27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Cattleya Cardona

T he ref blows the whistle, indicating the start of the match. I'm a bundle of nerves and instead of playing like I usually do, I'm out of sync with the team. We all are. The first half ends without either team scoring. Right before the game, we had a meeting with Alumnas de la Plata, the other team in the final. The police explained everything to them, and very graciously, their general manager offered to cancel the game. But our GM refused; canceling the game means we let the bad guys win.

"Whatever you decide, the police are ready to protect everyone here at the stadium. We have deployed two thousand officers at security checkpoints throughout the stadium and nearby areas," the chief of police explained. Even though it was supposed to make me feel better, it didn't. Now, here we are at halftime, and we're playing the worst game of the season.

"I know everyone is scared but if you're going to keep playing like shit, then you're letting the bad guys win."

I release a frustrated breath, I know Coach is right, but I can't shake this sinking feeling in my gut.

"I know you're right, Coach, but it didn't help to learn that there are actually threats from two different people," Noelia says what we all are thinking. When the chief of police revealed they were able to track the emails the club was receiving to an IP address originating here in Buenos Aires, I almost passed out. That can only mean one thing: the mafia is behind this. How can we fight an organization that has people everywhere? He also said the texts that all the players received came from a burner phone purchased in La Plata. So, either fans of Alumnas de la Plata are threatening us or there's another mafia branch there? Ugh, either way, it sucks, and I hate that the threat potentially came from someone in the city where my sister and brother-in-law live; I don't want anything bad to happen to them. It could also be a distraction since La Plata is near Buenos Aires. Whoever sent those texts might have bought the phone there to confuse the police. I've watched enough police TV shows in my lifetime to know that it's a possibility.

"You're right, Noelia. I don't think the chief has handled this mess to the best of his abilities, but there's nothing we can do now. I want you to tell me now if you don't think you can give it your all in this second half, and I'll try to put a team out there that's not afraid of winning. I'm not judging anyone, I'm scared as well. I'm just trying to see if we have enough players to win this cup, and send a message to those assholes who are trying to take away a season's worth of hard work." I breathe a little easier knowing Coach is scared, too. At the end of the day, we're all in this together.

"I'm sorry I let fear slow me down in the first half, but I'm ready to give it my all now," I say, and everyone starts hollering. Adrenaline pumps in my veins and I join in the collective cheering.

"Mess with a Warrior!!!" Stefa yells at the top of her lungs.

"Deal with her tribe!!" I join the girls yelling back with everything I have. We got this.

The second half starts and I feel I'm on fire, fighting every ball, blocking every forward attack. I'm levitating on the field, the loud cheers from the bleachers giving us the energy we need to keep pushing forward. Emma kicks the ball, and it lands in the middle of the field. Stefa reaches it before I can and starts running toward Alumnas' goal. From the corner of my eye, I see two defenders ready to block Stefa so I run toward them, placing myself in front of her. She quickly passes me the ball and keeps running. The two defenders surround me, but I kick the ball gently behind me, turn around, and lob it in the direction I know Stefa went. It's a perfect pass, and I hear the crowd going wild; I smile feeling the anticipation of a goal in my gut. Stefa makes it to the penalty box where Noelia is waiting. She decides to shoot for a goal, but their keeper deflects the shot with her fist. When she throws the ball back to the penalty box, Noelia executes a header, not allowing it to fall to the ground. When the ball hits the net, I fall to my knees. Saying a quick prayer in thanks, I get up and join my team in the celebration.

"Okay, we can't slow down. We got this," Noelia says, and we all nod our heads. Nothing is stopping us now.

It's like Alumnas de La Plata got the memo as well, they've been pressing us even more after we scored. The game becomes a back-and-forth with no real options to score, until Antonella, their number ten, passes our defense and shoots right in front of our goal. She scores, and now the match is tied, 1-1. I don't want to go to penalty kicks again; last week was a nail-biter, and it's not something I want to experience today. The game resumes. and I can't seem to find a way to make it past midfield. like Alumnas have multiplied and they're all following me.

I hear Coach yelling, "Unmark yourself, form a tight midfield, don't let them pass."

I look at Stefa and we start working in tandem, making short passes instead of trying to open the field. Every time we lose the ball, I let out a thread of curses, " Carechimba vida, hija de las mil putas. Que maricada."

I hear Stefa chuckling. "Dude, your Colombian cursing is fucking hilarious. Let's get back on track." I shake my head, amused that we can still laugh under all the stress. Sabrina recovers the ball for our team and makes a beautiful pass to Stefa. We both start running toward their goal, passing it back and forth, taking our time. With only a few minutes left, the last thing we need is for the other team to get possession of the ball. Noelia joins us, and the three of us form a block, moving steadily closer to their goalie. When we're in the penalty box, each of us is marked, and there's no room to pass the ball. I spin on my right foot, creating a distraction. When the defenders close their mark on me, I do a backheel flick, hitting the ball with all my might. Their goalie leaps to block the ball, but I hit it with such force that even though she grazes it with her gloved hands, the ball continues its path and lands inside the goal.

I start running toward the bleachers, where Mati and my family are sitting down. Tears run down my face; I'm in a trance. I probably just scored the championship goal. Mati is yelling like crazy, wearing my jersey, pride and love for me shining in his beautiful dark eyes. My team joins me, and we all hug and laugh.

