CHAPTER FIFTY SIX

OLIVER

My eyes widened as I scanned the headlines.

EX OLYMPIAN DALLAS VALENCIA SPOTTED NEAR THE SEOUL COLLEGE FOR FENCING FOUR YEARS AFTER HER EPIC FRAUDULENT ACTIVITY. IS SHE MAKING A COMEBACK?

The paper said a lot of shitty things about her and whether she deserves a second chance or not. Most comments said she didn’t deserve another shot. People were calling her all sorts of horrible names, even people that don’t know shit about the sport.

I dipped my phone into my pocket and rushed to her room. My heart hammered in my chest with each step I took, I suddenly hated how big my house is. I got there half the time I was supposed to.

I wanted to barge in, but I didn’t want her to be startled. So I placed a gentle knock on her door. I held my breath waiting for her response. None came. I knocked harder the second time.

My mind was already imagining the worst scenarios ever. What if she hurt herself?

She doesn’t seem like the type who would harm herself because of a news headline. But no one likes to have their life’s misery broadcast all over social media. Having come from old money, I’ve been in the spotlight my entire life. I know how frustrating the tabloids can be.

I tapped my feet on the tiled floor, waiting impatiently for her to open the door. I knocked again the third time.

“Dallas?” I called, but she didn’t answer.

Screw this, I’m going in.

I was about to open the door when I heard her weak voice come from the other side of the door,

“Come in.”
I opened the door to see her standing in the middle of the room, her hands behind her back, a big smile on her face. It doesn’t take a genius to know that a smile is fake. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. It seems she washed her face quickly, judging by her wet front hair and eyelids. She didn’t want anyone to know she had been crying.

“Do you need something?” she asked.

“Dallas…” she interrupted me before I could complete my sentence.

“I should probably go clean your room. You’ve been away for two weeks, and I’m pretty sure the whole place is covered in dust by now. No one cleans like me, you know.” she winked and made to walk past me, but I grabbed her arm.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going to do my work now. You don’t have to bug me about lazing around.” she rolled her eyes and chuckled.

I felt a slight annoyance at the way she was pretending to be okay. It was obvious that she wasn’t. But still, I decided to ask.

“Are you okay?” I asked. I tried to sound as gentle as I could.

She stared at me, her fake smile started to falter. She opened her mouth to say something but had a hiccup. Tears streamed down her pretty eyes and I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to find the person that did this to her and kill him/her with my bare hands.

I drew her closer to me and wrapped my arms around her. She buried her face in my shirt and cried hard. I hugged her tight to myself, my jaws clenching. I felt the sudden urge to take away her hurt. I want to wipe away her tears and replace it with her most beautiful smiles. But first, I need to find the fucker who did this, and I’ll make him pay.

We stayed like that for a long while before Dallas pulled away from me.

“Sorry, I ruined your shirt.” she said and sniffed back her tears.

Her eyes were more red and puffy now. I suddenly hated myself for making her cry, but I knew she needed an outlet. It was better than if she pretended she wasn’t hurt.

“It’s okay.” I smiled and cupped her cheeks in my hand.

“I’d offer to buy you another one, but sadly, I’m on your payroll, so I don’t have any money.”

“Well, I can always deduct it from your next pay. It’s only a few hundred bucks.”

She smiled and hit me lightly on the chest.

“Jerk.”

I smiled at her. I didn’t give a damn about the shirt, but it was relieving seeing the change in her mood.

We stood there in the middle of the room, staring into each other eyes.

Dallas broke the eye contact and went to sit on the bed. I sat on the small couch in the room and faced her. I waited for her to start, despite having so many questions running through my mind. I knew what she did, what I didn’t know is why she did it. She didn’t seem like someone who would do anything for money. Her life with Lucien was proof of that.

“I’m not what they said I am, I swear.” she said, staring at me as if she was expecting me not to believe her.

“I know.” I said simply and genuinely. I believe her even if I don’t know the reason.

“You’re probably why I decided to ruin my career so thoroughly before it could even properly take off.”

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

“No, I should. You’re helping with my mother’s case and I haven’t been entirely honest the whole time.”

I felt a pang of guilt, but I quickly swallowed. Also, I needed to hear her stories in order to properly connect the dots.

She swallowed hard and cleared her throat.

“My mother died on her way to the airport to watch my tournament at the Olympics. It was just three days to the event. I wanted to withdraw from the competition and return to New York immediately. I found out, but then all my accounts had been frozen by Lucien. He didn’t want me to attend my mother’s funeral. I didn’t have any money to purchase a ticket. Lisa didn’t either, she was going through some personal things.” she inhaled sharply.

“The parents of my opponents approached me. They promised to pay me a huge sum if I threw the match. I didn’t mean to. I swear. I just didn’t know what else to do. I just wanted to see my mum one last time. I…” she trailed off as tears streamed down her eyes.

I sat beside her and squeezed her shoulders gently.

“It’s not your fault. You did what you had to do.”

“It’s absolutely my fault. I should have looked for a more legitimate way to find the money. I ruined my life. I don’t even know how the media got wind of it. It was supposed to be a secret.”

I knew how the news got out. Lucien wanted to keep her away from the funeral so he’d act like a doting husband, and Dallas would be perceived as a horrible daughter for missing her mother’s funeral because of a competition.

It was the perfect plan to kick her off the will. But that failed when she returned just in time for the funeral. The parents’ of Dallas’s opponent called Lucien to thank him for Dallas’s sacrifice. He decided to tip the media off and Dallas got penalized.

I knew Lucien didn’t kill his wife, but he surely had a hand in her death. The timing was very suspicious.

When her sobs died down, I asked a question that had been burning at the back of my mind,

“Do you want to fight professionally again?”

The question seemed to have taken her aback, but she recovered quickly.

“Even if I want to, I can’t. Everyone remembers what I did now, and I’m sure the Olympics would never accept a fraud.”

“You’ve already served your penalty, the Olympics wouldn’t be an issue. I can have my PR team deal with the media. Just tell me if you want to.”

She remained quiet, her face undecipherable. If she wants to, I’ll make sure to do anything to help her achieve her dreams.

The shrill sound of my ringtone pierced the silence between us. I declined the call without checking the caller ID. A ding sound followed shortly, see indicating a text message. I ignored it, but another message entered.

“You should answer it.” Dallas said.

“I will later.”

“I don’t have an answer yet and the phone call will only take a few minutes. It’ll give me time to think,” she said.

She was indirectly asking for time alone, and I decided to excuse her. I exited the room and pulled out the phone. The missed call and the messages were from Ethan. I opened the message.

ETHAN: I was bored, so I decided to help my favorite cousin. You’re welcome.

A document was attached below it. I was about to open it when a message entered from Xavier.

XAVIER: We have a problem.