“Good,” he said simply.
I nodded, too drained to speak.
“Attwood. Nova is…special. With me, she will want for nothing.”
Special. Fucking hell. There was an uncomfortable lump in my throat, and a sick feeling of guilt was worming its way through my stomach. How had I let myself get so carried away with her? Did Volkov actually have feelings for her?
“Treat her well,” I said roughly, and then skated awayfrom him, flying down the rink without even seeing where I was going, my vision blurring.
I collided with a wall, hard and fast.
“Whoa. What the fuck?”
No, it was a body.
“Shit. Sorry.” Reeling back, winded, I attempted to get my bearings. Pulling myself upright, I twisted away from him, rubbing my glove over my face as I tried to compose myself. The last thing Lincoln Bellingham needed was to see my moment of weakness.
“Here.” A bottle of water appeared in my field of vision. “You look like you could use this.”
I took the bottle, tipping it to my lips before handing it back to Bellingham. “Thanks,” I mumbled, wiping at my mouth.
“You’re welcome.” He kept his gaze averted, and the way he was being weirdly polite clued me in to the fact that he definitely knew something was up with me.
Sucking in a shaky breath, I glanced back at where Volkov was leaving the ice. There was no way I wanted to be alone in the locker room with him, and it was desperation that made me turn back to Bellingham. “Want to do some speed drills?”
“Consorting with the enemy?” he drawled, one brow rising. When I opened my mouth to tell him to forget it, he shook his head. “I suppose I haven’t got anything better to do. Give me two minutes.”
Skating over to Enzo, he spoke to him in a low tone. Enzo shrugged and then clapped him on the shoulder.
When Bellingham returned to me, I cleared my throat. “Uh. Don’t let Dan hear about this.”
He shot me a sly grin. “That’s not gonna happen. Wehave witnesses. He’ll find out, and he’s gonna be so pissed off. Don’t worry, I’ll take all the blame.”
“I’m regretting this already,” I muttered, and his grin disappeared. When he spoke again, there was nothing but sincerity in his voice.
“I know what it’s like when you need to silence the noise. C’mon. Let’s do this.”
15
NOVA
“Happy birthday.” My mother smiled at me and then Ryker. As usual, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Your father had some business to take care of this morning.” Glancing around the quiet dining room of Nottswood Country Club, she lowered her voice, even though there was no chance of being overheard at our private table. “There’s been a little hiccup with the supply line, and he had to go to the port to sort things out. You know how it is.”
Ryker rolled his eyes, and my mother caught it, her mouth thinning.
“You’ll be the one to sort out the problems when you’re the head of the syndicate. You should be taking an interest.”
His hard gaze whipped to hers. “Don’t worry, Mother. I know exactly what’s expected of me.”
She deflated, waving her hand at the table. “Good. Now, shall we begin with a champagne toast while we’re waiting?”
Unsurprisingly, my father didn’t make an appearance. It was optimistic of my mother to even assume he’d be there at all—business came first, and any problems had to be takencare of immediately before they got out of control. Eventually, even my mother grew tired of waiting, and we were able to order food. I picked at my brunch, slicing my eggs into tiny pieces. Opposite me, Ryker hadn’t even bothered to pretend he had an appetite, ignoring his plate and immersing himself in whatever was on his phone screen. My mother was undeterred, going through yet another rundown of the day’s itinerary in between forkfuls of eggs Benedict.
“—the mayor’s son?—”
“What?” Ryder’s head shot up, cutting off my mother mid-flow. She blinked but recovered quickly.
“I was saying that unfortunately, the mayor will be in attendance tonight. It… Well, you know. Politics.” She laughed lightly. “The invitation was extended to his son?—”
