The heavy brass handle on my front door snapped downward.

I did not wait. I lunged for the balcony, ignoring the shards of broken glass slicing into my palms. The rusted metal of the fire escape groaned under my weight as I scrambled down into the damp alley. Above me, the sickening crash of my front door giving way echoed into the morning air.

They were inside. My home was gone.

I ran until my lungs burned. I had only one destination.

The Apex Club.

Ethan always spent his pre-game off-days hiding in the VIP lounge. I knew the service entrance code. I knew the bouncers' shift changes. I knew every detail of his life because I had managed it for five years.

I pushed through the heavy velvet curtains of Booth Four.

"Ethan."

He did not flinch. He did not look surprised. He sat sunken into the plush leather sofa, a glass of expensive bourbon resting in his hand.

His other hand gripped the bare thigh of a blonde woman sitting across his lap.

Olivia Montgomery.

Her father owned the largest sports broadcasting network on the East Coast. She was sports royalty, a billionaire heiress wrapped in designer silk.

"You look like a stray dog, Lynn," Ethan sneered, taking a sip of his drink.

"They breached my apartment," I said, my voice trembling with raw fury. "A mob chased me out of my own home."

"Security is slacking today," Olivia murmured. She traced a manicured fingernail down Ethan's chest, not bothering to look at me. "Who let the help in?"

"I need you to call off your fans," I demanded, stepping closer to the table. "Tell them the truth. Now."

Ethan laughed. A harsh, grating sound that bounced off the soundproof walls. "The truth? The truth is you are a liability."

"I spent five years building you!" I shouted. "I covered up your DUIs. I negotiated your contracts. I paid your rent during your rookie season when everyone else gave up on you!"

"You did your job," he shot back, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "And I outgrew you."

"By feeding me to a mob?"

"By upgrading." He gestured lazily toward Olivia. "Do you know what her father handed me this morning? A prime-time documentary spot. A shoe deal with a global brand. You could never secure that."

My stomach violently twisted. The realization hit me like a physical blow. "So you threw me under the bus."

"You were in the way. Olivia did not like the rumors about us."

"There were no rumors until your PR team planted them!"

Olivia smiled, a thin, cruel curve of her lips. "I told him to clean house. A rising star cannot have a nagging, desperate agent dragging him down. The obsessed stalker angle worked perfectly."

"You planned this," I whispered, staring at the man I thought I knew. "Both of you."

"It is just business," Ethan stated flatly.

"They are threatening to kill me, Ethan!"

"Change your number. Move to another city. Stop being my problem." He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. "In fact, I am making sure of it right now."

"What are you doing?"

"Releasing my personal statement." He turned the screen toward me.

I read the bold text plastered across his official social media page.

*I am deeply disturbed by the obsessive behavior of my former agent, Lynn Moore. I have filed a restraining order to protect myself and my loved ones from her relentless harassment.*

"You filed a restraining order?" My voice cracked.

"It makes the stalker narrative official," he replied, pocketing the device. "My fans will love it. The sponsors will pity me. And you will disappear."

"You absolute monster."

He stood up, towering over me. The easygoing charm he sold to the cameras vanished, replaced by a calculating, ruthless glare.

"I am a brand, Lynn. A multi-million dollar asset. You are a disposable employee who forgot her place."

"I made you."

"I made myself. You just held my coat." He snapped his fingers toward the shadows near the entrance.

Two massive security guards stepped out from the hallway.

"Get this woman out of my sight," Ethan ordered, turning his back to me. "If she comes within fifty feet of me again, call the police."

"Let go of me!" I yelled as heavy hands clamped onto my shoulders.

"Goodbye, Lynn," Olivia chimed in, resting her head against Ethan’s shoulder. "Good luck finding a job in this industry."

The guards dragged me backward. I thrashed against their grip, kicking at their shins, but they were too strong. They shoved me through the back exit, tossing me out into the cold morning air.

I hit the concrete hard, scraping my knees against the rough pavement of the parking garage.

The heavy steel door slammed shut. The lock clicked, sealing me out.

I sat on the freezing ground, staring at the blank metal.

My career. My reputation. My safety.

All destroyed in a single morning by a man I had protected with my life. He did not feel an ounce of guilt. He looked at my ruined life and saw nothing but a stepping stone for his ambition.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out with shaking fingers. A new email notification flashed on the cracked screen.

*Sender: Legal Department, Montgomery Broadcasting Network.*

*Subject: Notice of Defamation Lawsuit.*

They were not just ruining my reputation. They were coming after everything I owned.

Before I could even open the message, tires screeched against the concrete.

A sleek black town car rolled to a stop mere inches from my feet.

The tinted back window glided down silently.

A man in a sharp charcoal suit stared at me from the shadows of the backseat. His eyes were ice-cold, assessing my battered state with zero pity.

