The Zamboni took to the ice. I stayed back while the rest of the team filed toward the locker room. I needed a second to breathe.
That was when I saw Drew, slipping into a seat just behind the glass—one row up from where Mila and Avery sat. He didn’t wave. Didn’t nod. Just leaned forward, tie loose, suit jacket folded over one arm, and eyes intense beneath the press of arena lights. I caught his gaze. Focused. Steady. A silent signal that I wasn’t carrying this weight alone.
But it wasn’t Drew I kept glancing back to.
Mila sat forward as she had most of the time we were on the ice, elbows on her knees, eyes narrowed—not on the game but something distant. Distracted.
What happened?The question burned hotter than it should’ve. The look on her face made me want to defy my family’s mandate and take the weight from her shoulders.
Drew moved to intercept me on the way to the locker room. I let my teammates bypass us while I stepped to the side. Drew didn’t normally come to my games. Something had to be up.
We both remained silent until the last of my teammates filed into the locker room, Logan being among the stragglers. When I glanced at my brother, I clocked him watching Logan as the door shut after him. Drew caught my gaze, noting that I’d seen where he was looking.
“I heard something and wanted to give you a heads up, keep you in the know.” He notched his head in Logan’s direction. “Logan Mitchel’s dad lost everything—fired, stripped of his pension, drowning in dept.” Drew’s voice was low, rough. “Last I heard, his father’s not doing well. Drinking, behind on mortgage, car payments, probably even his kid’s tuition. Watch out for the kid, bet he’s holding a grudge.”
Drew’s mouth flattened. “And it doesn’t end there. I caught wind that Dunn’s people are circling—dangling favors, promises. Dunn knows a vendetta when he sees one, and he’s not above weaponizing it. So, if Logan looks like he’s just a jealous prick over Elise? Don’t buy it. There’s more at play.”
Sweat rolled down my face. Cold dread twisted behind my ribs.
Drew continued. “Logan’s a loose cannon. Same as his old man when it comes to anyone with the last name King.”
“Noted.” He’d told me enough to sketch out Logan’s play. This wasn’t about chasing Elise—it was about securing a future, claiming a business heiress to rebuild from the ashes of what his family lost. To make the people responsible pay.
“You need to stay ten steps ahead. Don’t get blindsided.”
I snapped back into the conversation. “I won’t.”
Coach stuck his head out and yelled for me to get my ass into the locker room. I nodded but paused when Drew grasped my bicep.
“Luke—whatever’s happening with Mila? Don’t let it blur the lines.”
“I don’t plan on it,” I ground out, irritated that he’d noticed. That anyone had. He gave a single nod, but his eyes lingered—as though he knew more than he was saying, or he was waiting for me to prove him wrong.
“Good.”
I jerked a nod and stalked off toward the locker room. I didn’t need a reminder. Especially not from Drew. I knew exactly what was expected of me. What this family demanded. But that didn’t stop the anger from climbing up my spine.
As I slapped my palms against the locker room doors and shoved them open, Logan’s name kept circling in my mind. His father. Dunn. Mila. Elise. Drew’s warning rang louder than the cheers rumbling through the arena walls when we’d scored earlier. The pieces were stacking, and none of them felt random.
Coach did his thing. I was there, but not. Thinking, waiting to get back on the ice. By the time we were cleared to leave the locker room, I was salivating for the game. Needing the hit of adrenaline, the clean rush of focus. Anything to shut my brain off.
The second we hit the ice again, instinct kicked in, and we dominated. I blocked a shot that should’ve slipped through the crease. Theo scored one more off a feed I barely remembered sending. I shot two into the corner of the net. By the final buzzer, fans were on their feet, the rink vibrating with noise. We didn't celebrate hard—this wasn’t the kind of win we let go to our heads. It was too easy. And my mind was focused on different battles.
In the locker room, the mood stayed level. Not tense, not loose. Focused.
Chase peeled off his pads. “Logan didn’t make a move toward Mila or Aves when he filed past them.”
“Yet,” Jax added, towel slung over his neck.
“He will.” I untied my skates. “His dad got fired from King Enterprises—lost the pension, lost the stability. Now Logan’s circling like he’s got something to prove.”
“Against you? Us?” Chase asked.
I nodded once. “He’s desperate. And desperation makes people reckless.”
Theo leaned back on the bench, stretching his shoulder. “So what’s his play? Is he trying to tie himself to Elise and score something for his dad—or is it personal?”
“Could be both,” I said. “Elise’s dad’s no joke. That family could open doors. Or hand him a loaded gun.”