"Okay team, let's go. A few more minutes before we can lift that cup," Coach says as he motions for us to head back to the pitch. The final minutes go by in a blur. We try to defend by keeping the ball under our feet. The Alumnas try a hail Mary—making way more faults than necessary—but we withstand their attacks. When the ref blows the whistle for the last time, I lift my arms in the air and start clapping. I feel like we redeemed ourselves in the second half, and whatever happens next, no one can take away from us the fact that we fought hard. We earned this victory. I hug my teammates, Coach, and all the Golden Warriors staff. I shake hands with a few Alumnas de La Plata players, they're understandably sad, but they're good sports—great competitors. I feel a pair of strong arms lifting me from the ground and I start laughing uncontrollably, finally feeling light enough to bask in this moment.

" Mi ángel , what a fucking game. I'm remarkably stunned by your magnificence. You're a warrior on the pitch and a goddess in my bed. I'll never stop praising you," Mati whispers in my ear, and the words go straight to my core, like everything he says with that Argentinian accent and sultry voice.

"Thank you, mi amor . I'm so damn happy," I say as I turn and jump in his arms. He immediately catches me, and I hug him as hard as I can. I kiss him with the same strength I hugged him, almost with bruising force. And he moans in return, damn if this man isn't my match. I hear someone clearing his throat behind us, and when Mati releases me and places me gently on the ground, Mom and Dad embrace me. Sofi joins in, and the next thing I know, Franco and Mati are part of the group hug as well. I feel so blessed to be able to experience this amazing moment with all of them. When I open my eyes and take in all my family surrounding me, I finally see my future. I want many more moments like this. I want to keep playing and winning more championships—this is my calling. Sofi takes out her phone and starts taking pictures: me and my parents, the entire family, me and Mati. But it isn't until this moment that I see we're surrounded by my family's security detail. Damn, it's like a bucket of cold water bringing me back to reality; we're still in danger. Even more so now that we won the game.

After the medal and trophy ceremony, I'm heading toward the locker room to shower and change, ready to go out and celebrate with the team and all of our families. The adrenaline rush is wearing off, and I'm starting to feel tired and hungry. I'd eat twenty empanadas in one sitting if I could.

The police squad trailing us, despite nothing happening, suddenly parts making way for an entourage of men. The blood drains from my head, leaving me lightheaded. I grab Stefa's arm since she's the closest to me, and when she catches on to what's happening, her face goes pale, too.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you all. I just wanted to personally congratulate you on an extraordinarily well-played game." We all are stunned, no one makes a peep. My dad exudes power, but this guy has an aura about him. Without ever seeing him in my life, I can tell he's a mafia capo. He has about twelve guys guarding him, and all their faces are hard, trained on his every word. Coach takes us all out of our stupor when he extends his hand, and the mystery man shakes it.

"Coach, nice to meet you in person. You have a great team on your hands, you must be proud. "

Coach manages a nervous smile and says, "I am. These women are splendid."

"Anyway, I don't want to keep you from celebrating. I just wanted to let you know that you taught me and the entire country a big lesson about resilience, courage, and not letting anyone get in the way of achieving dreams. I can assure, you are safe and no harm will come to your families. Sometimes, money is not the only thing you can gain out of a bet. Sometimes, life lessons are worth more. You're all safe now, you've earned it."

My mouth forms a perfect "O," and I hear a collective gasp around me. So this is the man behind the threats? Holy fucking shit. Who the fuck is he?

The man and his entourage leave as smugly as they appeared, and I notice the police spreading out, leaving their post since we're no longer under threat. The Alumnas de La Plata look as stunned as we are, just like the families and staff nearby.

"So, who is that guy anyway?" I ask Stefa, quietly. Afraid to say it out loud, and have him and his people come back for me.

"Dude, he's the Buenos Aires mafia capo. Emiliano Colucci. I don't know what changed his heart, but I've never heard about that man not following through with a threat." She opens her eyes, and I definitely get what she's saying. It's a fucking miracle we're alive.

I'm about to start taking my cleats off when someone opens the locker room door, and I hear a loud noise.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

For a moment, I think it's someone uncorking a bottle of champagne, but when Stefa collapses next to me, and a puddle of blood forms under her, I know she's been shot. I reach for her, but a sharp pain spreads through my leg, and I join Stefa on the floor .

"You were all told not to win, this should have never happened," I hear a male voice shout as there's commotion by the door. More shots are fired, and I place my body on top of Stefa's, trying to cover her.

" Policia Nacional, drop your gun right now." I hear one more gunshot, and then a deafening silence invades the locker room.

"Is everyone okay?" someone shouts. I immediately try to stand up, but the pain in my leg keeps me grounded.

"Here, I need help. Stefa is losing a lot of blood," I say in a breathy tone. I don't understand why I'm so tired. The paramedics rush to help Stefa. One of them glances at me, quickly masks the shock on his face, and then starts fussing over my leg.

"I'm fine, Stefa's the one who needs help," I say, feeling more tired with every word I say.

"You have a gunshot wound in your leg. I need to stop the bleeding before it's too late." Wait, what? I got shot? I thought that my pain was because I hit the bench where I was about to sit down. An oxygen mask is placed on my face and the world turns black.