[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":10},["ShallowReactive",2],{"viewer-data-2603220ECDF1-568":3},{"id":4,"number":5,"name":6,"content":7,"isLocked":8,"price":9,"hasRead":8},568,10,"Chapter 10: \"Where Do You Think You're Going?\"","\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">There wasn't a journalist in the media zone who didn't know Violette Ellis. And those who hadn't heard the rumors about her and Blake Pierce were in the minority.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The atmosphere turned icy the moment she appeared.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The reporter currently conducting the interview forced himself to snap out of his stupor, struggling to finish his questions. Once done, he didn't even bother with peripheral glances; he turned, along with everyone else, to unabashedly stare at the legendary ex-couple who had supposedly ended in a messy wreckage.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">In a standard situation, the local station would have priority for interviews during tournaments held in Deepwater. Because the reporter had been swapped at the last minute, Violette was a few minutes behind schedule.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">As she approached, the other media members fell silent, instinctively parting to clear a path. Violette offered a polite, apologetic nod, her rose-gold ring catching the harsh stadium light with a cold, metallic glint.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake’s gaze locked onto her finger.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">His heart skipped a beat, and he remained frozen until Violette’s voice finally cut through the silence.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"First of all, congratulations on an easy win. After a six-month hiatus, your performance today was nothing short of brilliant. Looking back at the match, what was the moment that stood out the most to you?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette remained uncannily composed, as if completely oblivious to the hundreds of eyes fixed on her. Her tone was clinical—so objective that it sounded like she was interviewing a complete stranger.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The spectators' thrill of the gossip was quickly replaced by something else: genuine surprise.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">A fellow journalist nearby wiped the sweat from his forehead. That right there—that was pure professionalism.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">After a brief, jarring pause, Blake found his voice.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"No matter how many times I play, the most profound moment is always the victory itself.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"We noticed a change in your form today—you’ve shifted to left-handed play. Is this a result of your recent specialized training?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"The left hand offers a technical advantage. I don't believe in making excuses. I’m the type of person who corrects a weakness the moment I identify it. I was wrong, so I changed.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette tightened her grip on the microphone, unwilling to engage with the subtext. \"After your last match, the official statement mentioned a leg injury. Do you feel this injury will impact your upcoming matches?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"That was a minor issue,\" Blake said, his eyes never leaving her face. \"It wasn't even an injury, really. Just media speculation blown out of proportion.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Your training seems to have paid off. Given the number of tournaments you could have chosen, why select The Tour for your comeback?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake stared directly into her eyes. \"Because I like to get back up exactly where I fell.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">If her memory served her right, the match where Blake had faced his major defeat half a year ago wasn't even at The Tour. It was hard not to read between the lines.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Defeat?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">A loss on the court was one thing. A loss in life was another.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Within minutes, the live stream was blowing up. Then, her phone buzzed—Arthur Campbell, the station chief.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Why wasn't Emma Fox there?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette explained with a weary sigh, \"It was her first time in the field; she was too nervous. She ended up with an upset stomach. Like you said, I'm the veteran—I had to cover for her.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"You've had a rough day.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette offered a dry smile. \"How about a bonus for the trouble?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Seeing Blake again after their breakup hadn't been as devastating as she’d feared. Violette realized that if she had known she’d be in the headspace to crack jokes, she wouldn't have spent the last few days spiraling into a pit of anxiety.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">As she hung up and turned around, she spotted a man in a sharp suit standing at the end of the corridor. He was waiting for someone, his gaze dark and unreadable as he watched her.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The smile on her face stiffened. She instinctively stood up straighter.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The man seemed to sense her reaction; he began walking toward her with long, purposeful strides.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I’ll get back to you with the report later, I have things to handle,\" Violette said into the phone.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"You’re getting bolder by the day,\" the Station Chief grumbled.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She ended the call, thinking that she wasn't getting bolder—her life was just becoming a series of widening cracks. She exhaled silently and braced herself, walking a few steps to meet him.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"What are you doing here?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman Griffin took her heavy equipment bag from her, his expression unreadable. \"Gathering data. You were here for the interviews?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Yes.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Are you finished?\" he asked gently.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He had been at the arena, so he had to have known who was on the court today. Had he missed the media zone? Or did he know, and simply chose not to mention it?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette pondered this. \"Just wrapped up.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman glanced at his watch. \"I’m finished as well. Lunch?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette hesitated, then nodded.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">They walked through the corridor, one after the other. Violette lagged behind a few steps, firing off messages to her colleagues. She kept her ears tuned to his footsteps; no matter how slowly she walked, Roman maintained a precise, measured distance. His silent back felt like a wall—a hard, impenetrable barrier.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She realized she had never truly seen behind Roman’s mask. He was always elegant, always composed.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">What was he like underneath?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Was he rigid or yielding? Warm or indifferent? Or was he truly a gentleman, the same through and through?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">While she was lost in thought, the footsteps in front of her stopped. Violette, caught off guard, nearly collided with him. She reflexively grabbed his arm to steady herself, and Roman instantly flipped his hand, locking his fingers firmly over hers.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He tightened his grip, with no intention of letting go.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"We’re still in public,\" she whispered.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">They weren't hiding their marriage, but they had never been this intimate in public. Their arrangement had been a matter of convenience from day one. She needed to escape her crumbling past, and he needed to secure a marriage before his grandfather issued an ultimatum to wed a woman he didn't love.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette still remembered what Roman had said when he proposed—*Let's just try it. I don't mind that your heart is with him.*\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Thinking of that, surely Roman wouldn't be overly bothered by her interviewing Blake, right?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The tension in her chest began to ease, though a strange, inexplicable unease lingered. She tried to pull her hand away, but couldn't.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Why are you resisting?\" Roman asked suddenly.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette finally snapped back to reality. She wasn't resisting.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I’m not resisting, it’s just here—\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman’s grip remained firm, his attitude uncharacteristically stubborn. \"What about here?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Before she could answer, a figure rounded the corner from the dim, backlighted end of the corridor.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Silhouetted against the light, his face was obscured. He had a sports bag slung over one shoulder, one hand shoved into his pocket, standing there with a familiar, lazy posture.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The scene was so painfully familiar that it felt like a recurring memory. Outside the station, in front of her old apartment, in the gym lounge...\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake used to wait for her exactly like this.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Sometimes, if she kept him waiting too long, he’d purposely check his watch and call out to her, \"Sis, I'm starving. Come over and give me a hug.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette never understood the logic of connecting hunger to a hug, but that didn't stop her from hurrying toward him every single time.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her feet started to move on autopilot, but she was suddenly jerked backward. She collided into a chest that felt like a furnace.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The veins in Roman’s forearm stood out as he gripped her, pulling her close and staring down at the corridor.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Where do you think you're going?\"\u003C/p>",false,0,1774272917197]