11. Tania
Tania
The luxury box overlooks center ice, with glass walls that give us a perfect view while keeping out the worst of the noise.
I invited Renata to come with me, but she had to work. It would have been fun to have her here, because I definitely need some girl energy.
But how can I complain? I’m spending time with the triplets I’ve had a crush on for the majority of my life.
Callum’s on his feet every time the home team gets close to scoring. Evan slouches back, beer in hand, grinning at Callum’s energy. Silas sits beside me, one arm draped along the back of the couch, ignoring his phone for once.
My phone buzzes. And it’s a text from my boss at the museum asking about delivery details for a Baroque piece being delivered on Monday.
I could text back, but a thirty-second call will solve the problem faster.
I stand. “Work call. I’ll be right back.”
Silas stops what he’s doing. “Everything okay?”
“Delivery question. Super quick.”
I slip out into the hallway and dial my boss.
“Hey, it’s Tania. You need the delivery details?”
“Yes! Thank you. I’ve been searching everywhere.”
I pull up an email and read her the details she needs.
“Perfect.” She sighs in relief. “Thanks so much. Sorry to interrupt your night.”
“No problem.”
I end the call and pocket my phone.
A man steps into my path. He’s probably in his mid-thirties, and his red face screams he’s had too much to drink.
“You’re her.” He’s grinning. “The Locke wife.”
I don’t respond.
“Saw you online.” He drags his stare down my body. “You must be something special to need three guys.”
He doesn’t even deserve a response. I move to step around him.
He sidesteps. Blocks me. “What is it? Are you that insatiable? Need multiple men to keep you satisfied?”
I don’t engage, and I move out of his way again, focusing on getting back to the safety of the box.
“I could help with that.” He’s closer now, smelling like whiskey and cologne thick enough to choke on. “Get in on the rotation. I bet I could please you better than all three of them combined.”
I keep walking.
His hand clamps around my wrist. It’s too tight. Pain shoots up my arm.
I spin. “Let go.”
“Come on.” He’s grinning like this is funny. “Don’t be like that. You’re clearly into sharing. What’s one more?”
I yank my arm, but he doesn’t release me. His other hand reaches for my waist, and I drive my knee up, hitting him in the balls.
He doubles over, gasping. His grip loosens, and I rip my wrist free and run. The box door is ten feet away. Five. My palm hits the handle, and I’m inside, breathing hard.
Callum’s on his feet. “Red, did you see that shot? I told you this goalie—” He stops and reads my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He crosses to me and reaches for my hand. I let him take it because refusing would only make it worse. His fingers brush my wrist, and I flinch.
He freezes and lifts my arm, examining the red marks already darkening. He sees them—fingerprints, clear as day.
His breathing changes. Faster. Shallower. Like he’s deciding whether to break something. “Who did this to you?”
“It’s nothing.”
Evan is beside us now, and Silas is standing, noticing that something is wrong.
“It’s not nothing.” Callum’s grip on my hand stays gentle, but his shoulders are coiled tight. “Who touched you?”
“Some guy in the hallway.” I pull my hand back. “I handled it.”
Silas crosses his arms. “Handled it how?”
“Kicked him in the balls and left.”
Callum’s mouth twitches. “Good girl.”
But fury still radiates off him—off all of them.
“What happened?” Evan’s watching me carefully.
I hesitate.
“Tania.” Silas moves closer. “What happened?”
“Some guy recognized me, and then he made a comment about needing multiple men.” I cross my arms. “He grabbed me. So, I kicked him and came back.”
Callum heads for the door.
Silas catches his arm. “I’m getting the security footage first.”
He’s pulling up his phone, typing fast. Thirty seconds later, it rings.
“This is Silas Locke. Box twelve. I need security footage from the hallway outside our box. Last five minutes.” Pause. “Assault. My wife was grabbed by another guest.” Another pause. “I’ll wait.”
He puts the call on speaker, and I hear keyboard clicks and a muffled background conversation.
“Mr. Locke, we have the footage. The individual has been identified. We’re detaining him now.”
Silas lifts his chin. “I want him arrested for assault.”
“Understood, sir. We’ll handle it.”
“We’re coming down.” Silas ends the call.
Callum’s at the door, and Evan follows.
I hesitate. “You don’t need to—”
“We’re going.” Silas’s eyes find mine. “You can stay here or come with us. Your choice.”
