Chapter Two: Grumpy footballer 

The evening air at The Savage mansion was calm, but the private football pitch behind the house was anything but.

The sound of a ball hitting the net echoed sharply. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Xander Savage was alone on the pitch, dressed in a black training kit, boots digging into the grass as he practiced relentlessly. Sweat rolled down his temple, his breathing heavy, controlled but his mind was far from calm.

He sprinted forward, struck the ball hard, and watched it slam into the goalpost. He didn't celebrate. He turned, jaw tight, eyes dark. Another ball rolled to his feet, he kicked again. Harder.

"Brooding again?" a voice called out.

Xander didn't turn.

Wendy walked onto the pitch, phone in hand, blue hair tied up casually. She wore an oversized hoodie and trainers, chewing gum as she approached him like this was a normal evening-which it was.

"You're going to break something if you keep doing that," she said lightly. "Relax, bro." 

Xander finally stopped, hands on his hips. "What do you want, Wendy?"

She grinned. "Wow. Someone's grumpy."

She held up her phone. "Look."

Xander glanced at the screen. Pictures from the match filled it-him scoring, him celebrating, him shaking hands with Wendy. His face hardened instantly. He walked over, grabbed the phone, scrolled fast, then tossed it onto the grass.

Wendy gasped dramatically. "Excuse you!"

"She blocked me," Xander said flatly.

Wendy blinked, then burst out laughing. "Oh my God," she said between laughs. "Is that what this is about?"

Xander stared at her. "I'm serious."

"So am I," Wendy replied, wiping her eyes. "You're acting like she deleted you from existence."

"She blocked me on Snapchat," he snapped. "No explanation. Nothing, just ghosted."

Wendy bent down, picked up her phone, and dusted it off. "Relax. It's not that deep."

Xander scoffed. "Not that deep?"

"It's Snapchat, Xander. People block each other for breathing wrong or mood wings." 

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing. "We were talking. For two weeks."

"Exactly," Wendy said. "Two weeks. Not two years."

"She laughed at my jokes. She stayed up late with me. She sent voice notes." His voice lowered. "Then she blocked me."

Wendy raised an eyebrow. "You're lucky."

"Lucky?" he repeated sharply.

"Yes," she said. "Because no one knows she was your talking stage. Imagine if that leaked."

Xander stopped pacing. "Why would it leak?"

Wendy smirked. "Because you're Xander Savage. People breathe and it trends."

He clenched his jaw. "How can she play me like that?"

Wendy shrugged. "Freya plays everyone."

"That's not funny."

"I'm not joking," Wendy said. "That's literally her reputation."

Xander stared at the grass. "Then why talk to me at all?"

"So you just noticed her like two weeks ago?" Wendy softened slightly. "Well, maybe she liked you. Maybe she didn't want to."

"I only noticed her three weeks ago from a photograph she took of me." He laughed bitterly. "But her attitude makes no sense. She approached me herself."

"It does make sense for someone like her."

Xander looked up. "You're still going to be friends with her, aren't you?"

"Obviously," Wendy said easily. "We're not really friends but we talk." 

His eyes darkened. "You'll still talk to her even after this?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "She didn't do anything to me."

"She embarrassed me."

"You embarrassed yourself by catching feelings," Wendy shot back.

Silence fell between them. Then Wendy sighed. "Look, bro. She blocks people when things feel real. That's her thing."

Xander's fists clenched. "That doesn't make it okay."

"No," Wendy agreed. "But it makes it her."

She turned to leave. "Try not to break the goalpost."

"Wendy."

She paused. "Yeah?"

"If she talks to you about me..."

"I won't tell you," Wendy finished. "Good night, Savage."

She walked away, leaving him alone under the dim pitch lights. Xander stood still for a long moment, then he ran. He charged toward the ball and kicked it with all the anger in his chest. The ball flew violently into the net, he didn't stop.

 ***

The next day, Freya Woods sat upright in a quiet waiting area, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her camera bag rested at her feet. Her portfolio was placed carefully beside her. Her heart was racing.

She exhaled slowly, then whispered, "Please."

She had applied for the position of Assistant Photographer and Fashion Stylist at LEGACY, one of the most respected creative companies in the UK.

Fashion. Media. Influence. Everything she loved. The receptionist had told her something unusual earlier. "The CEO wants to see you herself."

That alone had nearly made Freya turn around and run. She glanced down at her hands, then at her portfolio. Inside were her best works-events, portraits, campus shoots, candid moments frozen perfectly.

