Page 20 of Dirty Play

“And?” Damien and I say at the same time.

“And if she breaks it,” he continues, his tone as smooth as glass, “she’s gone.”

The idea hits me like a punch to the gut, sharp and undeniable. I hate how logical it is and how clean and simple he makes it sound.

“Jeez, Ares.” Damien snorts, shaking his head. “You don’t fuck around, do you?”

“It’s not personal. It’s tactical.” Ares doesn’t even look at him. His gaze is locked on me, steady. “She’s distracting our captain right before the pregames are about to start. She’s a threat.”

“You’re saying I should get her to cross the line?” I sit back, staring at him as his words settle.

The room seems to drop a few degrees, and even Damien, for all his usual antics, falls silent. Ares’ words hang in the air, dark and unyielding, like the man himself.

“The team’s not going to sacrifice their captain for some rookie PR agent,” Ares adds, his deep voice barely more than a murmur but carrying enough weight to feel like a hammer blow. “You know that.”

“It’s not a bad idea, Rowan,” Damien chimes in. “You might get a stern talking to for your part, but management would never let this reach the press. Meanwhile, your problem with Ms. Moody goes away.”

“She’s not stupid,” I say, testing the waters. “She’ll see it coming.”

“Then don’t let her,” Ares replies, his voice like a quiet dare.

Damien lets out a low laugh, shaking his head.

I don’t answer right away. My fingers tighten around the glass, and I watch the amber liquid swirl in the moonlight. The thought shouldn’t appeal to me as much as it does, but she’s already drawn first blood. And I don’t lose.

Ares watches me, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Push. Pull. Make her doubt her own footing. Take her hand and walk her to the edge. Have her step over it. And when she does…” he trails off, his lips quirking into something close to a smile.

“Let go,” I finish, the words feeling heavier than I’d like.

Instead of answering, Ares gives me a knowing look before leaning over to slide his glass toward him. This is why I’m glad I’m not on Ares’ shit list.

“To chaos.” Damien raises his glass, his grin returning with a sharp edge.

I don’t bother to toast. My mind’s already spinning with possibilities. Livia wanted to cross me. She wanted to see what I’d do when backed into a corner.

She’s about to find out.

Chapter seven

~LIVIA~

Ares Black doesn’t need to try to be intimidating—it’s his default setting.

He’s leaning against the edge of the armchair in my office, with thick arms crossed over his broad chest and a quiet storm in human form. Tattoos ripple over every inch of skin visible under his black T-shirt, climbing up his neck and even his hands. His pale blue eyes don’t just look at me; it feels like they’re trying to strip every layer until only my soul remains. It’s unnerving.

“Thank you for coming, Ares,” I start, clutching my clipboard. “I wanted to discuss an interview I’d like to schedule with you.Sports Illustratedwants to do a feature on the team. They’re focusing on player profiles, highlighting what makes each of you unique. And they specifically chose you and a few other key players.”

Ares just stares, unblinking. I press on, refusing to let his silence throw me.

“It wouldn’t be long, just a few minutes to discuss the upcoming season. You’re one of the fan favorites,” I add truthfully, hoping to sweeten the deal. “People love a good mystery, and you…well, you’re kind of the epitome of that.”

He huffs out a breath, almost a scoff, but not quite. He shifts his weight, tilting his head to the side, making a black strand fall over his left eyebrow.

“Okay,” he says, his voice deep and unbothered, like I’ve just asked him to pass the salt at dinner. “Send me the details.”

“Oh.” I blink, caught off-guard by how easily he agreed. “Okay. Great. Thank you.”

Ares doesn’t move. He just straightens his head, his pale eyes narrowing slightly, and for a moment, I wonder if I’ve somehow made a mistake.

---