Part 28 ( Ellie )

Practice ends on a high note.

Coach gathers us all near the sideline, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. His usual sharp gaze scans the team. "Good work today, everyone." he says, nodding. "That's the level I need from you every damn game. Take notes. We need to carry this energy into the game. Don't get lazy just because we had a good day. Now, hit the showers."

Everyone starts moving, grabbing their water bottles and heading toward the locker room. Luke slaps my back on the way. "Damn, you're showing off now."

I smirk. "Or maybe you're slacking."

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, tell yourself that."

We walk toward the locker room, but I linger near the entrance, waiting.

-

One by one, players filter out, heading to their cars or getting lost in conversations about weekend plans.

Once I'm sure it's empty, I step inside.

The air is thick with steam. I strip off my sweaty jersey, tossing it onto the bench before making my way to the showers.

The hot water hits my skin, washing away the exhaustion. My muscles ache in the best way, a reminder of the work I put in today. It feels good. Like I've finally found my rhythm again.

I let my mind go quiet. No thoughts of Juliet. No thoughts of Bella. Just the steady rhythm of water against tile.

I finish up quickly, toweling off and throwing on a fresh hoodie and sweatpants. Running a hand through my damp hair, I grab my duffel bag and step out into the cool evening air.

As I make my way to my car, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out, glancing at the screen.

Anthony.

I sigh, unlocking the door and sliding into the driver's seat before answering. "What's up?"

"Meet me at the club's estate," Anthony says, skipping pleasantries. His voice has that business-like edge, but there's something else beneath it, excitement.

I raise a brow. "Something happen?"

"You'll see when you get here. Just get your ass over."

"Alright, on my way."

The call ends, and I toss my phone onto the passenger seat.

Looks like I've got one more stop before heading home.

I start the engine and pull out of the lot, the city lights guiding my way.

-

I step out of my car, blinking in disbelief.

The estate is unrecognizable.

Last time I was here, there were maybe twenty, thirty workers at most, slowly marking out the foundation, moving at a normal, expected, pace.

Now?

There are at least a hundred men swarming the site. Trucks lined up, supplies stacked in massive piles, new steel beams already being prepped. It's chaos, controlled chaos, but chaos nonetheless. The kind of movement you only see on sites that have multimillion-dollar backing.

I don't move at first. I just stare, my brain struggling to catch up with what I'm seeing.

"What the hell—?"

I shut my car door, still trying to process the scale of it.

Anthony is already waiting for me, arms crossed, watching me with an expression that borders on amusement.

I don't even look at him. My gaze is fixed on the army of workers currently setting up my club.

"This—" I motion vaguely to everything happening around me. "This wasn't the plan."

Anthony exhales, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. Plans changed."

I finally turn to him, completely lost. "What happened?"

He smirks, jerking his chin toward the estate. "Juliet happened."

I blink.

I don't say anything at first. I just stare at him, like he might be joking.

Because there's no way.

No way Juliet would just do this.

I shake my head. "What?"

Anthony gestures to the construction happening around us. "She pulled some strings, got extra hands on board, made sure every supply you needed got here overnight." He shrugs, casual as ever. "Basically? She put this shit on overdrive."

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Juliet did this.

I look back at the site, really taking it in now.

This is more than a favor. This is more than helping out. This is the kind of pull that only someone like Juliet Baldwin has. The kind of acceleration that takes connections, money, power, all things she has in abundance, but still.

She didn't have to do this.

Yet she did.

I swallow, my voice quieter. "Why?"

Anthony watches me, smirking like he's enjoying this way too much. "Why do you think?"

I shake my head, still reeling. "I—I didn't ask her to do this."

Anthony hums. "Doesn't look like she needed you to."

I let out a sharp exhale, running a hand through my hair. "Jesus Christ."

I don't know what to do with this.

Juliet doesn't just do things without a reason. She doesn't interfere unless it benefits her in some way. But this? This isn't just helping, this is her making sure my dream actually happens.

Faster. Stronger.

I turn back to Anthony, my voice steadier this time. "Did she say anything?"

He tilts his head. "Define anything."

I glare. "Anthony."

He grins, then sighs. "Fine. No, she didn't say much. Just made the calls, set things in motion, and told me it was taken care of." He nods toward the site. "And clearly? It is."

I shake my head again, completely blindsided.

I don't know what I expected from Juliet after last night, after this morning.

But it wasn't this.

"Damn," I murmur, still watching the workers move like a well-oiled machine. "She really just—did all this?"

Anthony smirks. "Starting to think she likes you, Crawford."

I scoff, but my chest tightens at the words.