"You've got this," she murmured.

Suddenly, movement stirred the room. People straightened, whispers spread. The door opened.

"She's here."

Everyone stood instantly. Freya shot up with the rest, her heart slamming. A woman walked in, she was tall, elegant, dressed in a sharp cream suit. Her presence filled the space effortlessly.

The CEO of LEGACY.

She didn't smile. She didn't greet anyone. She walked straight into her office, the door closed behind her.

Freya swallowed hard and sat down slowly.

"She's scary," someone whispered nearby.

"She's brilliant," another replied.

Freya leaned back slightly, trying to calm her breathing. Why would she want to see me personally? She pressed her lips together. Then footsteps echoed again, someone else walked in.

Freya looked up. Her stomach dropped.

Xander Savage walked in. He wore a clean black jacket, hair neat, he wasn't smiling as usual. Their eyes met instantly, his expression hardened, so did hers.

He broke eye contact first and walked past her, straight toward the CEO's office. Freya frowned slightly.

"Why is he here?" She leaned back, thinking.

"Probably an endorsement," she muttered under her breath. "He's a star."

She adjusted her grip on her portfolio, trying not to care. Then whispers started again.

"That's him."

"The football prodigy."

"Isn't he...?"

"Yeah."

Freya tilted her head slightly, listening.

"That's the CEO's son."

Her heart skipped.

"What?"

"I heard it too."

"He's her only son."

Freya's chest tightened. Her gaze snapped to the office door Xander had entered. Her pulse raced.

The CEO's son.

Her fingers curled slowly around her portfolio. Fear crept into her chest. 

"What have I walked into?" Her heart pounded harder as she stared at the closed door.

Chapter Three: Crying to mummy

Courtney Savage sat comfortably behind her wide glass desk, one manicured hand resting on a leather folder, the other wrapped around a porcelain cup of tea. Sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling windows of her office, casting a soft glow over the polished wood floors and the framed photographs lining the walls. Fashion campaigns, award ceremonies, moments of power and legacy frozen in time.

She looked nothing like someone approaching forty.

Courtney Savage was slender, elegant, and effortlessly beautiful. Her dark hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, her posture straight without stiffness. Everything about her spoke of control, of a woman who had built an empire and knew exactly how to hold it. Across from her stood her son.

Xander leaned casually against the edge of the desk, hands in his pockets, dressed far more simply than the room demanded. His presence softened the sharp edges of the space, grounding it in something warmer, more human.

Courtney smiled at him, eyes shining. "I still can't believe you're here."

Xander lifted a brow. "I told you I'd come eventually."

"Eventually is not today," she said lightly. "This is the first time you've stepped into LEGACY since I gave birth to you."

He shrugged. "You never needed me here."

"That's not true," Courtney replied, her voice gentle but firm. "I've always wanted you here. I just never pushed."

Xander's lips curved faintly. "I know."

She studied him for a moment, then laughed softly. "And now you decide to visit one week before my fortieth birthday."

He smiled properly this time. "I promised I'd be your driver and personal assistant for the week."

Courtney laughed outright. "My star footballer son reduced to carrying my bags?"

"You love it," he teased. "You know you do."

"I do," she admitted. "I really do."

There was a knock at the door before she could say more.

"Come in," Courtney called.

The door opened, and Watz, her long-time assistant, stepped inside holding a tablet. She was composed, efficient, and always alert.

"Mrs Savage," Watz said, "the photographer, Freya Woods, is outside for her interview."

Xander's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He looked away.

Courtney nodded thoughtfully. "Alright. Let her in... in thirty minutes."

Watz blinked once. "Thirty?"

"Yes," Courtney replied calmly. "That will be all."

"Okay," Watz said, already turning toward the door.

As soon as she left, Courtney reached for a slim folder on her desk. The name printed neatly across the top caught her attention.

FREYA WOODS

She opened it, scanning through the pages with growing interest. Her brows lifted slightly as she flipped through printed photographs and credentials.

"Hmm," she murmured.

Xander straightened a little.

Courtney glanced up at him. "By any chance," she said casually, "do you know a Freya Woods?"

Xander met her gaze evenly. "I do."

"Same university," she continued. "North Fall."

"Yes," he said.

"Do you know her personally?" Courtney asked.

"Not personally," Xander replied smoothly. "But she's well known. She's very good."

Courtney paused, watching him carefully. "Good how?"

