Page 67 of Through the Flames
I wouldn’t save the program. No, I’d save Dom. Because saving Dom meant I could nail her down. It meant I’d be able to collect on these favors without her making me the villain.
With practiced keystrokes, I re-encrypted the most damning pieces.
Then, I compressed a curated packet, which framed the booster and Coach, leaving Dom out of the central spotlight.
And since information was valuable, and getting rid of my insurance would be fucking stupid — which, for the record,I wasn’t— I filed all the info about Dom away in a secondary folder.
Now, I needed to find out if there were any other players in the game already. I logged into an internal drop zone on a protected network, making note of who was already trying to access this data.
Leaning forward, my brows furrowed as I flagged an account. It was definitely Compliance.
They were already digging through the school’s records, cross-checking athletes and flagging inconsistencies.
Fuck.
They had already identified issues with the player files. I was fairly confident they’d make a mistake I could exploit.
To be absolutely sure, though, I slipped in some fake information to keep them spinning in circles.
Everyone was playing defense, while I was already in the fucking end zone.
Dom’s name would never reach the report.
Not if she complied, at least.
Blaze didn’t see it yet, but every option she thought she had was gone. One by one, I’d taken them off the board. Quietly and efficiently.
Now, the last one left wasme. Not the hero. Not the villain. Just her fucking destiny.
She would come to me the moment she realized the situation was beyond anyone else’s ability to fix.
And when she did — when she asked me for help — I would give her exactly what she wanted.
Dom would be safe, and her life would be intact. Everything would be swept under the rug.
All I’d ask for in return washer.
A simple deal, the kind she wouldn’t say no to because she knew I’d keep my word. Because she knew what I was, and somewhere, deep down, she wanted it.
I’d seen it on her face, fleeting but unmistakable.
I wouldn’t take anything she wasn’t offering, but I’d make sure the only thing she had left to offer was herself.
She thought I was a safety net, when in reality, I was her captor, ready to shut the cage I’d custom-built.
Digital manipulation only goes so far.
No matter how much I spun the Compliance files — medical records, eligibility reports, drug testing logs, eligibility clearances, flagged inconsistencies, cross-checked rosters, and internal audits — there were certain feeds I couldn’t touch: live access inside the system, real-time surveillance logs, and direct alerts.
This was where Sasha came in. If I wanted to stay ahead, I needed his eyes on the game.
Switching to the private, encrypted app, hidden away on my phone and protected with a passcode, I waited for the chat window to pop up on the blank screen.
There were no icons and no names. Just an “S” and a green dot flickering to life, indicating he was active.
S: Look who remembered I exist.
Hunter: Don’t get sentimental. I need something.
