Page 221 of King of Pain
No. Fucking. Way.
Staring back at me, gleaming in brushed silver and matte black acrylic, is signage for an agency that should have been years off.
Pacini & Evers Sports Talent Agency
The name is etched in elegant, modern typeface. It’s clean. Sleek. Professional. Right there in the lobby of what served as tonight’s pop-up gallery space.
It’s now a headquarters.
People are whistling. Clapping. Cheering. But I can’t hear any of it properly because the sound in my head is just a stunned, howling wind.
I turn to Chance, wide-eyed. “What did you do?” I manage, voice thick. “What is happening? I can't—are you crazy?”
Chance grins, but there’s something soft in it. Something vulnerable.
He steps closer, cups the side of my head.
“Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, eyes locked on mine. “I’m crazy.”
Then he leans in and presses a tender kiss to my lips.
“Crazy for you.”
TRACK SIXTY•SIX
Faith
Chance
The crowd fades into background blur. Champagne glasses clink and music thumps under the buzz of conversation as I lead Ant down the stairs, off the stage, and into a quiet corner tucked behind one of the exhibit partitions. My fingers are laced tight in his, grounding us both.
I turn to him, still catching my breath from the speech, the surprise, this night, all of it.
“Say something, Beautiful,” I whisper, searching his face. “Please.”
His expression’s unreadable—shocked, maybe. Teary. His lips part but no sound comes out. I panic a little. Maybe this was too much. Maybe I’ve overstepped in the biggest possible way.
I try again. “Is all this okay? Did I... overdo it?”
Ant finally shakes his head and exhales. “No,” he says. “I just—I don’t know what to say.”
I squeeze his hands, but my pulse won’t settle. I wait.
He looks at me again, voice rough. “How did you even do this? This wasyearsaway, Chance.”
I rub up and down his arms, trying to settle him. “I had help,” I admit softly.
Ant nods, looking around the room, eyes glassy. “This is amazing, but—”
My stomach drops. There it is. The “but.” The part where I screwed up.
“I’m not experienced enough,” he says quickly. “I can’t fund this. I don’t have clients. I don’t know how—”
His breath starts to pick up and I can see the spiraling begin. Shit.
“Hey, hey,” I say, stepping closer. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”
Right then, like the universe threw me a parachute, Meg appears. I blink. It's the first time I’ve seen her tonight.