"She's the best photographer and fashion stylist in the school," he said without hesitation. "Everyone knows her work."

Courtney hummed, thoughtful. "You sound confident."

"I am," Xander said simply. "You should give her a trial."

Courtney considered that, tapping her finger lightly against the desk. "Alright," she said at last. "I'll take note."

Xander nodded. "I'll see you later then. I want to take a look around the company."

Courtney smiled warmly. "Don't take too long."

He leaned down and pecked her cheek, the gesture natural and affectionate. At that exact moment, there was a soft knock.

"Come in," Courtney said.

The door opened, and Freya Woods stepped inside. The room seemed to shift, Xander turned. For a brief second, their eyes met. Then he looked away. He didn't greet or acknowledge her. He walked straight past her and out of the office without a word.

Freya stood frozen for a moment, then lifted her chin and walked in fully, taking a seat opposite Courtney without being asked. Courtney observed her quietly.

***

The interview did not go as Courtney had expected.

Freya sat with her legs crossed, posture relaxed to the point of arrogance. She answered questions quickly, sometimes too quickly, her confidence spilling into impatience. When Courtney asked about teamwork, Freya smirked. When asked about brand image, she interrupted.

"I don't follow rules that limit creativity," Freya said. "I set trends. I don't represent brands, I elevate them."

Courtney watched her steadily. "And how do you handle criticism?"

Freya shrugged. "If it's useful, I take it. If it's not, I ignore it."

There was no humility. No restraint. And beneath it all, nervousness cracked through her voice. She stumbled over words she normally owned, hands twitching in her lap, her breath uneven. By the time the interview ended, Courtney already knew her decision.

"I'm sorry," Courtney said, folding her hands. "LEGACY won't be able to hire you."

Freya's face fell instantly.

"You're talented," Courtney continued calmly, "but you're not fit to represent this company."

Tears filled Freya's eyes despite her effort to hold them back. She nodded once. "Thank you for your time."

She stood quickly and left. The door closed behind her.

Courtney exhaled slowly, then clicked her tongue in frustration. "Sorry, son," she muttered to the empty room. "I tried. Trust me."

***

Freya stumbled into the elevator, tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks. The doors slid open just as someone stepped inside.

Xander looked at her, startled. Her face was red, eyes glassy, shoulders tense. For a moment, something flickered across his expression, then it hardened. The doors closed.

Freya laughed bitterly. "This is your fault."

Xander said nothing.

"You told her horrible things about me," she snapped. "You ruined my interview."

"That's not true," he said quietly.

"Oh please," Freya scoffed. "You couldn't handle being blocked, so you went crying to mummy."

His jaw clenched.

"You're a spoilt, arrogant, ruthless brat," she continued, voice shaking with anger. "You think you can destroy people because you can't take rejection."

Xander stared straight ahead.

"I hope you're happy," she finished.

The elevator stopped. Xander stepped out without a word. The doors closed behind him.

Chapter Four: Damage control

Xander Savage was sleeping when his bedroom door slammed open.

"XANDER!"

He jerked awake, heart racing, eyes unfocused as sunlight streamed through the tall windows of his room. His phone vibrated violently on the bedside table, screen lighting up again and again.

"What..." he muttered, pushing himself upright.

Wendy stood at the foot of his bed, blue hair loose, face pale but sharp with anger. She was holding her phone out toward him like evidence.

"You're trending," she said. "And not for football."

Xander frowned, rubbing his face. "What are you talking about?"

"Freya Woods," Wendy snapped. "She posted your Snapchat chats."

The words hit him like cold water. He grabbed his phone, fingers clumsy as he unlocked it. Notifications flooded the screen. Mentions. Headlines. Screenshots. His name everywhere.

XANDER SAVAGE EXPOSED?

LEGACY CEO'S SON ACCUSED OF SABOTAGE!

PHOTOGRAPHER CLAIMS REJECTION COST HER CAREER

Xander's chest tightened as he scrolled. There they were. Messages he recognized. Voice notes. Screenshots of conversations from weeks ago. Some cropped. Some out of context. Some painfully real.

Freya's caption sat boldly at the top.

I rejected him. Then suddenly LEGACY wasn't hiring anymore. Funny how power works.

His hands shook.

"She leaked everything," Wendy continued, pacing. "Twitter's on fire. TikTok's worse. Half the internet thinks you ruined her career. The other half thinks she's clout chasing."

Xander stared at the screen, throat dry. "She said what?"

