Page 24 of Ruthless Court

Her eyes lift to mine.

“Your father doesn’t know about Stanford yet.”

A small, dangerous smile pulls at her mouth.

For the first time, I understand where mine comes from.

“No,” she says. “He doesn’t.”

Two

KANE

The field house is locked for preseason cleaning, so half the basketball team has taken over the outdoor court behind the athlete dorms.

It’s ninety degrees, the blacktop is cooking through my shoes, and I stripped off my shirt twenty minutes ago because sweat was turning it into a second skin.

Nobody complains.

A group of girls has already found reasons to cross the quad three times.

I catch the ball at the top of the key, fake right, drive left, and finish off the glass before Marcus can get his hand high enough to stop me.

“Too slow,” I tell him.

“You pushed off.”

“You’re bigger than me.”

“That doesn’t make it legal.”

“It makes your excuse worse.”

The ball drops through the net. I catch it on the bounce and fire it toward Eli, who is sitting on the sideline with his shoes untied and his phone in his hand.

He nearly takes it to the face.

“Pay attention.”

“I am.” He catches the ball against his chest. “Just not to you.”

Marcus grabs his water bottle. “He’s stalking the transfer portal again.”

“Vale signed,” Eli says.

I turn toward him.

“Everybody knows.”

“Yeah, but the NIL announcement just dropped.”

He holds up his screen. Tristan Vale’s face fills it beneath a Stanford basketball graphic. Dark hair, expensive expression, the same polished East Coast prince look that made him a headline before he played a single college minute.

I take the ball from Eli.

“He was always coming here.”

Marcus gives me a look. “That’s not what people are saying.”