She trusts me.
I glance over, warmth spreading through me. She raises her chin and continues.
“I can’t stay. I need to get back to New York.” Her voice is clipped and in control.
The warmth in my veins turns icy.
Tori wants to leave.
The thought hits me harder than a bodycheck.
“We can get the COO, Mangus, to step into the role, manage the hedge fund while you’re gone. You can call the shots from here, continue working remotely.”
She manages a hedge fund and her dad’s acting likeshe’s the lead barista at Starbucks. Easily replaced by this Mangus dude.
Her jaw ticks, dark eyes flashing. “Mangus can’t handle the investors like I do, and you know it.”
Prince takes off his readers, tossing them onto the desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. Like he’s staving off a tension headache that’s gotBennett Steelewritten all over it.
“Mr. Prince—” I clear my throat, trying to maintain control. “I’m a grown man, a professional hockey player. I don’t need twenty-four-seven supervision.”
Elbows on the desk, he screws his eyes shut tighter and mutters under his breath. Something that sounds a lot likeBennett Motherfucking SteeleandRocky Plays Hockey.
After a long minute, Prince opens his eyes and squints at both of us.
“Listen. The league may have cleared you, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re still on probation. The same terms apply. One slip-up, Steele, and you’re benched.”
Nice fucking guy.
My fists ball, knuckles turning white, and I’m glad my hands are blocked from view. Grinding my molars, I give Prince a tight nod.
Nothing good comes from arguing with the owner.
And selfishly, I don’t want Tori to leave.
But I’m never admitting that.
CHAPTER 15
TORI
Istorm out of my father’s office, furious. Almost running down the hallway, I race toward the elevators, the click-click of my heels echoing off the walls.
This entire situation is beyond ridiculous.
I have an MBA. I run a multi-million dollar hedge fund. Own a penthouse apartment in the city overlooking Park Avenue.
Yet here I am.
Thirty years of doing things his way.
After my mother died, I promised myself I’d break free.
Still waiting on that.
I shouldn’t be reduced to a pro hockey player handler.
Especially one like Bennett Steele.
