"I'm sorry, Valentina," my coach said. "But the final roster has been confirmed. There wasn't a mistake." I stood outside the administration office for almost five minutes, staring at the sheet taped to the board. My name was gone. Under the National Ice Training Grant, where Valentina Moretti should have been, was Bianca Bellini instead. My first thought was that something had gone wrong with the roster. Then I saw the Romano family guarantee stamped into the review column, and I understood Dante Romano had done it. He had made his family people alter the files and take my spot from me. When I found him, he was leaning against an armored car, scrolling through his phone. He saw me and only flicked ash from his cigarette, squinting at me through the smoke. Two family guards in black suits stood beside the car, silent as walls. "Bianca lost her protection," he said before I could even open my mouth. "Her stepmother's side owes money in Jersey and Boston. If she doesn't get that national grant, she's finished." "You're strong. You can fight your way into the East Coast Ice Trials on your own." "That national grant comes with a fully funded place at the Olympic Ice Training Center, housing, and training covered," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "You know what that means to me." I stared at him. He looked everywhere except at my face. Then he sighed, reached into his wallet, and pulled out a black card stamped with the Romano crest. He held it between two fingers, like he was tipping a valet. "Fine. Listen. I'll pay for your training. Coaches, rink fees, equipment, all of it. Consider it me buying the spot from you. Are we good now?" The rain started. I looked at the card in his hand. Then I looked at his face. He used to tell me that if I trained hard enough, I could leave my ruined family behind, leave this dirty, chaotic place controlled by mafia power, and step onto a bigger stage where my dream could actually mean something. So I trained until my body hurt. The irony was that now he was trying to buy my dream out from under me. I turned around and started walking. His voice cut across the parking lot, even and cold. "Are you serious right now? You've spent your whole life chasing money, and you're really going to walk away from this much?" "What I'm offering you is more than you'd make washing thousands of dishes at that part-time job, more than you've ever seen in your life, and you still want to play noble?" I stopped and turned my head just enough to see him through the rain. For years, I had believed some things were untouchable. Then all at once, they rotted through. I gave him a faint smile. "Sure, Dante. Think whatever you want." By the time I got back to my part-time job, my phone was buzzing. Sofia Quinn, my friend. "Valentina. Tell me I'm reading the list wrong. Tell me Bianca's name isn't sitting where yours should be." "You're reading it right." "It's Dante. It has to be Dante. Did you confront him?" "I just came from him." I leaned against the back counter, looking at a pile of dirty bowls. "He offered to pay for the rest of my skating career. Said he was buying the spot from me." The line went quiet for a long beat. "That entitled bastard," Sofia Quinn said finally. "Tell me you cursed him out." "I walked away." "Valentina, you have to fight this. That national grant is yours. Do you have any idea what you went through to earn it? The all-night training, your father—" "It won't matter." "What do you mean it won't matter?" "The spot is funded by the National Sports Bureau, but the Romano family controls this school and half the city around it. The school leaders won't care whether my place gets stolen. They'll only listen to the next don of the Romano family." She went quiet again. "I just saw Bianca's Instagram story. Dante booked out an entire private club restaurant to celebrate her nomination." "Fine." "Fine? That's it?" "I have to go. The boss is coming." I hung up before she could say anything else.
