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Unfortunately, this fourth-round win means she has to sit in another dreadful press conference and pretend she doesn’t hate theclay. And pretend she didn’t notice that her soulmark was halfway on display after her match. A careless mistake she is still agonizing over even though no one has mentioned it to her face so far.

Luca has been diligent in trying to ignore Juliette Ricci. Sometimes when she sees Ricci, she’s right back in that locker room. She can feel the hand-warmed metal of her trophy against her arm, smell the light citrus and coconut of whatever products Ricci used, and remember the hope that maybe Ricci would apologize for her words and want to get to know Luca.

Then the bile of humiliation rises in her throat, and she has to forget the rest.

“Sorry, can you repeat the question?” Luca stares at the bright phone screen showing the audio waveforms rippling with her voice, capturing its slight quaver.

“Have you seen Twitter yet? The speculation about your soulmark?”

Luca swallows, trying to keep her expression neutral. At least she had a heads-up from Nicky. Still, her heart hammers against her chest like she’s been in a long rally. Which, in Paris, is unfortunately often. “Why would I want to comment on that?” she asks, glancing away from the reporter audacious enough to ask it. “What does that have to do with my tennis?” She wishes Twitter didn’t even exist. Maybe she should delete hers—not that it matters, now that the picture is out on the internet.

“There is speculation that your soulmate is your most competitive rival, Juliette Ricci. That must make playing tennis complicated. Especially after the Australian Open and the rest of the hard court swing.”

Luca wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole. No other reporters jump in to save her, which isn’t surprising; they’re all sharks with gleaming, hungry eyes.

Even the sound of Ricci’s name makes Luca’s skin prickle. She stares down at her hands and spots freckles of red clay on her forearms that she didn’t wash off properly. Juliette Ricci loves the red clay of Paris. She basks in her moniker as the Princess of Clay, and the luxuryof being an expected favorite at Roland-Garros. Luca scratches at her itchy skin and swallows the sharp, unpleasant feeling nagging in the back of her throat.

“We’re both professionals and nothing outside of tennis matters. I do not wish to comment on my soulmark. It is no one’s business but my own.” Luca hopes the answer satisfies the hungry reporters.

No such luck. The reporter narrows his eyes, latching on to something that Luca must’ve stumbled over without realizing it. “Well, with the Connolly Cup coming up, I’m sure we all would love to know how it feels to be on the same team together. Do you feel as though you’re rivals?”

Luca sucks in a breath through her teeth. She should play it cool and even, but unless she’s on a tennis court with a racket in hand, Luca has never been cool or even. “I don’t care. In order to be rivals, I would think that Ricci would have to beat me first.”

The reporter grins. “Thank you, Ms. Kacic. That’s all.”

Luca hates herself for snapping back, even though it’s true. She doesn’t want to care, and she doesn’t want to talk about Ricci. There’s no point. Ricci has made it clear that she has no interest in any type of relationship.

JULIETTE

“As your PR manager,” Livia begins, and Juliette groans.

“You’re my publicist, not my—”

“I have to say this is stupid,” Livia plows on as if Juliette never spoke.

Juliette lets her phone fall to her stomach as she lies on her ridiculously plush hotel bed. For the last two hours, she’s been scrolling through posts about Luca Kacic’s accidental soulmark reveal.

@HewittLover_69

wouldn’t it be ironic if kacic’s soulmate was ricci?

@idemoluca

there are millions of people with JUL- names. it’d be such a scam if it were ricci

@riccisbackhand

nah y’all remember AO? their faces after that handshake? there is something going on

Soulmarks get revealed all the time, even if people are diligent in hiding them. It’s especially hard for sweaty athletes with watch brand contracts to keep. What Twitter seems to find the most fascinating is that there aren’t that manyJul-names, and Luca had seemed very eager to cover hers up.

Juliette simply posted a winky face.

Now Livia has taken up residence on the adjacent love seat and is staring at Juliette, thoroughly disappointed by her choices.

“Come on, you have to admit it’s kind of funny,” Juliette says after a beat of deliberate silence. She kind of likes that Kacic had her soulmark revealed and will probably have to answer awkward questions about it. It might throw her off her rhythm, and Juliette isn’t above fanning the flames a little hotter.

Livia levels her with a brow raise that would make their father proud. She lifts her blue light blockers and nestles them in her messy bun. “I don’t like it.”