My Fiancé Cheated With His Coach’s Daughter — So The Star Quarterback Bought The Team And Fired Them Both

Part 1

I worked three jobs just to keep a roof over our heads while Craig chased his impossible football dreams.

He blew out his knee in college, and the medical bills drained every cent I had saved.

For two long years, I rubbed ice into his bruised joints and fed him lies about how he would eventually make the starting roster.

Then, the team’s star quarterback, Tyler, took a brutal hit during a preseason match, giving Craig a temporary spot on the field.

That tiny sliver of spotlight warped his mind.

Craig started coming home late, smelling like expensive perfume and offering nothing but cheap excuses.

I ignored the glaring red flags because I was terrified of facing the truth.

I needed to keep my custodial job at the stadium to maintain my fragile visa status, and Craig promised we’d get married to secure my green card.

Then came the miserable afternoon I walked into the locker room showers to drop off clean towels.

I heard the unmistakable sounds echoing off the damp tiles long before I saw them.

Craig had Heather pinned against the wall, the hot water washing over their tangled limbs.

Heather was the head cheerleader and the coach’s pampered daughter, an entitled girl who spent her weekends making my life a living nightmare.

My hands went numb, letting the stack of fresh towels tumble onto the soaked floor.

The heavy thud made them freeze in their tracks.

Craig wiped the water from his face and looked at me without a single ounce of regret.

He stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist, his voice dripping with condescension.

He flatly told me I was nothing but a temporary substitute, an illegal worker he kept around out of pity.

He laughed right in my face, claiming I would be deported the second he finally cut me loose.

Heather stood right behind him, tightly crossing her arms over her chest with a triumphant grin.

She commanded me to grab a mop and clean up their mess, claiming that was all my kind was good for.

I felt my chest tightening, the heavy air refusing to enter my burning lungs.

I took a shaky step back, the harsh fluorescent lights blurring as hot tears threatened to spill.

Dan, the team’s head coach, walked in right at that precise moment, drawn by the commotion.

Instead of reprimanding his cheating daughter or his player, he glared at me with pure disgust.

He coldly told me I was fired for trespassing and instructed Craig to have security throw me out.

Before I could turn to run away, a deep, commanding voice bounced off the metal lockers.

Tyler, the team’s actual star quarterback, stepped out from the dark shadows of the concrete hallway.

He was fully dressed, leaning casually against the doorframe, his sharp eyes locked onto Craig like a predator.

Tyler didn’t raise his voice, but the sudden drop in temperature in the room was undeniably palpable.

He pushed off the cinderblock wall and walked straight toward me, ignoring the other three people.

Tyler wrapped his heavy varsity jacket around my shaking shoulders.

He looked directly at Craig and flatly informed him that the bench was going to feel cold for the rest of the season.

Dan immediately puffed up his chest, loudly demanding to know what Tyler thought he was doing.

Tyler didn’t even flinch.

He calmly announced that nobody was firing me, because the two of us were getting married.

The silence that followed his statement wasly deafening.

Craig let out a pathetic scoff, calling Tyler crazy for risking his career over a green card worker.

Tyler finally turned his head to look at him, a tight muscle feathering along his sharp jawline.

He warned Craig that the rabid sports media would have a field day with a head coach covering up his daughter’s locker room affairs.

Dan’s face flushed a deep crimson, but he didn’t dare utter a single word in retaliation.

Tyler guided me out of the humid room, leaving them drowning in their own filth.

Tyler seamlessly moved me into his massive estate the very next day, refusing to let me return to the cramped apartment I shared with Craig.

He gave me a luxurious private suite and hired a dedicated staff to ensure I was comfortable.

I kept nervously asking him what he expected in return, terrified that there was some hidden catch.

He simply handed me a cup of coffee and stated that seeing Craig squirm was more than enough reward.

He bought me elegant dresses that cost significantly more than my annual salary and treated me with quiet respect.

But Heather wasn’t finished tormenting me.

She convinced her powerful father to make my life on the cheer squadly unbearable, forcing me to do punishing physical drills while the other girls giggled.

She continuously taunted me in the narrow hallways, whispering that Tyler would dump me the exact second the novelty finally wore off.

I stubbornly kept my head down, focusing intensely on my grueling training, fiercely determined not to give her the sick satisfaction of seeing me break.

I didn’t want to rely on Tyler to fight every single one of my battles.

Then came the team’s highly publicized annual welcome-back gala.

Tyler had a custom sapphire necklace and a breathtaking dark silk gown delivered to my room that morning.

When I cautiously walked into the glittering ballroom, the hushed whispers stopped, and every single pair of eyes shifted in my direction.

Craig spilled his expensive drink, staring at me like he was seeing me for the very first time.

Heather’s manicured face twisted into a terrifying mask of pure, unadulterated venom.

She stomped over, flanked by her sycophants, tightly gripping a microphone she had rudely snatched from the main stage.

Heather smirked, holding up the microphone to the entire room, demanding I prove the diamonds on my neck were real, unaware that Tyler had just walked up behind her with a piece of paper that would end her career.