Nathan pulled his car into the familiar circular driveway of his childhood home. The Stevenson estate—not as grand as the Blackwood mansion, but impressive nonetheless—glowed with warm light against the evening sky. His stomach knotted as he killed the engine.
Sunday family dinner. Normally a highlight of his week. Today, a guaranteed interrogation.
The Blades had won three of their last four games. Nathan had scored six goals and recorded nine assists. Sports analysts were calling him "the missing piece in the Blackwood strategy." His face had appeared on billboards across the city with the tagline "A New Blade Sharpens the Edge."
Frederick Stevenson would hate every bit of it.
"Uncle Nathan!" His seven-year-old nephew collided with his legs the moment he entered. "Did you bring me a
