Page 155 of Scrum Heat

“You’re still young,” he says, as if that’s an answer.

And to him, maybe it is.

I stand slowly, my appetite gone. “Thanks for dinner.”

He nods. “Drive safe.”

And as I walk out the door of his perfect, expensive, emotionally bankrupt house, I realize something:

I’m not angry. I’m not heartbroken.

I’m just done waiting for applause that was never coming.

I know who I am, and this time, that’s enough.

*

The road back to Alderbridge rolls out in front of me—quiet, golden, too damn peaceful for the way my head’s spinning.

I should be thinking about Frankie; about the way she curled up under my arm last night, dead asleep with her cheek on my chest and her hand on my heart like it was hers. Instead, all I can hear is my father’s voice.

You could do more. You couldbemore.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. We just beat Denton Vale in front of a sold-out crowd. The club’s socials have blown up. I’ve got three bonded alphas and the woman I love wrapped in my pack.

And it’s still not enough, because I’m not pushing papers or giving press statements. Because I didn’t choosehisversion of success.

My phone buzzes in the center console.

CALL: RYAN // STRATEGY & DIGITAL - DAD’S OFFICE

I frown, swipe to answer, and put it on speaker.

“Ryan?”

“Hey, man. You got a second?”

“Driving, but yeah. What’s up?”

There’s a pause, and a rustle of papers or keys or something on his end. “It’s about the IP stuff. The accounts you flagged.”

“You found something?”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “I’ve been running deeper traces since you first sent me the list. Some of those burner accounts were more sophisticated than I expected. A few had layered proxies, VPN masking—someone put actual effort into hiding their trail.”

“But not enough.”

“Not enough,” he confirms. “I’ve isolated a cluster. Same device type, same traffic pattern. Same geolocation.”

I already know I’m not going home. “Where from?”

“...I’d rather walk you through it properly. With the logs and trace data.”

My turn signal’s already on. “You want me to come by?”

He exhales. “Yeah. Might be better if you see this in person.”

“I’m twenty minutes out,” I say, turning off toward the highway.

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