"That you're the CEO's son who couldn't take rejection," Wendy said flatly. "Congratulations."

He let the phone drop onto the bed.

"She blocked me," he said quietly. "I never even..."

"Doesn't matter," Wendy cut in. "This is bad. Mum and Dad are going to lose it."

As if summoned by the thought, footsteps echoed faintly from the corridor.

Wendy crossed her arms. "They're going to kill you for this scandal."

Xander leaned back against the headboard, closing his eyes. He drew in a slow breath, then another, trying to steady himself.

"I didn't do anything wrong," he said, more to himself than to her.

Wendy scoffed. "Try telling the internet that."

***

Breakfast at the Savage household was usually quiet.

Greg Savage sat at the head of the table, jaw clenched, newspaper folded neatly but untouched beside his plate. Courtney sat opposite him, posture composed but eyes hard. Wendy picked angrily at her food. Xander sat straight-backed, hands folded, expression calm in the way only made people angrier.

"Do you understand," Greg said slowly, "the position you've put this family in?"

Xander nodded. "Yes, sir."

Greg's hand slammed against the table. "You are not just a footballer. You are our son. You carry our name."

"I know," Xander said quietly.

Courtney turned to him, disappointment sharper than anger in her gaze. "You told me you didn't know her personally."

Xander swallowed. "I should have been clearer. I'm sorry, Mum."

Greg scoffed. "Sorry won't fix the headlines."

Courtney leaned back slightly. "Why did you ask me to give her a trial if you knew her?"

Xander met her eyes. "Because she's talented. And because I didn't want what happened between us to affect her career."

Silence followed.

Wendy laughed harshly. "Look where that got you."

Courtney sighed, rubbing her temple. "I didn't hire her because she wasn't fit. She lacked etiquette, manners, humility, professionalism, and confidence."

"She was rude," Greg added. "Arrogant."

"And now she's trying to destroy us," Wendy said. "She's my enemy for life."

Xander looked down at his plate. "I'm sorry," he said again. "To all of you."

Courtney studied him for a long moment. "This is why we have PR," she said at last. "And they're handling it."

He nodded. "I understand."

Greg's voice softened only slightly. "This cannot happen again."

"It won't," Xander promised. But even as he said it, his chest felt tight.

***

Freya adjusted her camera lens, forcing a smile as her client laughed across the small café table.

"Let's take five," the woman said, standing. "Coffee break?"

"Sure," Freya replied automatically. She set the camera down and reached for her phone. The notification was already there.

OFFICIAL STATEMENT FROM XANDER SAVAGE

Her fingers trembled as she opened it. It read:

(The Snapchat conversations circulating online are false. I have never met or spoken to Freya Woods personally. Any claims suggesting otherwise are untrue.)

Her vision blurred. She scrolled. She glared at thousands of comments: 

"She's lying."

"Clout chaser."

"Trying to bring him down."

"Disgusting behaviour."

Her hands began to shake uncontrollably.

"He denied everything," she whispered. She locked her phone, swallowing hard, trying to breathe.

***

The art gallery at North Fall University was quiet, the way Freya liked it. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, dust motes floating in the air. She walked between shelves, searching for a magazine she needed for a project, her mind spinning.

"Freya."

She turned sharply.

Xander stood behind her, hoodie pulled low, hands raised slightly as if to calm her.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

"You ruined my life," she shot back. "And now you want to talk?"

"I didn't tell my mum not to hire you," he said quickly. "I swear."

She laughed bitterly. "Then what about the press release?"

"My mother controls my PR," he replied. "I woke up to it too. It was damage control."

"So you just let them call me a liar?"

His jaw tightened. "You shouldn't have posted our private conversations."

Her eyes flashed. "You made me look crazy."

"And you made me look corrupt," he said. "We're both wrong."

Freya's chest heaved. She pulled out her phone. "Say that on live."

Xander's eyes widened. "Don't."

She tapped the screen. He moved fast, pulling his hoodie over his face and turning away as the live notification flashed.

"XANDER SAVAGE JUST STALKED ME," Freya said loudly into her phone, already moving. "Look at this."

He ran.

Freya dropped her bag, camera clattering to the floor as she chased him, breath burning, phone held high. Comments flooded the screen, hearts flying, messages scrolling too fast to read.

"He's running!" she shouted. "Why are you running if you're innocent?"

They turned corners, students staring, voices rising. Then he was gone. Freya stopped abruptly, chest heaving, spinning in place. She had lost him. The live video continued.