The pre-season was over. The team was returning from their last trip with a mix of exhaustion and anticipation for what was to come. But for Anny, the real game was still happening off the court—between four walls, where she and Hanz lived a secret story that now threatened to explode like a bomb.

They had returned from Munich in silence. She, wearing a loose sweatshirt, but still with her skin marked by his fingers. He, with a tense jaw, watchful eyes, and a possessive hand on her thigh on ...