Chapter 11

After training at the rink, Nayeli returned home.

In the living room, her brothers were gathered around Lucia.

Lucia was in high spirits, making sure to announce just as Nayeli appeared: "Carlos said I can enter the figure skating trials too. I won't let Carlos down."

"Look at Lucia—she's the one who's going to win. No amount of hard work can beat natural talent. You'd better know your place, or you'll just end up looking like a complete fool."

The door slammed shut with a bang.

Miguel's face darkened, seething with anger.

Nehemiah remained silent, his gaze fixed on the closed bedroom door on the second floor, lost in thought.

"Stubborn as a mule!" Miguel cursed again.

"..."

Nayeli surveyed the chaos scattered across her room.

The desk drawer hung open, books strewn everywhere. She stepped inside and discovered nothing valuable was missing—except her figure skating training journal.

What perfect timing.

Nayeli didn't dwell on it. The techniques were already burned into her muscle memory anyway.

Between her recent practice sessions and constant improvement, she'd been dreaming about figure skating routines every night.

Someone could steal her practice journal, but they couldn't steal the effort she'd poured in day after day.

As the trials drew near, Nayeli practically stopped going to school, spending all her time at the training facility instead.

"Skipping class again?"

"Is she out of her mind? Even if her grades are decent, she can't just stop showing up."

"What's she trying to prove? She probably won't even get into college."

"Lucia's the one who's really diligent—she's never missed a single class."

"..."

Yasser met her in the hallway, taking her backpack and offering her a piece of candy.

She accepted it, unwrapping the paper and popping the amber candy into her mouth. The sweetness lifted her mood considerably.

"I've already spoken with your teachers. You don't need to attend classes this close to the trials."

Nayeli's lips curved lazily. "Thanks."

At the training facility, Nayeli laced up her skates. The blades had been sharpened even more than usual.

After warming up, she glanced toward Yasser, who stood watching from the rail outside the rink.

A sharp whistle cut through the air. Nayeli pushed off, gliding across the ice with long strides, weaving back and forth. Her edges switched with each stroke—now flying, now spinning, now leaping.

Yasser took notes from the sidelines.

Nayeli's core strength was impressive, and combined with her natural talent, these past two months had yielded remarkable progress.

Reviewing the training log and noting each improvement, Yasser blew another whistle.

Only then did Nayeli stop.

She glided over to the edge of the rink.

"Good. Your fundamentals are solid now. Even the most difficult combination jumps in the triple Axel sequence flow smoothly. You've overcome that balance issue, and your core strength has improved significantly. Most importantly, your details are rich—this time I could see a story in your performance."

"As long as you stay calm during the trials, you'll definitely stand out." Yasser handed Nayeli the training log.

Nayeli studied the notes, surprised by how invested he'd become. His eyes held a glimmer of admiration, like a crack spreading across a frozen lake.

Her heartbeat quickened.

"Got it. The competition's the day after tomorrow. I won't let you down." Nayeli's fingertips traced over the handwriting, a soft light warming her eyes.

Yasser watched her, his attention drifting for a moment.

The air between them grew thick with something unspoken.

He cleared his throat, his voice rougher than usual. "Keep practicing. I'm going to grab some water."

"Are you hot?"

The facility always kept the air conditioning on low to maintain the ice.

Nayeli wondered about this briefly before throwing herself back into training.

On competition day, Nayeli arrived at the arena to find Yasser waiting by the entrance.

He wore his usual all-black outfit, hands in his pockets, expression cool and unreadable. Passersby couldn't help but stare at this striking figure.

"Mr. Laurent." She waved, jogging over to him.

Yasser held out a piece of candy, teasing: "This is an actual competition now—no room for mistakes. Can't have you passing out again."

Nayeli flushed at the reminder. "I ate a huge breakfast this morning. No low blood sugar this time."

Yasser almost reached out to ruffle her hair, but reconsidered and pressed his hand against his thigh instead.

"Let's head in."

Inside the arena, spectators buzzed with anticipation from their seats.

"I heard Yasser Laurent is here watching!"

"The same Yasser Laurent who's won multiple World Championship gold medals?"

"He even competed internationally and brought glory to the country."

"Still, I'm more excited about the new talent entering the trials. I'm really rooting for Lucia."

"Oh yeah, her! I follow her on Insta—she's gorgeous..."

"Right? And apparently she has a brother on the national team."

"..."

The competitors waited backstage. The announcement system crackled to life, and someone headed out to the rink.

Nayeli had been sitting with her eyes closed, centering herself.

Then the speakers announced: "Lucia."

Nayeli opened her eyes to see Lucia in her skates and the competition dress Nehemiah and Miguel had bought her—a beautiful outfit with a blue swan design.

"That dress must've cost thousands of dollars."

Another competitor muttered enviously.

Nayeli stood and left the staging area, heading instead toward the spectator seats.

Lucia stood at center ice, the spotlight catching the shimmering blue of her dress. Ravel's 'Boléro' began to play.

She rose onto her toes, leaping gracefully across the ice. The choreography mirrored almost exactly the triple Axel routine Nayeli had been training.

Even the music choice was copied.

Nayeli had expected this. She didn't even blink, simply watching Lucia's movements.

"I'm the one who stole the choreography notebook from your room."

Someone claimed the seat beside her.

Carlos kept his admiring gaze fixed on the girl on the ice, his smile widening.

"Natural talent and pedigree will always trump hard work. With the same routine, only Lucia has the skill to truly captivate the entire arena. The outcome's already decided—the moment you step onto that ice, you've already lost." His mocking words cut like a blade.

But Nayeli kept watching, completely unfazed.

She observed as the girl's triple jumps grew increasingly strained, and the combination jump she'd added caused her to lose her center of gravity when the music stopped. Lucia crashed onto the ice, her blade slicing into her calf.

Blood stained the white surface.

The audience collectively gasped.

One of the judges couldn't help muttering: "Mediocre fundamentals attempting high-difficulty elements—she's just asking for trouble."

"The level is terrible. This year's competitors are all over the place. What a disappointment!"

Carlos's smile froze on his face.

Lucia, overwhelmed by pain and humiliation, burst into tears and put on a pitiful act, until staff led her away.

Competitive sports showed no mercy. That was exactly what Nayeli loved about them.

The announcement system echoed through the arena with her name.

"Nayeli."

Nayeli stood and walked toward the rink, her pristine white dress adorned with crystals. She closed her eyes, savoring the weight of the audience's attention.

The spotlight found her face.