The next morning, I went to the school to submit the East Coast Ice Trials paperwork. I was halfway down the corridor when I saw them, Dante with Bianca on his arm. Bianca saw me first. She flinched and ducked behind his shoulder. "Dante, I'm scared." He stepped in front of her like a wall. "Valentina. Don't start." I tried to walk around him. He caught my wrist. "What is wrong with you? Bianca didn't do anything to you. None of this was her decision, so why do you have to make a scene?" I yanked my arm back. "Let me go." People in the corridor started looking over: uniformed heirs of family lines, girls wearing diamonds, the young heir who had just finished combat training, and the security guards pretending not to hear.. Bianca's eyes filled with tears right on cue. She slipped out from behind Dante and took one step toward me. "Valentina, I'm really, really sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen. If hitting someone is the only way you can vent, then hit me. I deserve it." She came closer with her chin lifted, and Dante wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. "Look at her," he said to me, his voice low and furious. "Look at what you're doing to her. I never thought you could be this cruel, Valentina." The whispers started. "That's her, right? The poor girl stuck in the elite school?" "Wait, isn't she the one who lost the national grant?" "Lost it to Bianca. Honestly, look at her face. No expression at all. Any man would go cold looking at that. No wonder Dante moved on." "Bianca is literally an angel. I'd choose her too." I didn't look at any of them. My eyes stayed on Dante. "I said, let me go." He didn't let go. Instead, he shoved me. I stumbled back and hit the row of steel lockers behind me, my shoulder blades cracking against the metal. For a second, I stayed there with my back against the lockers, looking up at him. He looked right back at me. There was nothing on his face, no flicker, nothing at all. We grew up together. When he was ten, the Romano family was in a bloody feud with another mafia family, and to keep him safe, they threw him into our small town. During his first week there, he picked a fight with three older boys behind the rink and was getting his teeth kicked in when I came around the corner. I held up a sharpened skate blade. They ran. After that, he followed me everywhere. When a boy at the training school bullied me, Dante put him on the ground and beat him hard enough that nobody forgot it. Back then, he would say, "Valentina, I've got you. Always." "We're getting out of this town. Both of us. National team, international competitions, the whole thing. You and me." And now he was standing in front of me with another girl pressed against his side, after he had just shoved me into a wall. Bianca cried even harder. "Dante, please, let's just go. It's my fault. All of this is my fault." He turned his head and kissed her hair. "It's not your fault. Not any of it." He gave me one last warning look, then led her past me and away. I stayed against the steel lockers until I could breathe again. The administration office was at the end of the corridor. On the way there, I passed the Featured Athletes wall. Bianca's photo was in the center, bigger than everyone else's. Beneath it, in clean black letters, it read: A promising young talent moving forward through hardship. A story of resilience. I looked at it for one second and laughed bitterly. I remembered one night after a late training session, when I came back to the rink equipment shop. My father was waiting in the parking lot. I could smell the whiskey on him from ten feet away. "Where's the money?" I didn't answer. I tried to get around him and reach the door. He grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the side of the building. "I'm talking to you. Are both your ears deaf now?" "There isn't any money." "Bullshit. That Romano kid throws cash around like water, and you're stuck to him twenty-four hours a day. You're telling me you can't squeeze a few hundred out of him for your old man?" He slapped me across the face. "You hiding it? Where is it? Huh?" He started searching me, yanking at my pockets, and I shoved him away. That was the wrong move. He kicked me in the stomach so hard I went down on the asphalt. "You ungrateful bitch. You're just like your mother. Trash, both of you." He went looking for something heavier, a tire iron or a piece of pipe. I didn't see clearly. That was when Dante's car pulled into the parking lot. The engine hadn't even stopped before he got out. In two moves, he put my father on the ground, then pulled me up from the asphalt. His hands moved over my face, my arms, my ribs, checking. "Where did he hit you, Valentina. Where." I couldn't answer. He took off his own coat and put it around my shoulders. "It's okay. I'm here. I've got you." He didn't go home that night. He sat on the broken couch in the back of the shop until morning. The next day, he walked into the precinct and did not leave until they had my father in a holding cell. When he came back, he sat down beside me and said, "From now on, I'm taking care of you. You don't have to worry about anything. Ever." I had actually believed him.
A week before the East Coast Ice Trials, our training school held its final mock competition. There was a full judging panel, full scoring, and several committee observers in black suits sitting by the boards; the whole thing was run like the real event. I took first. My total score was almost twelve points higher than second place. Bianca came in last. She took the score sheet off the board, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the trash on her way off the ice. "Doesn't matter. I got the national training grant." Dante was waiting at the boards with two coffees. He handed one to her. Then, with a sincerity that made my stomach turn, he said, "It's fine. You were beautiful." I watched Bianca smile like she had just been crowned. She pressed up onto her toe picks and kissed him on the cheek. I walked past them toward the locker room. "Valentina." I did not stop. "Valentina. Hey." He came around in front of me, blocking the path. "Are you still angry about the national training grant?" I didn't answer. "I get it. But come on, look at her situation. She needs this more than you do, and you could win the East Coast Ice Trials in your sleep." He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "The card I offered you is still valid. Whatever you need, coaches, training camps, I'll cover it." He thought money was the answer, as if money could smooth over every wound he had opened. I shook my head. "I don't need it." "There you go again." His jaw tightened. "How long are you going to keep doing this? Do you know how much you make in a month? What I'm offering you is more than you'll ever pull out of that place in your whole life." Bianca skated up behind him, all false softness. "Dante, don't be like that. You can't be so harsh with a girl." She gave me a practiced little smile. "Valentina, I know you hate me right now, but I really, truly had no other choice. After my father lost everything, my stepmother has been awful to me. I had nowhere else to turn." Her eyes shone with tears. I had watched her perform like this for a year. In every conversation, she was the victim; in every room, I was the one making her cry. "Dante said he'll take care of you," she went on, her tone soft and generous. "Whatever you need, tell us. Dante and I will help you." Us? As if that one word meant they had been tied together for life. I couldn't help the corner of my mouth from lifting. Dante frowned. "What's funny?" "Nothing. I just think the two of you match each other. I hope it lasts." His face changed. "Valentina—" I walked past him into the locker room. "Valentina, come back." I ignored every word. That night, Sofia sent me a photo, a screenshot she had saved from Bianca's Instagram. Bianca and Dante were in an underground bar. Dante held a bottle of champagne, while Bianca leaned across his lap. Their friends were in the background, raising glasses and shouting, "CONGRATS BIANCA!" Sofia: Dante is rotten through. Walk your own road. He is not worth your grief anymore. She was right. I closed the app and tossed the phone aside. Then I picked up my training journal from the nightstand, opened to the next blank page, and started writing out my East Coast Ice Trials program. As long as I kept training, I did not have to think about anything else.