"Get in, Ms. Moore," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Unless you want to go to jail tonight."

"Get in, Ms. Moore."

"Stay away from me!" I yelled, stumbling backward away from the black town car.

I spun around and sprinted down the alley. I ran until my legs gave out, collapsing onto a freezing metal bench at a deserted bus stop.

My cracked phone vibrated instantly. A news alert flashed across the screen.

"Ethan is a true gentleman," Olivia Montgomery’s voice echoed from the device the second I tapped the link.

She sat on a pristine white studio couch, dabbing the corners of her dry eyes with a tissue. Ethan sat close beside her, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

"We are just close friends," Olivia told the morning show host, her voice trembling with practiced perfection. "It absolutely terrifies me to see him targeted by such an unstable stalker."

"You never had a romantic relationship with your former agent, Ms. Moore?" the host asked, leaning forward.

"Never," Ethan replied into his microphone. "I am completely single. My only focus is bringing a championship to this city. Lynn fabricated a fantasy in her own mind."

"She claims she built your career," the host pressed.

"She was an employee," Ethan stated flatly. "She booked my flights. I played the games. When I rejected her inappropriate advances, she turned hostile. Her delusions became dangerous."

"Olivia, how are you handling this?" the host asked.

"I just want Ethan to be safe," Olivia sniffled, resting her head against his chest. "No one deserves to be harassed for simply doing their job and being a good person."

I threw the phone onto the bench.

He played the innocent, pure national boyfriend. She played the terrified, supportive confidante.

Olivia manipulated the narrative flawlessly, erasing her role as the other woman and crowning herself the ultimate victim.

I grabbed the phone again. The live comment section moved at lightning speed.

*Protect Ethan at all costs!*

*Throw that crazy bitch in an asylum.*

*Olivia is so brave for standing by him.*

*I heard Lynn tried to poison his food when he rejected her.*

They swallowed every lie. The entire internet turned into a weapon, and Olivia held the trigger.

I opened my contacts and dialed David Dawson. We started in the mailroom together five years ago. He owed me his career.

"Do not call this number," David answered on the first ring.

"David, I need a favor. Put me in touch with the crisis management team at your firm."

"My firm just issued a company-wide memo," David whispered harshly. "Your name is on a permanent blacklist. No one is allowed to speak to you."

"You know Ethan is lying! You were there when I bailed him out of jail!"

"It does not matter!" David snapped. "Olivia's father threatened to pull broadcasting rights from any agency that associates with you. You are dead in this industry, Lynn."

"I have rent to pay. I have legal bills coming."

"Go work at a grocery store. Actually, don't. A fan will probably recognize you and burn it down."

"David, please."

"Lose my number."

The line clicked dead.

I called my former mentor, Greg.

*Voicemail.*

I called three different rival agents I used to drink with.

*Blocked.*

*Blocked.*

*Number disconnected.*

I was entirely alone. Exiled. Five years of blood, sweat, and favors, erased by a billionaire heiress and a lying athlete.

I stood up from the bench and walked blindly down the sidewalk.

"Hey! You!"

I stopped. A young girl in a blue Ethan Carter jersey marched toward me from the crosswalk.

"You're that stalker," the girl spat, her face twisting with disgust.

"Back off," I warned, stepping to the side.

"You make me sick!" She hurled her iced coffee directly at my chest.

The plastic cup bounced off my collarbone. Freezing liquid soaked into my shirt, dripping down my stomach.

"Leave our captain alone!" the girl screamed. "Homewrecker!"

I wiped the ice from my chin. "He is lying to you."

"Shut up! Olivia is a saint! You're just jealous garbage!"

Several pedestrians stopped, pulling out their phones to record.

I turned and ran. Arguing was useless. The truth did not matter anymore. The world had already decided my sentence.

I didn't know where my feet were taking me until the smell of stagnant water hit my nose.

The city riverbank.

The wind whipped my wet hair across my face as I approached the concrete ledge. Gray clouds mirrored the dead weight in my chest.

I walked past the yellow warning signs.

Dark, freezing water rushed aggressively below the barrier.

My phone vibrated one last time. I looked at the cracked screen.

A text from an unknown number.

*Go jump off a bridge, you ugly parasite.*

"You won, Ethan," I whispered to the empty air. "You both won."

I let the phone slip from my fingers. It hit the water with a soft splash, sinking instantly into the murky depths.

No home. No career. No friends. A looming defamation lawsuit that would put me in debt for the rest of my life.

I stared down at the swirling current. It looked peaceful. It looked like an immediate end to the suffocating humiliation.

I stepped up onto the metal railing.

The freezing wind pushed against my back, urging me forward.

I closed my eyes, leaning my weight over the edge.

"Take one more step, and I will make sure Ethan Carter attends your funeral with a smile."

A voice cut through the wind. Deep, cold, and right behind me.