Grace came running back, clutching my phone and the folder.
I opened it and showed Chase the contents: printed screenshots of every last threatening, coercive message he’d sent Grace about needing her for publicity and how she was the perfect “prop.”
His face went white as paper.
But I wasn’t done yet!
I wasn’t done yet!
I snapped the folder shut. “I already sent copies to your team manager, the league’s ethics department, three major journalists, and your biggest sponsors.”
He lost control then.
He lunged at me, his hand coming up.
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