Part Three
Marlow
BREAKING NEWS – By Shaun Kennedy
The Atlanta Strikers are no strangers to headlines, but this week, the whispers around the team are louder—and far stranger—than usual.
Multiple sources have confirmed rumors of asecret marriageinvolving a key member of the Strikers’ roster and a woman deeply connected to the club. The pair are said to have wed in Las Vegas months ago under unusual circumstances, but the union has been hidden from the public—and even, reportedly, from teammates. Who exactly tied the knot remains officially unconfirmed, but if true, the revelation could shake the foundations of the team.
Meanwhile, the Strikers’Thanksgiving Gala—planned as a night of charity and celebration—was overshadowed by scandal. Several attendees reported that two individuals disappeared from the ballroom, only to be discovered later in what’s being describedas avery intimate encounter.The identities of those involved are being kept quiet for now, but speculation is rampant, especially after several guests noticed familiar faces missing during the night’s peak.
Adding to the drama,Grant Mills,the club’s enigmatic figure and longtime “Silver Fox,” shocked even insiders by commanding thehighest auction bid of the evening—$25,000—for a single date.The woman behind the winning mask? Believed to be someone from his past, determined to claim him once and for all. Were these the two guests heard in an intimate encounter?
And as if the off-field secrets weren’t enough, the Strikers are unraveling on the pitch as well. Reports confirm a violent intra-squad altercation during practice between teammatesLuca Chidubem and Croix London.The clash turned so physical both men were fined, and while the club insists it has “handled” the matter internally, no real explanation has been offered.
What raises eyebrows is how such a brawl could erupt under the watch ofMarlow Mills,who only recently stepped into a leadership role with the Strikers. For someone expected to steady the ship, the optics aren’t great—first secret marriages and scandals at the Thanksgiving Gala, now teammates literally beating each other up on her field. If this is Marlow proving she can handle herself at the helm, many are left wondering: what happens when she really loses control?
A secret marriage. A tryst behind the gala’s locked doors. And teammates turning on each other in the middle of training.
Right now, the Atlanta Strikers seem less like a soccer club and more like the city’s most dangerous soap opera—and the truth behind these mysteries is anyone’s guess.
Stay tuned. The biggest plays of the season might not be happening on the field.
—Shaun Kennedy,Sports Insider Daily, Cinnamon Grove Sun
Chapter forty-six
Nutmegs & News Briefs
Eslin
The emergency Stand-In meeting Marlow calls feels less like a strategy session and more like a courtroom. We’re huddled in her office—me, Tatum, and Marlow pacing like she’s preparing to prosecute the entire world.
The news brief is everywhere. Secret marriages, Thanksgiving Gala scandals, and the cherry on top—whispers are circulating that someone saw Grant sneak off. Someone heard his name being whispered…yelled.
Someone.
Surprisingly, the potential leak of her secret marriage was the least of Marlow’s worries. In her mind, it could just as easily be her or even Luca that the press had stumbled onto so she decided not to worry about it until she absolutely had to. What consumed hernow, what had her pacing and snapping at anyone in reach, was the question of who exactly had her father been screwing at the gala?
I am a mess of nerves. Because not only did someone hear us, they took it and handed it over to the press like it was currency. The very first time I let myself go with Grant, the first time I gave in completely, and it’s splashed across the city like some sordid secret.
And worse, I have to sit here, stone-faced, while Marlow rages about it. While she talks about her father like he’s the reckless one, the embarrassing one, the liability we can’t control. I have to nod, to look just as shocked, as though I don’t already know exactly who was calling his name.
As if it wasn’t me.
“Malina swore it wasn’t her,” Marlow snaps. “So who was it? Who the hell would be reckless enough to sneak off during a gala we werehosting?”
I keep my face still, keep my mouth shut, though the words are burning inside me.
It was me.
Tatum, ever the wildcard, twirls her pen. “People lie. Malina could’ve been playing coy, keeping her conquest a mystery. Everyone said she was willing to do whatever it takes to snag your father.”
“Then why,” Marlow counters, “would she lie about being the one caught fucking my father! Screaming his name for all the world to hear! My father’s.” She lets the wordfatherfall like an accusation.
She stops pacing, finally leaning against her desk, and sighs. “I can’t control him. I can’t control what he does any more than I cancontrol the damn weather. But if he doesn’t get his shit together, this team is going to be eaten alive by the press. And me right along with it.”
Her anger is sharp, but underneath it I hear the ache. The disappointment. And it only twists the knife in me deeper. Because if she knew I was keeping this secret from her—if she ever found out from someone other than me—I wouldn’t just lose her trust. I’d lose her.
