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The Baseball Star I Made Cheated with My Best Friend Novel Cover

The Baseball Star I Made Cheated with My Best Friend

After giving up her billionaire legacy to build her fiancé Ryan into a baseball icon, Scarlett is shattered by a public broadcast exposing his affair with her closest friend. Refusing to beg for his loyalty, she aligns with Damon Blackwell, the cold-blooded owner of a rival team. Together, they plot Ryan's ruin, but their corporate schemes ignite a fierce, irresistible attraction. While Ryan pleads for a second chance, Scarlett makes it clear she only aligns with winners.
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Chapter 2

Silence stretched across the line. Three seconds. Four. The static hummed against my ear, thick and heavy.

"Aren't you Ryan Cooper's exclusive agent?" Damon Blackwell's voice finally cut through the quiet. Ice coated every syllable.

I didn't answer immediately. I kept the phone pressed hard against my cheek.

"Since you know him so well," Damon continued, the pitch of his voice dropping, "you should remember exactly how you set up my player to get your golden boy into the league."

My stomach tightened. Three years ago, I had leaked a sealed medical report. I fed it to the press and watched Damon's first-round draft pick get torn apart on national television. It disqualified his top prospect and cleared the path for Ryan to take the spot. I had played dirty. I had ruined a rookie's career to protect my investment.

Instead of denying it, a harsh, hollow laugh escaped my throat. I hadn't expected to find this funny, but the absolute irony burned.

"I was blind," I said. "I thought I was securing a legacy."

"You destroyed a kid's life. You cost my club a championship."

"I did my job." I gripped the edge of my glass desk. "And now I'm offering to do a new job. For you."

"I don't hire snakes, Scarlett."

"Fifty million dollars."

He paused. The faint sound of a lighter flicking echoed through the speaker. "That's not enough."

"It's a starting bid."

"It's an insult." Damon's tone flattened, stripping away any pretense of politeness. "You think you can buy forgiveness for what you did to my organization?"

"I think I can buy a partnership."

"You're out of your league."

I leaned forward, bracing my weight on my free hand. "You might not know who my father is."

"Enlighten me."

"Monroe Media." I let the name hang in the air. "The largest sports entertainment media group in the country. Heard of it?"

A low hum vibrated through the speaker. "Of course."

"Then you should know my last name."

"Scarlett Monroe." He tested the syllables, drawing them out. "The prodigal daughter."

"I walked away from the family business for him." My voice hardened into a sharp blade. "I broke ties with my father. I gave up my inheritance to build Ryan's career from the ground up."

"A tragic romance."

"A business error." I swallowed the bitter taste pooling in my mouth. "Ryan just made me the biggest joke in the sports world. He broadcast his betrayal to half a million viewers."

"I saw the numbers."

"If I go crawling back to my father now, I have to admit I threw away the Monroe legacy for a loser."

"And your pride won't allow that."

"It's unacceptable." I slammed my palm flat against the desktop. The sudden sting grounded me. "I won't be the punchline."

"Are you crying, Scarlett?" Damon asked softly. The question felt like a trap.

"I don't cry over bad investments."

"Good. Because tears won't fix a PR disaster of this magnitude."

"Your father cut you off," Damon challenged, shifting the subject back to my leverage. "I heard the shouting from three blocks away when he threw you out of his office. Why would he back you now?"

"Because Arthur Monroe respects one thing. Power." I pushed away from the desk, my shoes sinking silently into the plush carpet. "If I come back defeated, he'll lock me out forever. But if I come back after orchestrating the downfall of the league's brightest star, and present him with a controlling stake in the Blackwell Baseball Club? He'll hand me the keys to the empire."

"You're arrogant."

"I'm accurate."

"You want my team."

"I want a platform to crush Ryan. You want capital." I rattled off the facts I had memorized over the past hour. "Your club is bleeding money. The stadium needs renovations. You have three veteran players eating up your payroll, and your sponsors are pulling out. The league is threatening to force a sale. Fifty million cash solves your immediate problems."

"And in return?"

"I buy into the club. Equal partnership."

"Keep dreaming."

"Plus my entire roster of players," I countered, raising the stakes. "Every advertising contact I possess. And the future investment channels of the Monroe family. I will flood your organization with money and talent."

"You're handing over everything," Damon murmured.

"I'm weaponizing it."

"Ryan is your star client. Destroying him tanks your own agency's value."

"I don't care about the agency anymore. I care about revenge."

"How do I know you won't take him back?" Damon asked, his voice suddenly sharp. "He shows up at your door, flashes that million-dollar smile, apologizes, and suddenly I'm the one holding the bag."

"He humiliated me in front of the world."

"People forgive worse."

"I don't."

"Prove it."

"How?"

"Give me something right now. Something that hurts him."

I didn't hesitate. I walked over to my laptop and woke the screen. "His contract with Apex Energy. There's a morality clause. If he's caught in a public scandal, they can void the deal. But it's tighter than that. The CEO of Apex is deeply religious. If he finds out Ryan was sleeping with the brand's lead model in a hotel room paid for by the company..."

"You want me to leak the hotel receipts to the CEO."

"I'm already emailing them to you." I tapped my keyboard. The confirmation chime echoed in my quiet office. "Check your inbox."

"You're burning your own commission."

"I told you. I want him ruined."

Another heavy silence fell between us. I tracked the seconds on the digital clock on my wall. The red numbers glared back at me. I needed this alliance. Without Damon's infrastructure, I was just an angry ex-girlfriend screaming into the void. With him, I was a threat.

Then, a low sound rumbled through the phone. He was laughing. Not a mocking sneer, but genuine amusement.

"You've finally learned how to be a real businessman," Damon said.

The tension in my shoulders unspooled a fraction. "Is that a compliment?"

"It's an observation."

"So, are you helping me or not?" I asked. I stopped pacing and stood perfectly still.

"Of course." The amusement vanished from his voice, replaced by a ruthless edge. "I always enjoy making my enemies miserable."

"Good. We have a deal."

"Not yet." Damon's tone shifted, turning darker, heavier. "You offered fifty million and your family's resources. But I don't sign blind contracts. I want to see the woman who just sold her soul to destroy her lover."

"I'm not hiding."

"Then come to my office. Right now."

"It's past midnight, Damon."

"Deals with the devil are rarely struck in the daylight, Scarlett. My penthouse. Thirty minutes. Or I delete the email and let Ryan Cooper keep his throne."

The line went dead.

I stared at the black screen of my phone. My reflection stared back, pale and exhausted, but my eyes burned with a strange, fierce heat.

I grabbed my coat. Damon Blackwell wanted to see exactly who he was getting into bed with. I was going to show him.

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