I don't know what this means.

But I do know one thing.

I owe her. Big time.

-

The dust kicks up beneath my feet as I take a slow lap around the site, hands on my hips, taking in everything. The sound of drills, the clank of steel beams, moving at a pace I didn't expect.

I still can't believe it.

More than a hundred workers, way more than what Anthony and I initially planned for. The skeletal frame of what will soon be Lee's Haven is coming together faster than I thought possible.

And all of it because of Juliet.

I exhale, smiling like an idiot.

Anthony watches me with a knowing smirk, arms crossed. "You look like your brain's short-circuiting, Crawford."

I turn toward him, still in disbelief. "Because it is." I gesture toward the workers. "This? This wasn't supposed to happen for another couple of months."

Anthony chuckles, shaking his head. "You really don't get it, do you?"

I frown. "What?"

He steps forward, lowering his voice just slightly. "She believes in this. In you. That's why."

I press my lips together, trying to process it.

I let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down my face. "It's just... I didn't expect this."

Anthony snorts. "Yeah, well, Baldwin doesn't do things half-assed. If she's in, she's all the way in."

I glance back at the site, watching the workers move like a well-oiled machine. My fingers flex at my sides. I should be helping.

Without another word, I shrug off my leather jacket, toss it onto the hood of my car, and start toward the nearest pile of materials.

Anthony watches me, raising a brow. "What the hell are you doing?"

I grab a pair of gloves off a supply cart, pulling them on. "What does it look like?"

Anthony scoffs. "Crawford, you're not a construction worker."

I smirk, picking up a heavy beam. "I could be a construction worker."

- A Few Hours Later

Sweat drips down my back, my muscles ache in places I didn't even know could ache, and I definitely have a blister forming on my palm.

But I don't stop.

I haul another beam onto a stack, rolling my shoulders as I step back to take a breath. Some of the workers glance my way, probably wondering why the hell their boss is lifting shit instead of sitting in some office making calls.

But I don't care.

This is mine. This club. This place. It's not just some rich person's vanity project.

I grab a bottle of water from one of the coolers, twisting the cap off and taking a long drink, letting the cool liquid ease the burn in my throat.

Anthony wanders over, shaking his head with an amused smirk. "Alright, I'll admit, I didn't think you'd last more than an hour."

I wipe my arm across my forehead. "Appreciate the vote of confidence."

He chuckles. "You enjoying yourself?"

I exhale, looking around, taking in the sheer progress happening around me. The club is becoming real. Faster than expected.

I nod, a slow grin pulling at my lips. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

Anthony claps a hand on my shoulder. "Good. Because I think your special guest is about to make things more interesting."

I frown, turning to follow his gaze.

A black car pulls up near the edge of the site, kicking up dust as it comes to a slow stop.

The back door opens.

And Juliet Baldwin steps out.

• Juliet's POV:

I step out of the car, the scent of dust and fresh-cut wood thick in the air. The construction site is alive with movement, machines rumbling, voices shouting instructions, workers moving with practiced efficiency.

And standing right in the middle of it, sweat-drenched and looking entirely out of place, is Ellie Crawford.

She sees me the moment I step onto the lot. Her expression shifts, first confusion, then realization, then something softer, something that lingers behind her sharp edges.

I take my time as I walk forward. Anthony is the first to speak, because of course he is.

"Ah, the queen herself has arrived," he announces, wiping dust off his sleeves like he's actually been doing work. "I was wondering when you'd show up to witness your masterpiece."

Ellie still hasn't spoken. She's just watching me, water bottle clenched in her hand, like she's trying to piece together the right words.

I tilt my head slightly. "You look surprised."

Ellie blinks, shaking her head as if to snap herself out of it. "I'm baffled." she says, voice still laced with disbelief. "Just—" She gestures at the hundred-plus workers, the machinery that wasn't here yesterday, the way everything has transformed overnight. "This is insane."

Anthony grins. "Yeah, well. Baldwin doesn't do things halfway."

Ellie lets out a short breath, then looks back at me. "Juliet, I don't even know what to say."

I arch a brow. "A simple thank you would suffice."

Ellie lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "Yes. Thank you." But it's not just words, it's in the way her shoulders drop slightly. "I mean it. I never expected..." She glances around again, still taking it in. "This much."

I watch her carefully. The raw, genuine gratitude on her face, the way she's struggling to wrap her head around the fact that someone went out of their way for her. For her dream.

I nod, my voice quieter this time. "I know."

Ellie swallows, like she's trying to find the right words.

