Chapter 459

Hayden didn’t push the conversation further. He must’ve sensed that I was still upset.

When I finally saw Steve, he was in a prison jumpsuit, his once stylish hair shaved down to almost nothing. I’d never seen him like that before. It almost brought tears to my eyes. Steve had clawed his way up to success, earning a spot in Jace’s circle purely on his own. But now, everything he worked for could be destroyed.

“Steve,” I called softly.

He looked up and smiled. “What are you doing here?”

That smile—same as always, like nothing could break him. No matter what, Steve always had a bright smile for me, like his world was all sunshine.

I couldn’t speak for a moment, and he laughed. “What? Do I look so bad you don’t even wanna talk to me?”

I shook my head. Jace said Steve had been in a bad place, but here he was, still smiling like nothing was wrong. But I knew better. He was putting on a show, hiding his pain for my sake.

“You’ll always be handsome,” I teased, playing along.

He let out a bitter laugh. “No need to butter me up.”

“We know you were set up. Jace and Hayden are both working on it. You just gotta hang in there, okay? It’ll be fine,” I said, trying to reassure him while steering the conversation toward what I needed to know.

Steve looked surprised that we believed him. Since his arrest, no one had been able to hear his side.

“We don’t have all the details. Just tell me who’s approached you lately, and how things started with Danilo. Don’t leave anything out,” I urged.

Steve closed his eyes, silent. I thought he was trying to remember, but when he opened them again, he said, “You guys need to stay out of this. I don’t wanna drag you down.”

His voice was full of despair.

“We’re not leaving you to deal with this alone. No matter who’s behind it, we’ll make sure they can’t pin this on you,” I said firmly.

“It’s no use. This isn’t Kehlmark, it’s Houston. You don’t know the people we’re up against,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Steve—”

“If you’re still my friend, then listen to me. Leave. Go home. Don’t stay here,” he said, gripping the bars between us, his voice rising.

“I’ll leave, but I came all this way. Can we at least talk a bit?” I tried to calm him down by changing the subject.

He shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about. Just go. The sooner, the better.”

“There aren’t any flights right now,” I reminded him, hoping to buy more time.

He tightened his grip on the bars, then let go, exhaustion taking over his face.

“Please, just tell me what happened,” I pleaded.

He sighed. “About a month and a half ago, someone from a club called Quartz Cue approached me. They offered me a villa. Didn’t say it outright, but I knew what they wanted. I turned them down. They came back again, I refused again. Then, they replaced my sparring partner with Danilo—the guy who died.”

“Did you know Danilo before that?”

“Yeah, we’d played a few times. Got along fine. But when he became my sparring partner, he changed. Showed up late, left early, started drinking. Sometimes he’d skip practice altogether. It messed up my whole schedule. When I asked for a new partner, he held a grudge.”

“Switching partners isn’t unusual. Danilo was a veteran. His behavior was deliberate—someone must’ve sent him to sabotage you,” Steve said, his eyes distant like he was piecing it together.

I stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“It’s Quartz Cue,” he said grimly. “They wanted this championship. They’re going for five consecutive wins, but their guy kept losing to me. The only way they could win was by taking me out.”

Suddenly, Steve’s emotions boiled over. He grabbed the bars, shouting, “Rea, I was framed! I didn’t do it… I didn’t do it…” His voice cracked, filled with desperation.