Chapter 6
Andrea
The morning light streaming through my penthouse windows. Miguel and I had spread the surveillance photos across my glass dining table like battle plans.
"Miguel, look at these. Tyler and Ryan think they're so careful."
I held up a particularly damning shot of Ryan's hand cupping Tyler's face. The intimacy was undeniable.
Miguel leaned back in his chair, whistling low. "What's the plan? Expose them directly?"
"Not yet. That's my nuclear option." I sorted the photos into neat piles, each one a weapon waiting to be deployed. "First, I want to watch Savannah suffer slowly."
"How?"
I smiled, feeling that familiar rush of control. "Cut off her training, cut off her hope. Just like they did to me."
The memory hit like a punch to the gut.
Last time, they made sure I lost my scholarship, my sponsors, everything. While I lay bleeding in that hospital bed, they systematically destroyed every opportunity I'd worked for.
"Now it's her turn."
The Texas Gymnastics Association office smelled like leather and old money. Photos of champions lined the mahogany walls, including several of my own victories.
Association President Davis sat behind his massive desk, fingers steepled. His nervous energy filled the room.
"Andrea, the Rodriguez family has always been fair. What's this really about?"
I placed a manila folder on his desk with deliberate precision. "Fair? A transfer student somehow qualifies for nationals in three months? And my brother seems... unusually invested in her success."
Davis's eyes flicked to the folder but didn't open it. "What are you implying?"
"I'm implying that personal relationships might be clouding professional judgment."
I opened the folder myself, revealing carefully selected photos of Tyler and Ryan's midnight training sessions. Nothing too explicit, but enough to raise questions.
Davis's face went pale as he examined the images. "These photos..."
"My family has donated $2 million to this association over the years. I think we deserve transparency."
The threat hung in the air like smoke. Davis knew exactly what those donations meant to the association's survival.
"We'll... we'll review her eligibility immediately."
"Good." I stood, smoothing my skirt. "Because if this corruption continues, there won't be a Rodriguez scholarship fund next year."
Davis was already reaching for his phone before I left the office.
'Phase one: complete.'
Twenty-four hours later, I positioned myself near the campus fitness center's main entrance. The maintenance worker I'd paid off gave me a subtle nod as he headed inside.
'Time for phase two.'
I didn't have to wait long. The crash echoed through the building like thunder.
"What the fuck! You could have killed me!"
Savannah's voice carried pure rage and pain. I waited exactly thirty seconds before making my entrance.
"Oh my God, Savannah! What happened?"
I found her on the floor, clutching her shoulder. A steel cable hung broken from the ceiling, the end frayed where it had "accidentally" snapped.
The maintenance worker stood over her, scratching his head with theatrical confusion. "Oops, sorry! The cable snapped. These old machines..."
"That's terrible!" I rushed to her side, all fake concern. "Maybe you should take a break from training. Safety first."
Savannah's eyes met mine, sharp with suspicion despite her pain. "This isn't a coincidence, is it?"
"What are you implying? I'm in casts, remember?" I gestured to my supposedly injured leg.
But inside, I was remembering. Last time, they made sure the balance beam was loose when I used it. I'd fallen so hard I'd seen stars for days.
'Now you know how it feels, bitch.'
Two days of systematic destruction had taken their toll. I followed Savannah to the pharmacy near campus, staying just far enough back to avoid detection.
She looked like shit. The skin reaction had spread to her neck, and now she was favoring her injured shoulder.
"I need something for focus and energy. My career is falling apart."
The pharmacist looked skeptical. "These require a prescription..."
"I can pay extra. Cash. Please."
I smiled from behind the vitamin display, phone camera ready. 'Perfect. Now I have everything I need.'
That night, I found her exactly where I expected - the training center, alone and broken.
She was crying. Actually fucking crying as she attempted a routine with her injured shoulder.
"Why is everything going wrong? I just want to compete!"
I stepped out of the shadows like an avenging angel. "Because karma's a bitch, Savannah."
She spun around, eyes wide with terror. "Andrea! How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to see you buying illegal drugs. And long enough to watch you fall apart."
The photos on my phone glowed in the dim light. Clear shots of her purchasing stimulants without a prescription.
"You're doing this to me! You're sabotaging everything!"
"Me? I'm just documenting your choices."
"You're fucking psychotic!"
The word hit me like a slap. Last time, she'd called me pathetic when I cried in this same spot. After she destroyed my knees, after she stole my dreams.
"Well," I held up my phone, finger hovering over the send button. "This is justice. Tomorrow, these photos go to the NCAA."
Savannah collapsed onto the mat, all fight gone out of her.
I smiled, feeling the familiar rush of control.
'Phase three begins now.'