Chapter 6 - The Eavesdropper
I didn't run.
I stood completely still in the concrete hallway, watching David walk away with an undeniable swagger in his step.
My entire life, my entire purpose for the last fourteen years, had just been legally dismantled in three minutes.
The private security guards stepped forward, clearly intending to escort me toward the waiting police at the front gate.
"Don't touch me," I warned them, my voice eerily calm.
I turned around and walked back down the service corridor, pretending to comply.
As soon as I rounded the corner out of their sight, I ducked into an old stadium utility closet.
The room smelled of bleach and damp mops.
I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking violently, and called Patricia again.
"Where are you?" she demanded instantly.
"I'm hiding in a closet near the locker rooms," I admitted.
"Leo, you are making this worse," she groaned.
"Mason signed a paper saying he wants to live with David," I told her, my voice cracking.
Patricia sighed heavily on the other end.
"A minor's signature under duress in a locker room isn't legally binding, Leo."
"But David knows that."
"He just needed Mason to verbally agree so he can parade him in front of the media after the game."
"Why does David want him so badly now?" I asked, frustration boiling over.
"It can't just be about ego."
"I did some digging into David's Chicago firm while we were off the phone," Patricia said slowly.
"David isn't a billionaire, Leo."
"His real estate company is drowning in massive debt, and he is facing a federal indictment for embezzlement."
I leaned back against the cold cinderblock wall, my mind racing.
"He needs money," I realized aloud.
"He needs a distraction," Patricia corrected.
"If he becomes the legal manager of a high-profile athlete, he gets access to Mason's massive NIL endorsement deals."
"He plans to drain the boy's signing bonuses to pay off his corporate debts."
A sickening wave of nausea washed over me.
David wasn't here to be a father; he was here to use his son as a human shield against bankruptcy.
I had to tell Mason, but he wouldn't believe me without proof.
"Patricia, send me the financial documents right now," I demanded.
"I'm sending the PDFs to your phone, but Leo, the police are actively sweeping the stadium for you."
"Let them sweep," I said, hanging up the phone.
My phone chimed immediately with the incoming files.
I opened the door to the utility closet and peeked out into the hallway.
The security guards were gone, likely searching for me near the exits.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the locker room behind me.
I crept back toward the heavy metal doors and peeked through the small glass window.
David was standing inside, furiously throwing a clipboard against the lockers.
He was yelling into his cell phone.
"I don't care what the bank says, the kid just signed the paper!" David screamed.
"The sports agency advances the two million dollars tomorrow, and I'll wire it directly to your offshore account to cover the missing funds!"
I gasped silently.
May you like
I wasn't the only one listening.
Standing in the shadow of the shower corridor, frozen in shock, was Mason.