I follow them because staying alone feels worse.
The service elevator takes us down to the security level. There are long concrete hallways, fluorescent lights, and the muffled roar of the crowd bleeding through the walls.
Silas walks fast. Callum and Evan flank me, neither touching but close enough that I feel surrounded. Protected.
Silas gets a text and reads it. “Security has him in a back office.”
Two uniformed guards stand outside the door. Inside, the guy from the hallway sits in a metal chair, hands cuffed in front of him.
Silas speaks directly to the head of security, who is waiting in the hall.
I don’t hear what he says, but I hear the security guard’s response. “Police are on their way. Should be here in five minutes.”
“Good.”
The guy sees me through the open door and tries to stand. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Callum rushes through the door before the security guard can react. His fist connects with the guy’s face—one clean hit that snaps his head back.
“Mr. Locke!” The guard lunges forward.
Evan is inside now, landing a second punch to the guy’s ribs before security pulls them both back.
“Enough!” The head of security wedges himself between them and the guy, who’s slumped in the chair, blood dripping from his nose. “Listen, I understand you’re upset, but—”
“He assaulted my wife.” Callum shakes off the guard’s grip but doesn’t advance. “You’re lucky I stopped.”
The head of security’s attention shifts to Silas.
Silas pulls out a business card. “I want a copy of the police report when it’s filed.”
The guard takes the card. “Of course, Mr. Locke.”
We leave before the police arrive. The walk back to the elevator is silent, and back in the box, the game is in the third period, but none of us are watching it.
I sink onto the couch. Callum sits beside me, too close, one arm draped behind my shoulders. Evan takes my other side. Silas stands near the glass, staring at the ice.
When the final buzzer sounds, we head to the car. When we are settled inside, Callum’s hand finds mine in the backseat, and he doesn’t let go.
Inside the penthouse, I don’t know what to expect. They are all so tense, and I want to put the whole incident behind me.
Callum stops when we all reach the living room and faces me. “I don’t want you alone tonight.”
He’s still feeling protective.
“We’re home. I’m safe.”
“I know you are.” His eyes lock on mine. “But I still don’t want you alone.”
Evan steps closer. “Neither do I.”
They’re offering comfort. Presence. Nothing more. But I don’t want comfort. I want to forget the feel of that man’s hand on my wrist. I want to replace it with something I choose. Something I control.
I want them. “Then stay with me.”
Callum nods. “That was my plan, Red.”
But they are not comprehending what I am implying. “Both of you. In my bed.”
Evan goes still. “Are you sure that’s what you want right now?”
“Yes.”
Callum hasn’t moved. “After what just happened?”
“Especially after what just happened.” I close the distance between us. “I didn’t choose that. I’m choosing this.”
He searches my face, making sure I mean it.
I reach for his hand. “I’m sure.”
Evan hasn’t taken his eyes off me. “What about Silas?”
I turn. Silas stands near the hallway, arms crossed.
“I want you there, too.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
Evan turns his attention to Silas. “You heard her. She’s choosing this. She’s choosing you.”
“I’m done lecturing them.” He points at Callum and Evan. “They’re adults. They can make their own decisions.”
“And you don’t want me?” I immediately regret my words, knowing I am setting myself up for rejection.
“I didn’t say that.” His face doesn’t change. “But I’m not the one who’s going to fuck this up. I’m not risking Ben. I’m not risking the company when this blows up in our faces.”
When this blows up.
Not if. When.
He really doesn’t believe there is a chance for our fake relationship to become something more.
Silas heads toward his office. “Have fun.”
He’s gone before I can respond. I stand there, staring at the empty hallway.
Evan touches my shoulder. “Hey.”
I face him.
“Don’t let him ruin this.” His mouth curves. “He’s an idiot, but that doesn’t mean we have to be.”
Callum tugs me closer. “He’ll come around, eventually.”
“Maybe he won’t.”
“He’ll regret it.” Callum’s grin returns. “But right now? We’re not thinking about Silas.”
“No?”
“No.” He bends close, with his mouth at my ear. “We’re thinking about you.”
My skin goes hot.
Evan’s hand slides to my waist. “Upstairs?”
I agree. They lead me toward the stairs, and I don’t look back.
Silas made his choice. Now I’m making mine.