Playing To Win || paused might be continued soon ||

chapter twenty-eight

Landon's POV

I didn't know how it happened. Maybe it was in the way she walked into a room and somehow managed to make the world tilt on its axis, forcing everything to revolve around her.

Or maybe it was her laugh—that wicked, sharp sound that always cut right through me, making my heart thud in my chest like a war drum.

But one thing was clear: I was falling for Emery Valenti.

She didn't even know it, and maybe that was what drove me crazy. She had this way of acting like nothing ever touched her, like she was untouchable. Like she was in control of everything in her life, as if nothing could ever make her falter.

She skated through life the same way she did on the ice—effortless, graceful, and cold, with a fierceness that made her untouchable.

And yet, every time I looked at her, I couldn't help but think she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

She was sitting across from me now, her dark hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders, her eyes focused somewhere in the distance.

The others were talking, laughing—something about a joke Jaxon made—but my attention was only on her. It always was.

Everything about her drew me in. The sharpness in her gaze, the way she was always so composed even when she was cracking inside.

I could see it, that pain she hid beneath the surface, and it only made her seem more like some kind of goddess to me—powerful and untouchable, yet vulnerable in ways no one else could see.

I leaned back in my chair, watching as her fingers traced the rim of her glass absentmindedly, and I knew I was screwed.

Because it wasn't just attraction. I'd felt that before, with other girls, sure. But this—what I felt for Emery—was different.

It wasn't just that she was beautiful, though she was, undeniably. It was the way she owned every room she walked into, the way she didn't need anyone but herself. She was strong, confident, and didn't take anyone's shit—not even mine.

Especially not mine.

And I loved that about her. Loved the way she never let me get too close, how she constantly pushed me away. It only made me want her more. Because as much as she pretended to be untouchable, I saw the cracks.

The brief moments where the mask slipped and I caught glimpses of the real her. The girl who was hurting, who was carrying more than she let on.

That girl was a goddess in my eyes.

I watched as she lifted her glass to her lips, the motion so simple, yet so captivating. Her throat moved as she swallowed, and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Everything about her was mesmerizing, and I hated that she had this kind of control over me without even realizing it.

Then she glanced up, catching my stare, and for a second, neither of us moved. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—something that told me maybe she felt it too. Maybe she knew.

But then she looked away, her defenses back up, and just like that, the moment was gone.

I clenched my fists under the table, fighting the urge to get up and walk over to her. To grab her by the hand, pull her outside, and tell her exactly what she did to me.

How she drove me crazy, how she made me feel things I wasn't ready to admit, and how the thought of her with someone else made my blood boil.

Like him. Lorenzo.

The guy she'd been talking to earlier—the one who wasn't me. The one who didn't see her the way I did. He didn't understand what a goddess she was. He didn't get her, not like I did.

And he never would.

I hated the way he looked at her, like she was just another girl. I wanted to rip that look off his face, make him understand that she wasn't just anyone. She was Emery. And she was mine.

Not officially, not yet. But in every way that mattered, she was mine. I wasn't going to let anyone else have her. Not him, not anyone.

It wasn't jealousy. It was something deeper than that. It was possessiveness, sure, but more than that—it was the knowledge that no one could see her the way I did.

No one else could understand the way her mind worked, the way she thought, the way she moved. No one else could touch her heart the way I wanted to.

And as much as she tried to push me away, I wasn't going anywhere.

I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees, and stared at her again. She was laughing at something Ava said now, her smile lighting up the room, and I felt that familiar tightening in my chest.

I didn't know how long I could keep pretending that I didn't care.

That I wasn't already half in love with her. But what scared me most was the thought that maybe she didn't feel the same. That maybe I was just another guy to her, just another player in her game.

No. I wouldn't let that happen. I couldn't.

And maybe that made me selfish, maybe it made me possessive—but I didn't care. I wasn't going to let her slip away.

Not now. Not ever.

As the night wore on and the conversations drifted in and out of my consciousness, I kept my gaze on Emery. My goddess. And I knew, deep down, that no matter what it took, I was going to make her see it.

She was mine. She just didn't know it yet.