Nathaniel served another brutal shot—hard, fast, and angled. Dorothy lunged for it, her racquet slicing through the air. She returned it with a desperate swing but landed awkwardly.
Her foot twisted.
She stumbled.
Then fell—hard—striking her head against a jagged stone just off the edge of the court.
"Dorothy!" Theo screamed as he jumped over the low fence and sprinted toward her.
Everything stopped.
Dorothy lay still, her eyes closed, her forehead bleeding slightly from the impact. Gasps echoed through the park. Sonia ran to call an ambulance.
Theo knelt beside her, gently lifting her into his arms. "Dorothy, please... open your eyes."
Dorinda stood frozen, her mouth trembling.
Ham approached Nathaniel, who looked pale and shaken.
"Are you crazy?" Ham growled. "What the hell was that?"
"I—I didn't mean for that to happen," Nathaniel stammered.
Theo turned to him, his face flushed with rage. "She's a woman, Nathaniel! It's tennis—not a war zone. You used everything you had like she was your enemy!"
Nathaniel swallowed hard, guilt flickering behind his eyes. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt her."
Theo didn't reply. He was too focused on the unconscious woman in his arms. "I swear, if anything happens to her…"
The ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance.
Nathaniel took a step back. Everyone was staring at him—some in confusion, others in disgust.
And deep inside, his own voice was screaming:
What have you done?
He hadn't planned for this.
Revenge wasn't supposed to feel like this.
Especially not when the one lying motionless on the ground was the same woman whose laugh had started to echo in his dreams.
Theo carried Dorothy carefully out of the court and laid her on a nearby bench under the shade of a tree. He knelt beside her, dabbing the sweat from her forehead with his handkerchief, fear still thick in his voice.
"Are you okay? Do you feel dizzy? Should I call the doctor again?" Theo asked, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of pain.
Dorothy stirred, slowly opened her eyes, and gave a weak smile. "I'm fine," she murmured. "Just a scratch. Really, don't look so worried."
Theo frowned. "You hit your head on a stone, Dorothy. It wasn't nothing."
"I'll just go home so nanny can stretch my neck and rub some oil on it. That usually helps," she said with a small wince, rubbing the back of her head. "Though my head does ache a little."
At that moment, the doctor arrived, thanks to Sonia's quick call. He gave Dorothy a brief examination and reassured everyone that there was no concussion or serious injury.
"She'll be sore for a day or two," the doctor said. "But she's strong. Just needs some rest."
Everyone sighed with relief—except Theo, who still hovered protectively.
"You scared me," he whispered as the others moved away. "You're not allowed to do that again."
Dorothy reached for his hand and smiled. "Sorry. But I'm fine. See?"
Then Nathaniel stepped forward, looking visibly guilty but composed. "Dorothy," he said softly, "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to be that aggressive. It was supposed to be a fun game."
Dorothy looked up at him and smiled—her usual wide, heartwarming smile. "Don't worry, Nathaniel. It's just a game. And besides, I'm glad you didn't take it easy on me because I'm a woman. At least now I know all these people around here just let me win." She glanced at Theo teasingly.
Nathaniel's lips curved into a smile, the tension in his chest loosening. He held out his hand. "So... friends?"
Dorothy reached up and shook it firmly. "Friends."
Theo folded his arms and stared at the handshake with disbelief. "You're shaking hands with the man who nearly knocked you unconscious."
"Oh, come on," Dorothy laughed. "You're being dramatic. It wasn't that serious."
But Theo didn't smile. He stepped back, his jaw clenched.
Nathaniel, sensing the shift, offered, "Let me make it up to you. Will you have dinner with me?"
Before Dorothy could answer, Dorinda chimed in, her voice sweet but eyes sharp. "Well, since you two are getting along so well, I think it's a wonderful idea. I'm sure the rest of us have things to do, right?"
Everyone exchanged glances but stayed silent.
Nathaniel turned to Dorothy. "Would you like that?"
Dorothy glanced at Theo, who said nothing. She then turned back to Nathaniel. "Yes. It's a date then."
"Perfect," Nathaniel said, his smile faintly triumphant.
Dorinda's smile twitched into a satisfied grin. She gently brushed a strand of hair behind Dorothy's ear. "Enjoy, sister."
As they all began to leave the park, Dorothy turned briefly and gave her sister a knowing, wicked smile—half amusement, half warning.
Theo stepped in front of Nathaniel, blocking his path with his broad chest. His voice was low but firm, trembling with barely-contained fury.
"I don't like what you did to Dorothy."
Nathaniel met his eyes calmly. "Then I won't lie—I was wrong."
Theo didn't move. "She's not just my cousin. She's... precious to me. The one I admire most, even if I've kept it to myself. If you hurt her, Nathaniel, I swear you'll have me to deal with."
"I understand," Nathaniel replied, his tone level. "And I don't want this to ruin our friendship."
"It's not just about friendship anymore," Theo snapped. "I like her. A lot. I'm in love with her."
Nathaniel hesitated, then said, "I won't lie to you either. I'm interested too. But let's be fair—let Dorothy decide. We both step back and let her choose who she wants to be with."
Theo didn't respond immediately. His fists clenched once, then he nodded stiffly and turned away.
That evening, Nathaniel arrived at the Basiliou home with a bouquet of lilies, his heart pounding in his chest. Just as he stepped onto the porch, the heavy front door opened.
Mr. Josh stood tall, his face cold and his tone sharper than ever.
"I don't accept strangers in my house. And I certainly don't welcome men who want to take my niece out."
Nathaniel remained composed, lowering his voice respectfully. "Mr. Josh, I understand your concern. Dorothy is special. I respect her deeply."
Mr. Josh narrowed his eyes. "She's the joy of this household. You're not welcome here."
Nathaniel held out a small business card. "I know I can't ask you to trust me right away. But I own Morgan Tissue Factory—it's not a giant company, but it's mine. You can ask around about me. My intentions for Dorothy are sincere. If she accepts me, I'll marry her without hesitation."
Mr. Josh's mouth opened to retort—but before he could speak, Dorothy stepped out of the house, descending the stairs like a vision.
She wore a soft, deep blue dress that brought out the glow of her skin and the sparkle in her eyes. Nathaniel was briefly stunned.
"Hello, Nathaniel," she greeted, her smile gentle.
"Dorothy," her uncle interrupted. "As I said, he is not welcome here. And you cannot go out with someone you barely know."
Dorothy took a breath. "Uncle, Nathaniel is a good man. It's just dinner. I promise I won't stay out late. And... I'm not a little girl anymore."
She kissed her uncle's cheek, then took the bouquet and tucked it under her arm. With a calm, grown confidence, she took Nathaniel's hand and walked toward the car.
From upstairs, Dornida and Mrs. Sarah watched behind the curtains.
"You wouldn't believe it," Mrs. Sarah muttered, arms folded.
"I saw it," Dorinda said, eyes narrowed. "They're both so stubborn. So aggressive. They deserve each other."
Dorinda smiled, but there was something venomous in it—jealousy... or something more.