Chapter 1

This might be Lilian’s last chance.

At twenty-two, she was older than all the other girls at her Olympic gymnastics academy. Despite winning a bronze medal at the last Olympics, the specter of losing her sponsors loomed over her. Because of this, her mother worked tirelessly, morning, noon, and night, to secure the best coach.

“What do you mean? How does a coach decide to quit overnight?” Helena’s voice sliced through the air as she spoke into her phone, pacing the length of the living room. The sharp tap of her stiletto heels echoed her agitation as she confronted the gym manager.

“I ... I don’t know what to say,” the manager stammered nervously on the other end. “He just came in yesterday saying he’d received an offer from the Russians and would be leaving at the end of this week.”

Lilian could hear the tremor in his voice as he tried to appease her mother.

Ever since Lilian was small, Helena had always been this way—unyielding and determined. Not that Lilian had grown much taller since then. Perhaps due to the demands of her sport, she had always been petite. However, her size suffered from her genetics. Having inherited huge breasts from her mother, they ended up becoming a problem rather than an advantage.

‘Though it’s not so bad being noticed,’ she would muse occasionally, catching the lingering gazes of young men, especially when she wore her sleek leotard that clung to every contour of her athletic frame.

In stark contrast, her mother was statuesque, towering even over men. Her long legs seemed to go on forever, always accentuated by her razor-thin heels. Helena exuded a confidence that commanded attention, unafraid to assert herself and fiercely protective of her daughter.

Yet even she faced situations beyond her control, like this one.

“Forget it. I’ll find another coach,” Helena declared, snapping her phone shut decisively. The tension in her shoulders slowly eased as she turned to face Lilian, her eyes blazing with determination.

Lilian watched her mother, trying to read the resolve etched on her face. ‘This is my last chance,’ she thought, willing herself to remain hopeful.

“Mom, any ideas?” Lilian asked softly, seeking reassurance in the confidence that her mother always seemed to have.

“I do,” Helena replied, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “A few days ago, I received an email.” She began scrolling through her inbox, eyes scanning the myriad messages from sponsors and brands that filled her screen. Amidst the clutter, one message had caught her attention.

“Ah! Here it is.” Helena’s eyes sparkled as she handed the phone to her daughter. “Read it and tell me what you think.”

Lilian skimmed the email, her eyes flickering over the promising words before setting the phone down. “It’s too good to be true,” she murmured, looking up at her mother.

“Even so,” Helena replied, her tone resolute. “He’s a European coach. I verified his credentials. He was at the last Olympics, and every girl he trained became a medalist.” She leaned back, crossing her elegant legs. “However, it appears he’s looking to increase his salary.”

“Wouldn’t the Russian team be a better fit for him, then?” Lilian questioned, arching an eyebrow.

“Fortunately for us, no.” Helena’s eyes sparkled with a touch of cunning. “He’s of Ukrainian descent. He doesn’t want anything to do with the Russian team.”

“Still,” Lilian sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “I’m concerned. Did you see the end of his email?”

“That he has peculiar training methods?” Helena shrugged slightly. “Who isn’t a bit peculiar in this industry?”

“Right.” Lilian nodded slowly. “Well ... it can’t hurt to try.”

‘We don’t really have any other options,’ she thought, pushing aside her doubts.

It took several weeks for Vladimir to arrive in their city. On the day he did, he wasted no time. After a swift check-in at his hotel, he headed straight to the training center.

It was a crisp Saturday morning. Usually, the facility would echo with the sounds of athletes honing their skills, but in the off-season, it stood quiet and almost serene. Only Lilian and Helena were there to greet him.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Vlad said, extending a firm hand to Lilian. His grip was strong, his palm warm against hers. “I saw your performance at the last Olympics.” His accent was thick, each word tinged with the melodic roughness of Eastern Europe.

Lilian met his gaze, noting the sharpness in his steel-blue eyes. “What did you think, Coach Vladimir?” she asked a subtle challenge in her voice.

“Far below what you’re capable of,” he replied without hesitation. A hint of a smile played on his lips. “And please, call me Vlad.”

Helena and Lilian exchanged a glance before their guarded expressions softened. His straightforwardness was exactly what they needed; professional yet refreshingly candid.

“Shall we begin?” Vlad clapped his hands together, the sound echoing in the spacious gymnasium.

“Wait, weren’t we just going to meet today?” Lilian asked, surprised. She gestured to her casual attire, a simple tank top, and joggers, not exactly training gear.

“Exactly. We also need to finalize the paperwork with the academy,” Helena added, ever the meticulous planner.

“No need,” Vlad replied calmly. “My contract will be directly with you. For now, I will train only Lilian.” He paused, his gaze steady. “My method focuses on one athlete at a time. There are no distractions.”

Helena’s lips curled into a pleased smile. The idea of her daughter receiving undivided attention appealed to her ambitions.

“But I didn’t bring my training clothes,” Lilian protested lightly.

Vlad considered her for a moment. “Do you have an ice bath at the facility?”

“Yes,” Lilian answered, intrigued. “We use it after training sessions.”

“Excellent.” He nodded appreciatively. “We’ll start there.”

Inside the women’s locker room, two enormous bathtubs stood. Reserved exclusively for post-training recovery, they were often filled with ice-cold water to soothe tired muscles.

Lilian hovered near one of the tubs, her fingers nervously tracing circles on the cool ceramic edge. The presence of the new coach, Vlad, unsettled her. She felt a flush rise to her cheeks at the thought of changing before him.

“Where can I find the ice?” Vlad inquired, his deep voice echoing slightly in the tiled space. He seemed to sense her discomfort, offering her a subtle opportunity to compose herself.