Anthony, as usual, has no such struggle. "Well, now that we've had our heartfelt moment, let's get back to business, shall we?" He gestures toward the construction site. "This place is moving faster than either of us planned, which means you, Crawford, need to keep up. You're not just signing papers anymore. You're actually building something."

Ellie exhales, nodding. "Yeah. I know."

I tilt my head slightly, studying her. "Do you?"

Her eyes flick to mine, sharp, determined. "Yeah." Then, softer, "And I won't waste it."

I hold her gaze for a second longer, then nod. "Good."

I exhale, glancing toward the site again. The future is being built here, piece by piece. And for the first time in a long time, I don't just see a project.

I see Ellie.

And I believe in her more than she knows.

-

I didn't plan on staying.

I meant to show up, check on things, remind Anthony that this project still operates under my name, and then leave. I had meetings scheduled, calls waiting, a million things that required my attention elsewhere.

But then Ellie in a plain, slightly worn white T-shirt, and suddenly, I have no idea where the hell I was supposed to be.

I stand near the edge of the site, sunglasses on, arms crossed, pretending I'm just observing the progress. But in reality? I'm staring.

And I can't stop.

The shirt clings to her, highlighting every inch of muscle, her broad shoulders, the sculpted definition of her arms, the way the fabric stretches across her back whenever she moves. Sweat beads at her temple, trailing down the curve of her neck, disappearing beneath her collar.

She grabs a heavy beam, lifting it with ease, her biceps flexing under the strain.

My mouth goes dry.

This is unfair. Unreasonable.

It shouldn't be attractive, watching someone work, watching someone haul materials like a damn construction worker. It shouldn't make my fingers twitch, or my stomach tighten, or my thoughts, Jesus.

I press my lips together, forcing myself to focus on something—anything—else.

I fail spectacularly.

Ellie moves with purpose, completely in her element, sweat-drenched and focused, arms tensing with every lift. The sun catches the damp strands of her hair, turning them almost golden, her jaw clenched in determination.

She's so fucking sexy.

I exhale, dragging my gaze away before I embarrass myself.

This is ridiculous. I'm ridiculous.

But the moment I glance back, she's wiping sweat from her brow with the hem of her shirt, flashing just a sliver of her toned abdomen.

I swallow hard.

Okay, I need to leave.

I turn, forcing myself to look at the site instead of Ellie. The workers are moving efficiently, everything progressing faster than expected.

But the only thing my brain wants to process is Ellie Crawford in a white T-shirt.

This is absurd.

Anthony, ever perceptive and completely insufferable, wanders over, following my gaze before smirking. "You keep looking at her like that, and I might start charging admission."

I don't dignify him with a response.

He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "I mean, I get it. Hard to focus when she's out here looking like she was personally sculpted by the gods."

I glare at him, unamused.

Anthony only grins. "What? I'm just saying what you're thinking."

I roll my eyes, adjusting my sunglasses. "I have work to do."

Anthony huffs a laugh. "Uh-huh. Sure. That's why you've been standing in the same spot for the last fifteen minutes."

I level him with a deadpan stare. "Do you have a death wish?"

Anthony smirks, then gestures toward Ellie. "Why don't you go talk to her? You know, instead of burning holes into her with your eyes."

I don't respond. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

But my fingers twitch at my sides.

Because talking to Ellie right now? That might be even worse.

I turn on my heel, ready to walk away, to get the hell out of here before Anthony's running commentary gets any worse.

But for some reason, I glance back one last time.

And that's my mistake.

Ellie is already looking at me.

Watching.

Her hands are planted firmly on her hips, sweat glistening along her collarbone, a loose curl falling over her forehead. And the way she's smirking, self-satisfied, smug as hell, tells me everything I need to know.

She knows I was staring.

I clench my jaw, forcing my expression into neutral, something bored, like I wasn't just mentally undressing her five seconds ago.

Ellie lifts a brow, amused.

I turn around before I make this worse.

Anthony laughs under his breath, the sound grating.

"Shut up," I snap, already heading toward my car.

"I didn't say anything," he calls after me.

I ignore him.

My heels crunch against the gravel as I step toward my car, fingers curling tighter around my purse. I need to leave.

I slide into the backseat, the cool interior a stark contrast to the heat simmering beneath my skin. My driver waits for instruction, and I force my voice to stay even as I give him the address.

"Mia's house," I say smoothly, like I didn't just run out of a construction site because I was thinking about Ellie's arms.

The car pulls away from the estate, and I exhale slowly, staring out the window.

I don't know why I'm going to Mia's.

Maybe I need a distraction from walking back and kissing the life out of her.