouble,” Emma chirps in, and I look around to see how everyone feels about that. All I find is confused, sad faces. Fuck, we went from almost touching heaven to being in hell in the blink of an eye.

“We need to be smart about this. I say we sleep on it tonight, and we’ll take a vote on what to do on Tuesday after practice,” Noelia says. Since she’s the captain, everyone agrees and gets ready to leave.

Noelia looks at me as she releases a breath. “I know this is not what you want to hear, Cata. I get it, but we need to be smart here. If we call the police right away, this is going to be all over the news, and we will be in more danger. This wasn’t sent by an ordinary person. This must be someone with a lot of power.” She pauses for a second before she gives me a tired smile and continues. “Go find your man, and we’ll talk on Tuesday.”

She puts her right fist in front of me, and I pump mine with hers. Making my way out of the locker room, I see Romina talking with Mati, and I freeze. Can this evening get any worse? I fast-walk toward where they are standing, and I can tell Mati is upset, his voice raised in frustration.

“All I ask is that you be a decent human being, and respect my girlfriend's right to privacy. You’re welcome to write all that you want about the game, stats, and performance, but what Cattleya does off the pitch is none of your business,” he says in a stern tone. If I didn’t love him as much as I do, I swear my heart would explode right now from hearing him defend me so fiercely.

“That’s all very pretty talking, but as a journalist, I can write anything that I think the fans need to know. Since Cardona is the golden child this season, it’s what sells. So, I’m sorry, but I have to keep writing about her and her escapades.” Romina blows Matías a kiss as she leaves, and I see red.

I jog her way, and I’m about to yank her back by her hair when two very strong arms wrap around my middle, holding me in place. I jump up, kicking my feet, ready to fight him and go tell that woman to not mess with what’s mine, but I feel Matías’ chest shaking with silent laughter. I can’t help but join him.

“Matías, seriously. Let me go. I need to have a few colorful words with that woman. You won’t believe what I found out when I did a little digging.”

He turns me around and holds me tight against him. “What do you mean you did some digging?”

I take a deep breath, ready to spill the beans on the info Oscar, the private investigator the Bianchi family has on retainer, has found out. “Well, it just so happens that Romina was one of the founding members of all the media platforms to cover women’s soccer here in Argentina. She basically has all access to anything and everything she wants. The clubs pay her to feature them on her pages, and when a team refuses or she finds someone who pays better, she writes lies and twists the reality to her advantage. From what the PI told me, she’s in deep with the mafia. Basically, they are the ones orchestrating everything behind the scenes in the league. Whatever they do or say goes.” Mati is looking at me with a stunned expression. I should have warned him about all this before just spilling it out.

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