Dominance Evolution System: Sweat, Sex, and Streetball-Chapter 216: Leftovers

Saya froze when Nash’s finger slid away from her lips. For a second, she still looked like she had won, mouth slightly open, that practiced, tempting look on her face.

Then Nash spoke, and reality snapped back.

"The offer looks nice," he said, tilting his head. "I’ll give you that. Sweet talk, a girl ready to forget the past, promising to make me see stars. Tempting package, no lie."

Her eyes brightened again, confidence rushing back. She took a step closer, fingers brushing his arm.

"See? Knew you’d come around." Her voice dropped. "We can start tonight if you want. I’ll make up for every second wasted with that loser. You’ll forget everything once I—"

"But you’re right," Nash cut in, smooth as glass. "Just like you said, my standards changed. And now?" He smirked. "I’ve got a billion better options than Roam’s leftovers."

The smile on Saya’s face slowly broke into pieces like glass hitting concrete. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

She stood completely still for a few seconds, her mouth hanging open, eyes wide and unblinking. Around them, the noise of the market faded away like someone had turned down the volume.

"...Leftovers?" she finally whispered, the word sour on her tongue, like biting into spoiled fruit.

Nash didn’t look away. His expression was cold, yet calm. Too calm, like it came right from his honestly.

"Yes. Leftovers. That’s what you are. Roam’s trash, trying to crawl back now that your life is falling apart. I’ve got better options now, Saya. Women who aren’t bad memories."

Her pupils widened. The corner of her left eye twitched, just once. Her shoulders tensed, like someone had zapped her with a weak shock.

That tiny bit of hope inside her died instantly, replaced by pure, confused pain.

"You... you’re joking," she stammered, looking between Nash and Zayela, searching their faces for any sign this was some twisted prank. "You can’t mean that. Not after I just apologized. Not after..."

"I mean it," Nash said. "And the fact that you don’t get why proves how little you ever knew me."

A strange feeling crawled over Saya’s skin, something she wasn’t used to, at least in that form.

At this moment, all her hope, scheme, and ideas vanished, replaced by a word too heavy for her little mind.

A leftover.

A leftover from a loser.

In fact, if the name was a bomb in itself, the knowledge she had about it was the shockwave, as she wasn’t just a leftover from Roam, but all the guys from the team she had to do to win a game.

Her face burned red, the heat spreading down her neck like spilled paint. Her hands, still half-reaching toward him, curled into fists so tight her nails dug into her palms.

Nah, she could take any insult, bitch, traitor, evil if you wanted, but not this one. Not a fucking used li

She swallowed hard, once, twice, she tried to laugh. It came out choked.

"Nash... You... you’re calling me leftovers? After everything we—"

"After everything you did?" Nash cut in, still perfectly calm. "Yeah. Exactly. I don’t even know what you’re expecting here. You mocked my dick, and now you want it? You pretended to be with me while screwing Roam. You really think you’re any kind of prize? What made you so overconfident? So yeah, Saya. Leftovers, that’s what you are, and I’ve moved on to better things."

Saya’s bottom lip shook. She bit down on it hard, trying to hold herself together, but the faces around them were turning into smudges of color.

She could feel people staring. Her reputation, the thing she’d always swung around like a sword, was crumbling like dry dirt in her hands.

Leftover, a fucking leftover, not even worth being a cumdump. That was too much.

She stepped back. Then again, her anger was building.

Her breath came fast and thin. Her fingers curled tight, then loosened, then curled again. The heat in her cheeks wasn’t just shame anymore, it was rage, dark and boiling. Her eyes sharpened.

"You think you can just... just say that?" Her voice hit a pitch foreign to her usual. "After I showed up here, after I told you everything, after I said I’d fix it? And now you’re standing there with your shiny new little girl, calling me Roam’s scraps like I’m some fucking sex toy?"

Zayela rolled her weight onto one hip, that stupid little smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth.

Saya saw it. That smirk snapped the last string holding her together.

"Fuck you," she spat, stepping forward again. "Fuck both of you. You really think you’re better now? You think those girls want you and not your wins, your glow-up, your stupid fame? They’re playing you the same way I did, just smarter. At least I didn’t lie when I was screwing Roam behind your back!"

Nash didn’t even blink. He just smiled slightly. This answer was better.

"You keep saying that like honesty about betrayal makes it noble." He shook his head slowly. "Zayela didn’t wait for me to become ’worth something.’ She was there when I was needed it the most. She saw the work. She helped me grow. She didn’t need me to be on top to choose me. That’s the... nah, one, of many differences between her and you."

Zayela remained completely still beside Nash, not making a single sound. Her eyes widened slightly as she listened to Nash’s words, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips.

She couldn’t help but admire him in that moment.

Nash continued.

"You want to talk about using people? Fine. Let us talk. No one is using me. I give protection, growth, pleasure, and status. And I receive loyalty and real desire in return."

His fingers tapped against his elbow.

"That is how things actually work when you stop being a parasite and start being someone who holds things together." His mouth curled, just slightly. "And that? That is something a parasite like you will never have with me."

Saya jerked back like he had hit her.

"Fuck you—!"

Her hand shot out, quick and sharp with anger, but Nash caught her wrist before it could land.

He did not even move his feet. His fingers closed around her skin, tight but not crushing. He had not needed to be quick. He had known it was coming, like he had counted every step of her anger before she even felt it.

Saya gasped, more shocked than hurt, eyes wide as she stared at her trapped hand.

"Here’s the thing," Nash said quietly, thumb pressing lightly against her racing pulse. "I’m not coming back, but this isn’t about maturity. It’s not about moving on or letting go. This is personal. I have real beef with you. With Roam. With every single one of you."

Her breath hitched.

"When we meet on the court, and we will, I’m going to crush you. All of you. Brick by brick. Publicly. Thoroughly. Until the underground remembers your names more than mine. I have no good intentions toward any of you. None."

Saya’s face twisted through a dozen emotions: fury, disbelief, fear, then back to raw anger. She tried to yank her wrist free, but his hold didn’t budge.

"You’re pathetic," she snarled, voice cracking. "Acting all high and mighty when you’re still just the same weak boy who cried in the locker room. One day, your little harem is gonna see the real you and drop your ass. Then you’ll come crawling back—"

Nash released her wrist and stepped back, turning toward Zayela as if Saya had already become background noise.

"We’re done here."

Saya staggered, cradling her wrist, chest heaving. For a long second, she stood there, ponytail disheveled, cheeks burning, searching his face for any crack.

But she found none.

"Fine!" she finally screamed, voice breaking. "But when Roam and the team break you again, don’t come crying to me, you arrogant piece of shit!"

She spun around so fast her hair whipped the air, hands balled into fists, stomping straight into the sea of people in the market.

Every step was heavy, shoulders tight like she was carrying a damn boulder on them.

Eyes burning, she shoved past a fruit seller without even looking back.

Zayela let out a slow breath, her shoulders finally dropping as she watched her disappear. She turned to Nash, a smile on her lips.

"Good job. You handled that well," she said.

Nash didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the spot where Saya had disappeared between market stalls. After a second, a faint, satisfied smirk formed on his mouth.

"Yeah," he murmured, rubbing his thumb absently along his knuckles. "Felt good to finally say all that out loud."

And for the first time since his evolution, that old, little pain in his chest didn’t feel quite so heavy.