Page 313 of Playing Dirty
The room went still.
Not quiet.
Still.
Like everyone forgot how to breathe properly.
My stomach tightened without permission.
One week.
That was it.
Bennett continued, “If you’re not ready to defend your portfolio under pressure, you will not survive this placement.”
Then she looked directly at me.
Not everyone.
Me.
“You especially, Rowan.”
My throat went dry.
“Don’t mistake talent for security.”
That hit harder than it should’ve.
Because I wasn’t thinking about talent.
I was thinking about Mason.
Which was objectively insane.
MASON
Coach made us run conditioning until someone threw up.
No warning.
Just whistle.
“Go.”
And suddenly it was full-court suicides until legs gave out and pride disappeared.
Andre bent over his knees after the third set. “This is illegal.”
“It’s not,” Luca said, breathing hard. “It just feels like it is.”
Coach didn’t even blink.
I pushed through another sprint, ignoring the burn in my lungs.
My phone was in my bag.
I could feel it buzzing between sets.
