Chapter One
Knight
As I satin front of the horde of reporters with a fake smile plastered on my face, I burned with the incandescent rage of eight thousand exploding suns. Kingston Sabatino had beaten meagain. For three years, I had been the undefeated tennis champion who won every tournament while barely breaking a sweat. But then that fucker came on the scene two years ago, the only man I couldn’t beat. Each time he triumphed over me, my wrath twisted into a fury that demanded vindication.
I hated him for being so good. As many endless hours as I had spent watching and rewatching his games to analyze his every move, I still couldn’t crack the mystery of how he always came out on top. There was something beautiful about his graceful movements and powerful swings, which I had a begrudging admiration for that also irritated me to no end. I didn’t want to appreciate the fact that he was light on his feet, fast, and made everything look effortless. If his success hadn’t come at the expense of my reputation, I would have actually respected him as being worthy of playing against me. But it grated on my nerves seeing him do fashion spreads because he also happened to be attractive in addition to infuriatingly skilled.
My obsession with him had even caused two of my breakups with my girlfriends. They claimed I cared about him more than them. The sad thing was, they weren’t technically wrong. He fueled my fire like nothing else ever had, making me burn with a furious need to face off against him again. I lived for the day when I would rub his nose in my achievements. That was something I fantasized about before every tournament. I wanted to make him bow down before me and admit that I was better than him. If he begged for forgiveness over making me look bad for the past two years, it would be even better. I wanted him at my mercy as I dominated the hell out of him on the court. It was twice as crushing when I came in second every time, because I’d lose my chance to make him submit to me.
The minutes kept flying by, but the golden wunderkind was nowhere to be found. My jaw ticked from clenching it as I attempted to rein in my anger. He had pulled the same stunt at our last press conference, which, combined with my loss, meant I lost my cool in front of everyone. It had been in the headlines for days, forcing me to do major damage control to contain the controversy. It had been months since then, but it was galling that he had won a second victory over me that day by making me look so bad.
The door opened with a clatter, and an excited din greeted Kingston’s late appearance. Dressed in a white polo and tennis shorts, it contrasted his golden-bronze complexion from so many hours of playing under the sun. His dark hair, green eyes, and sparkling personality made him a fan favorite. Everyone proclaimed him as the king of tennis, whereas my nickname was the Iceman for my stone-cold seriousness on the court.
He waved with a friendly smile as he took a seat, his cheeks flushed from rushing over to the event. It annoyed me he acted like he wasn’t almost half an hour late. “Sorry for the delay, everyone. I’ll stay later to make up for it if that’ll help.”
Iloathedhim. What gave him the right to decide to stay later? Because if he did that, then I had to remain there with a dumb smile on my face when all I wanted to do was throttle him. I was sick of being number two to him. I’d do damn near anything to get back on top. My pride demanded I make him take his rightful place beneath me.
With his arrival, the press conference began. A journalist in the front row started off the questioning. “Kingston, how do you feel after winning another Australian Open?”
“It’s the best feeling in the world,” he replied with his easy-breezy smile and trademark good humor that charmed everyone but me. I refused to let him hoodwink me any more than he already had. “It’s even more satisfying because I was playing against Knightley again. No one’s better than him, except for me.”
Don’t react. Don’t show anyone how much he bothers you. Don’t take his bait in front of all these people and cameras.I repeated that to myself as many times as it took to keep my stupid mouth shut as the audience tittered with laughter.
A female reporter called out a question for me. “Knightley, you must be disappointed with how the tournament turned out?”
Fucking obviously, I silently fumed. Putting on my best PR voice, I gave my beauty pageant answer to appease the public and maintain a shred of dignity. “It’s not the outcome that I had hoped to start off the season with, but I’m determined to learn from this and improve my performance for next time.”
“Is it true that you’re considering retirement?”
I rarely addressed rumors, so I kept my answer short. “No.”
“I’m confident he won’t retire until he’s defeated me twice,” Kingston added with a chuckle.
“Why twice?” the reporter asked, tilting his head in confusion.
“He’ll want a second win to prove that the first time wasn’t a fluke. Isn’t that right, Knight?”
It infuriated me he was correct and always seemed to understand me. A single victory over my adversary would never satisfy me. I needed to defeat him multiple times to demonstrate without a doubt who the better player was. It also irritated me to no end whenever he called me Knight, because I was uncomfortable with the implications when King was part of his name. I’dneverkneel before him.
Recognizing that an answer was required, I tried to sound civil. The last thing I wanted was to cause another international incident with the press. “Iwilldefeat you someday.”
“I look forward to you trying.” His comment set off another round of laughter in the crowd that made me want to grind my teeth from how much it put me on edge. They might have taken it as a joke, but I’d show them all. I’d prove to everyone that I was still the best. I wouldn’t be satisfied until I was victorious over that bastard bane of my existence.
* * *
After the press conference ended,my coach pulled me aside to discuss my performance before I was free to leave. Without witnesses, I stewed in my foul mood as I headed to the locker room to pick up my stuff so I could leave. Kingston’s glib interview had added insult to injury after my shameful defeat.
As I rounded the corner, Kingston came out of the bathroom. I couldn’t stop my hatred from leaking out of me as I spat, “You.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see who would dare to address him in such a rude manner. When he saw it was me, he crossed his arms with a smug chuckle and leaned against the wall to wait for me to come closer. He played it cute, which only made me angrier. “Me?”
“Yes,you.” I loomed over him, staring him down in a show of intimidation that didn’t work.
He pushed off the wall to invade my personal space. “What about me?”
Whatever my first answer was, it died in my throat at the challenging way Kingston stared up at me. His cocky confidence was as intriguing as it was infuriating. But my ego was smarting too hard to be anything other than pissed off at him. Still, it was rare for me to see his intense green gaze up close and personal instead of at a distance across the tennis court. “We need to talk.”
“Oh?”