A week before the East Coast Ice Trials, the training school cut hours for tapering. Most of my teammates used the time to rest, but I still went to my part-time shifts like usual. Wednesday afternoon, I saw Dante's car parked outside the place where I worked. "Valentina. Come here." I kept working and ignored him. "I'm talking to you." He frowned and walked over. He reached for my arm, saw the dirt on my hands, and pulled his fingers back before touching me. "Go wash up and come with us." "Where?" "The safehouse up the mountain. Bianca wants a few days away from everything. You're coming with us." I straightened. "I'm not going." "Don't start this again." He let out a sharp breath. "I drove all the way here. Bianca wants to make peace, so stop being so difficult." "I have nothing to make peace about with her." "Valentina." "I'm training." He laughed once, short and ugly. "Training. That's just a ridiculous excuse. You could skate the East Coast Ice Trials hungover and still take first." "Come on. Leave this dump for a weekend. Bianca actually wants to fix things with you." "I'm not going." His patience vanished. He stared at me for a second, then laughed again, his smile cold with disgust. "Are you worried your boss will dock your pay if you leave?" He pulled out his wallet and flung several hundred-dollar bills at my face. The money drifted down through the air and landed on the floor, soaking up dirty water. "Is this enough? No?" He pulled out another stack. "How about now?" Rourke, the owner of the shop where I worked, rushed out, took one look at the cash on the floor, and lowered his voice. "Mr. Romano, what is going on here? We don't need any of this." Dante didn't even look at him. His eyes stayed on me. "Pick it up, then come with me." I still didn't move. Bianca had been waiting in the car. When she saw what was happening, she ran over at once. "Dante, please stop. You're scaring her." She crouched and began picking up the bills one by one. "Valentina, don't be mad at him. He's only trying to be good to me. He didn't mean to treat you like this." She held the money out to me with both hands, eyes wet. "Please come with us. I don't want to be the person who ruins things between you two." I looked at her, then at Dante. He was not sorry for anything he had done. He thought he was being generous, and therefore I should kneel and thank him. I walked past both of them, went into the back of the shop, and shut the door. Through the wall, I heard him say, "See? She isn't worth helping. You help her, and she doesn't even know how to be grateful." The car engine started, and the sound moved away down the street. A minute later, Rourke came in. He set the stack of cash on the workbench in front of me. "Take it, kid." "No." "Valentina." He pushed it closer. "Your father drinks and gambles. With your situation, you need this." I stared at the bills. They seemed to carry the smell of Dante's expensive cologne. I walked to the sink, turned the water as hot as it would go, and started washing my hands. I kept washing until my skin was red and raw. That night, my father came back. He was drunker than usual, and he had seen the cash through the front window. He took it, then started taking everything else. He even put a chair through the front glass. I called the police. When they arrived, he was still swinging a hockey stick at the lights. Two officers put him in cuffs. On his way out, he spat at me. "You called the cops on me? On your own damn father? You were born for men to fuck, you filthy bitch. You should die. You should rot in hell." I watched the cruiser pull out of the parking lot. Then I looked back at the wreckage in the shop and covered my face. So this was what it felt like to have nobody left around me.
Watch? https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/202606263jIAIl0IiU ? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "Novelix" app ? search for "ni774880", and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix