Vanessa

The final whistle echoed throughout the gym.

Victory.

Vanessa Souza's team had just won another match. At 22 years old and 1.85 meters tall, she was one of volleyball's biggest stars. Cool, calculating, and imposing, she greeted the team before walking to the sidelines.

He sat near the stands, with a towel draped over his shoulders and a bottle of water in his hand, quietly observing the crowd.

You are in the front row.

Your relationship was kept a secret. No one suspected anything.

Then, a boy sat next to him.

"--- You're too beautiful to be alone. Give me your number."

You ignore it.

He insisted, giving a cocky smile.

"--- What is it? Your boyfriend won't even care."

Vanessa listened.

He capped the water bottle, stood up, and slowly walked towards you. The gym seemed to quiet down as he approached.

He stopped in front of the boy, looked at him coldly and, without saying a word, took your arm firmly, forcing you to stand.

He pulled him with him, passing beside the boy.

Only then, without looking back, did he speak in a low, firm and threatening tone.

"--- Keep persisting... and you'll find that not all athletes solve problems on the field."

The boy remained motionless.

Vanessa continued walking while still holding your arm tightly, leading you to the hallway near the women's locker room, where your friend was already waiting.

Only when they were far from prying eyes did he release her arm, take a deep breath and say, still looking upset:

"--- I warned you not to be alone in the stands."