Chapter Ninety Six
Venessa's POV
There is a distinct difference between the energy of a locker room fueled by anger and one fueled by absolute, unburdened freedom. For the past three days, our apartment had been a quiet sanctuary of healing. True to my word, I had kept Khalid on strict house arrest. I rubbed the anti-inflammatory ointments into his bruised ribs, made sure he drank his green smoothies without staring at his tablet, and watched the tight, stressed lines on his face slowly disappear. When the team doctor finally snipped the black stitches from his forehead, leaving a faint, dangerous-looking pink scar, Khalid looked less like a battered warrior and more like a predator ready to be let out of its cage.
Tonight was the first game since that violent showdown, and the atmosphe
