Elina’s POV

My gasp hung in the air, sharp and useless, as Isaac’s “Deal” sank into me like a stone. The club was still in my hands, slick with sweat, and my heart was pounding so hard I swore it would bust out of my chest.

200 yards? Five percent of Shield Tech—his whole company—riding on me?

I stared at the little white ball he nudged into place, and it was not just a ball anymore—it was everything he had built, teetering on my shaky grip. ...