The Billionaire Jock's Game of Love (Taylor and Aiden) novel Chapter 64

Chapter 64

Taylor’s POV

The headline hits like a slap i didnt see coming.my thumb hovers over the screen eyes fixed on the post. We’re fine.

Ella’s words sit beneath a glossy photo of her and Dylan his arm around her waist her hand splayed on his chest both of them smiling like none of it ever happened.for a heartbeat i cant move.the world seems to tilt the hum of my apartment blurring into a low static buzz.

the coffee in my mug has gone cold.my pulse is pounding so hard i can feel it in my throat.We’re fine. The phrase loops in my head, sharp and cruel. After everything–the screenshots, the accusations, the silence- she’s… back with him?

I zoom in. Ella’s smile doesnt reach her eyes.there is something stiff about it like a picture posed under pressure.A faint tension in her jaw. Her shoulders pulled too tight beneath her jacket.my stomach knots.

i have seen that look before the one people wear when they are trying not to break.

“God Ella,” i whisper. “What are you doing?”

The post is already spreading. My notifications light up with comments, DMs, news alerts. Everyone’s talking about their reunion.

The golden couple, back from the ashes.no one’s asking the question that wont leave my chest: what if she is being manipulated again?

i cant shake the thought.it digs at me through the afternoon like a splinter i cant reach.by evening frustration burns hotter than disbelief. I grab my laptop, shove papers aside, and pull up a contact list from the team’s media files.

Dylan’s former teammates, coaches, staff.names blur together but i focus on the ones who knew him well people who saw what went on behind the closed locker room doors.

the cursor blinks at the edge of the email draft.my hands tremble as i type.

“Hi, I’m Taylor, I’m currently assisting with a research project related to athlete behavior and team dynamics”

A safe lie. Professional enough to get them talking. I press send.

Then I start calling.

each ring feels like walking a tightrope between curiosity and exposure.my voice stays steady calm like im reading from a script.but underneath my heartbeat’s a drum.

Some players are polite, quick to deflect. “sorry cant help with that,” they say before hanging up.other hesitate offering vague phrases that say everything and nothing.

“Dylan always had a way with people.”

“he knew how to make things look right even when they werent”

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Chapter 64

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“Ella seemed… tired near the end.you could tell she was walking on eggshells.”

the more i hear the heavier it sits in my chest.

One former teammate finally cracks a little.his voice drops low and uneasy.

“look i probably shouldn’t say this but…they fought. A lot. Behind closed doors. He’d charm everyone one minute and then–flip. You didn’t see it unless you were close.‘

he exhales. “but you didnt hear that from me okay?”

i promise him confidentiality even though my throat feels like its closing.when the call ends i just sit there in the dark the glow from my laptop painting the room in pale blue light.

i sift through my notes rereading every scrap- quotes fragments half truths whispered by people too scared to be named.my pen scratches against paper as i underline a phrase: ” he knew how to make people believe what he wanted.”

its not proof. Not yet.but it is a pattern.

i lean back staring at the ceiling. “hes doing it again,” i whisper. ” and no one is stopping him.”

the air feels too still.outside a car horn blares sharp against the quiet.the city’s alive oblivious while my world tilts around the echo of one man’s lies.

i gather the papers and spread them across my desk.the pages flutter under the small desk fan like they are restless too.my reflection stares back at me from the window- tired eyes hair pulled into a loose bun the faint smear of coffee on my wrist.

日

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