The Champion I Raised For Revenge - Chapter 11: Chapter 11
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Natalie surged ahead, her strokes powerful and sure. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I barely dared to breathe, terrified of breaking the tension in the air.
But in the final fifty meters, her pace faltered. Exhaustion weighed her down, sapping her strength. Meanwhile, Becca, steady and relentless, inched closer with every stroke.
My fists clenched, my knuckles white, and a cold sweat prickled across my forehead.
Jacob and Cassie erupted into frenzied cheers, bouncing on their toes. "Becca, you're unstoppable! Go! Leave Natalie in the dust!" they shrieked, flashing me smug, mocking grins.
Silently, I willed Natalie forward, praying for a last-second miracle. But with one final burst, Becca lunged ahead, her fingertips brushing the wall a fraction of a second sooner.
Becca took gold. Natalie took silver.
After the ceremony, Natalie pressed her medal into my hands, her eyes clouded with disappointment. "Mom, I gave it everything I had." I smoothed her damp hair and smiled softly.
"You were incredible. Fighting through a fever and still taking second place? That's something to be proud of."
Then Jacob swaggered over, Becca's gold medal dangling from his fingers like a trophy.
"See, Wanda? I told you—my Becca's the best. Your girl? Just not cut out for this."
White-hot fury shot through me. My hands shook as I snapped back, "She was sick! It's one competition—get over yourself!"
Jacob shoved the medal in my face, his smirk widening. "Take a good look. Gold. Proof my daughter's better than yours."
Before I could react, he yanked the silver medal from my grip and hurled it to the ground. Then, with deliberate cruelty, he stomped on it—once, twice—grinding it under his heel.
I stared, stunned, as the once-gleaming medal lay twisted and smeared with dirt. My vision blurred with rage, my entire body trembling.
But Jacob wasn't finished. "I want Natalie to admit defeat. Right here. Right now!"
He spun, searching for Becca—only to freeze. She was gone. His face paled as he frantically scanned the crowd, shouting her name. His phone calls went unanswered.
Realization hit him—his precious daughter had vanished.
Watching his panic, I couldn't help but laugh—cold and sharp. What kind of father only cared about his child when she wasn't there to flaunt?
But in the final fifty meters, her pace faltered. Exhaustion weighed her down, sapping her strength. Meanwhile, Becca, steady and relentless, inched closer with every stroke.
My fists clenched, my knuckles white, and a cold sweat prickled across my forehead.
Jacob and Cassie erupted into frenzied cheers, bouncing on their toes. "Becca, you're unstoppable! Go! Leave Natalie in the dust!" they shrieked, flashing me smug, mocking grins.
Silently, I willed Natalie forward, praying for a last-second miracle. But with one final burst, Becca lunged ahead, her fingertips brushing the wall a fraction of a second sooner.
Becca took gold. Natalie took silver.
After the ceremony, Natalie pressed her medal into my hands, her eyes clouded with disappointment. "Mom, I gave it everything I had." I smoothed her damp hair and smiled softly.
"You were incredible. Fighting through a fever and still taking second place? That's something to be proud of."
Then Jacob swaggered over, Becca's gold medal dangling from his fingers like a trophy.
"See, Wanda? I told you—my Becca's the best. Your girl? Just not cut out for this."
White-hot fury shot through me. My hands shook as I snapped back, "She was sick! It's one competition—get over yourself!"
Jacob shoved the medal in my face, his smirk widening. "Take a good look. Gold. Proof my daughter's better than yours."
Before I could react, he yanked the silver medal from my grip and hurled it to the ground. Then, with deliberate cruelty, he stomped on it—once, twice—grinding it under his heel.
I stared, stunned, as the once-gleaming medal lay twisted and smeared with dirt. My vision blurred with rage, my entire body trembling.
But Jacob wasn't finished. "I want Natalie to admit defeat. Right here. Right now!"
He spun, searching for Becca—only to freeze. She was gone. His face paled as he frantically scanned the crowd, shouting her name. His phone calls went unanswered.
Realization hit him—his precious daughter had vanished.
Watching his panic, I couldn't help but laugh—cold and sharp. What kind of father only cared about his child when she wasn't there to flaunt?
End of The Champion I Raised For Revenge Chapter 11. Continue reading Chapter 12 or return to The Champion I Raised For Revenge book page.