CH9

Kira Vance (POV)

The cheers after the match still echoed in my ears.

But as soon as I walked off the court, I was stopped.

"Come with me." Mrs. Vance stood at the end of the corridor, her voice cold as ice.

I still held my racket, palms covered in sweat.

I knew I couldn't avoid this.

The locker room door slammed shut with a "bang," the air instantly pressing down.

Mrs. Vance turned around and stared at me. "Are you proud of yourself?"

I didn't speak.

"You won one match and think you're a player?"

She advanced step by step, high heels striking the floor like a countdown. "Kira, have you forgotten how you came to the Vance family?"

My fingertips slowly tightened.

Of course I hadn't forgotten.

Back then, Director Eileen who had cared for me got sick.

Late-stage stomach cancer.

Surgery and treatment costs were like a mountain, crushing the entire orphanage until it couldn't breathe.

It was the Vance family who paid, covering all the expenses for me.

That day, Mrs. Vance sat in front of me, her tone gentle to the point of seeming merciful. "Come with me, and Eileen will survive."

So I came to the Vance family.

Ostensibly as an adopted daughter.

In reality, to repay a debt.

As Ethan's practice partner, training with him, growing up with him, helping him win.

All these years, I had turned myself into a tool. Everyone only remembered: "Ethan's practice partner, the Vance family's adopted daughter."

No one had ever asked who I was.

"Speak." Mrs. Vance's voice suddenly pressed down.

"You made the entire Vance family a laughingstock today."

I looked up, somewhat sardonic. "Why is it a laughingstock?"

She was stunned.

I heard my own voice trembling, but didn't stop. "I won."

"I won on my own."

"Why does that make you feel ashamed?"

Her expression instantly darkened: "Because you're not worthy."

Her words still stabbed in like knives.

My throat tightened, but for the first time I didn't retreat. "Then who is worthy?"

"Vera?"

"Ethan?"

"Or those people who were born with qualifications?"

"And I, just because I'm a practice partner, will never be worthy to stand on the court?"

Slap—

A hard slap landed.

I turned my head to the side, my cheek instantly burning.

The air froze.

Mrs. Vance's breathing was heavy, but her voice even colder. "Don't forget who raised you."

I slowly turned my face back, eyes burning but I didn't cry. "What you raised was a tool, not me."

Just then, the door was pushed open.

Adrian stood in the doorway. He saw my reddened face, his footsteps pausing.

The next second, the warmth in his eyes completely disappeared.

He walked in, very slowly, yet the pressure in the entire room dropped. "Are you finished talking?"

Mrs. Vance laughed coldly. "Adrian, this is Vance family business."

"You'd better not interfere."

He stood at my side, didn't look at her.

Just stared at the handprint on my face, his voice terrifyingly low. "You hit her."

The air instantly tensed.

Even I could feel the anger he was suppressing.

Mrs. Vance raised her chin. "She belongs to the Vance family. How I discipline her is not your..."

Adrian looked up indifferently, interrupting her: "She was never your property."

Mrs. Vance's expression was ugly. "You're opposing the Vance family for a practice partner?"

He glanced at me, his voice certain. "She's not a practice partner, she's a player."

My chest shook violently. No one had ever said this sentence with such firm conviction.

Mrs. Vance stared at him, laughing coldly: "Why exactly are you protecting her like this?"

"What is she to you?"

The air went quiet for a second.

Adrian looked at her, his gaze cold and devoid of warmth. "That's none of your concern."

"..."

Mrs. Vance's expression completely darkened.

She gave me one last look. "Kira, you'll regret this."

After speaking, she slammed the door and left.

Bang—

The entire locker room went quiet again.

My tense nerves relaxed, my body suddenly unable to stand steady. Adrian reached out to support me. "Does it hurt?"

I shook my head.

But the next second, tears suddenly fell.

All the grievances I'd suppressed over the years flooded out like a deluge.

I didn't even have time to think before I reached out and hugged him. I buried my face in his chest and cried out loud. "Why..."

"Why do they always think I'm not worthy..."

Adrian obviously stiffened.

His hand stopped in mid-air, as if unaccustomed to such closeness.

But a few seconds later, that hand still descended.

Gently patting my back, once, then again.

The motion was awkward, yet tender.

"Cry." He said. "This time you don't have to hold back."

I cried even harder.

That night, I sat by the dorm.

I had won, proved myself.

Yet suddenly felt even more lost.

If I continued forward, I would have to completely betray the past.

Betray the Vance family.

But if I went back, I would become that person without a name again.

What did I really want?

I was very confused. I looked up to see Ethan walking toward me. "Let's talk."

My mind was in complete chaos at the moment, but I still nodded at him.

We walked to the outdoor viewing platform. The wind was strong.

He was silent for a long time, then suddenly spoke: "Yesterday when you won, I was very happy."

"Really."

Ethan's gaze was complex. "But after you won, the first person you looked at wasn't me."

"It was Adrian."

"Kira, didn't you always look at me before?"

I was stunned by his question.

Yes, from when did Ethan and I seem to no longer be as close as before?

His voice was hoarse. "In that moment, I was really jealous."

I was at a loss. "Ethan..."

"Do you understand?" He stared at me, his eyes reddening. "All these years, we've always been together."

"I've long been used to having you with me, used to seeing you when I turn around."

"Kira," he stepped closer, his voice trembling, "I never only thought of you as a practice partner."

"Kira, I need you."

"Not training needs you."

"I need you."

"Do you understand what I mean?"

I completely froze.

I had never imagined I would hear these words from Ethan.

I finally understood—what I wanted was never to be "needed," but to be seen. As Kira the individual, to be seen. But Ethan's feelings—at this moment I felt annoyed at my own obtuseness.

I didn't want to hurt him, instinctively evading. "Ethan, you'll always be my friend."

"I don't want to be your friend." Ethan was very agitated. "Kira, you understand, don't you? I love you, I really love you."

He laid it completely bare. I could no longer avoid it, only saying softly: "Ethan, I'm sorry."

His face instantly went white. "What do you mean?"

"I can't return your feelings."

"Why?" He suddenly grabbed my wrist. "Is it because of Adrian?"

"No."

"Then why?" He finally lost control. "We grew up together!"

"You've been with me all these years!"

"I'm clearly the person you care about most!"

"Ethan, can you let me go?" I tried to soothe him like before.

"I won't let go." His voice carried panic. "Kira, don't leave me."

"You used to hug me, comfort me, stand by my side..." He said, reaching out to pull me into his arms.

Like when we were children.

But this time, I didn't move toward him.

I was very flustered, didn't know what to do.

"Ethan,"

Just then, a cold stern voice came from the night. "Let her go."

Ethan's motion suddenly froze.

I looked up.

Adrian stood in the night, his expression terrifyingly cold.

He walked closer step by step.

Each step was like pressing on one's heart.

Ethan didn't let go, instead gripped tighter, staring at Adrian warily. "This is between her and me."

Adrian stopped in front of us, his gaze landing on Ethan's hand gripping my wrist, his voice low. "I said, let her go."

The air was like a string instantly pulled to its limit, suddenly taut.

Ethan stared at him. Adrian also stared at Ethan.

Neither retreated.

I was caught in the middle, even my breathing chaotic.

The next second, Ethan suddenly swung his fist, heading straight for Adrian.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter