Page 108 of Beautiful When He Breaks

“You did well,” Mara says quietly while the others gather papers and speak in low, cautious legal tones around us. “That was clear, consistent, and more than enough to support the timeline.”

I nod because if I answer, I might say something bitter like, great, glad my abuse has excellent evidentiary value. Killian reads my face well enough that he shifts closer before I can spiral into it.

“You’re done for today,” he says, voice low enough that only Mara and I hear. “No more statements. No more meetings. I’ll deal with the rest.”

I breathe out slowly. “Thanks, Kill. I got practice in a few. So, see you at home.”

He offers a nod, then turns back to Mara when I walk out. The hallway outside the legal offices feels too bright after the conference room. Luca is leaning against the opposite wall with his arms folded, and the second he sees my face, his own expression tightens. He doesn’t ask how I am in front of people. He just pushes off the wall and falls into step beside me.

“You good enough for practice?” he asks after we’ve made it down one flight of stairs and out of earshot.

“No,” I say honestly. “But I’m going anyway.”

“That’s the most football answer you’ve ever given me.”

“I’m versatile in every way.”

“TMI, bro,” Luca huffs a laugh and claps the back of my shoulder once. “Eli’s going to meet us there.”

We keep walking, making our way to the locker room, but when we pass the classroom wing connecting legal administration to the athletics corridor, something catches at the edge of my vision.

Ryan.

He’s near one of the empty classrooms, curls piled up high on his head, gym bag slung over one shoulder, mouth moving around what is probably some smartass comment. A man stands close to him, close enough that my body registers proximity before my brain registers context.

Matteo Vieri—the board member who left my statement early.

He says something I can’t hear, and Ryan’s face flashes with a grin that looks reckless. Then Matteo catches the strap of Ryan’s gym bag and uses it to pull him sideways into the empty classroom and closes the door.

Every instinct in me detonates.

I’m moving before I decide to. Luca says my name behind me, sharp and confused, but I’m already crossing the hall with my heart slamming into my throat. The rational part of me tries to get a word in, tries to say Ryan is not me, Ryan looked amused, Ryan can handle himself, Ryan is a grown-ass man with a temper and half-Puerto Rican stubbornness enough to weaponize it.

None of that matters to the part of me that just spent the morning telling lawyers how easy it is for powerful men to close doors.

I reach the classroom and stop with my hand half raised because I hear Ryan through the door.

“Damn, Papi,” he says, voice full of exaggerated sweetness and absolutely no fear. “Dragging me into empty rooms on campus now? That’s bold, even for you.”

My whole body goes very still at the flirtatious tone of his voice.

“You keep calling me that like it irritates me.” Matteo’s voice comes smoother, threaded with something that makes my shoulders tense despite Ryan’s tone.

Ryan laughs. “Doesn’t it?”

“No.”

“Shit,” Ryan says, sounding annoyed and entertained at once. “Then I’ll workshop.”

I stare at the door. Behind me, Luca catches up and stops close enough that I can feel him trying to understand whether he should intervene or tackle me away from the classroom before this becomes another formal report. I raise a finger to my lips and cock my head toward the door. Listen, I mouth.

“You missed dinner,” Matteo says.

Ryan scoffs. “I had practice.”

“You had practice until six. Dinner was at eight.”

“Look at you keeping track. That’s not weird at all.”