Chapter Five
LUKE
When Mila’s hand found mine at the academy entrance, conversation didn’t stop—it recalibrated. Blackwood had perfected silent observation. Money trained into posture. Curiosity disguised as indifference.
As we stepped through the double doors, eyes followed without being obvious about it. They saw. They understood.
We didn’t slow. Her fingers threaded through mine with deliberate pressure.
The hockey trophy case loomed to our right, glass polished to a mirror sheen. Our reflection caught there—her steady profile, my shoulders squared, hands linked in plain sight.
A public claiming. To Elise, a dare.
I felt Mila’s fingers tighten the second she clocked Elise ahead.
I followed her line of sight.
Elise saw us a beat later. Her gaze dropped to our hands. Something violent flickered across her face before she smoothed it away.
Good. I’d been waiting for this. Her games needed to end.
The hard part was holding back—letting Mila take the first swing. We’d agreed it was smarter that way. My turn would come.
Elise peeled away from the cluster near the lockers, timing it so we’d have to pass her. She waited until Mila drew even closer before speaking.
“By lunch”—her voice pitched low, surgical—“my father’s counsel files a felony complaint of corporate theft and conspiracy, naming Adriana Callahan.”
Mila didn’t flinch, but I knew it cost her to hold steady.
“You wanted to be seen together?” Elise continued. “Watch how quickly your mom disappears.”
The hallway air thinned. Mila turned her head slowly, meeting Elise’s gaze head-on. “Try it.”
Elise’s mouth curved, not amused. “Consider this your countdown.”
She leaned closer to Mila only, voice softer still. “You should’ve asked Luke what my father already uncovered before you pushed this. Check again. Make sure you’re not the one causing damage you can’t undo.”
Elise’s eyes flicked toward me only once—calculating, not inviting—then she stepped back with measured strides that carried her down the corridor without haste.
Mila’s fingers twitched once. I gently squeezed her hand with mine before drawing her half a step closer, my shoulder brushing hers, thumb pressing slow and deliberate against the inside of her wrist where her pulse beat steady beneath my skin.
My family handled pressure with strategy and spin. Mila met it head-on and refused to blink.
I leaned closer, just enough that only she could hear. “I’m here. We knew she’d counter.”
“Yeah.” A breath left her slowly. “I just hope you’re right, and our next move unravels theirs.”
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at it as we walked.
Mom: Stay in class. Do not engage. I’m home today.
Edwardo wasn’t scheduled to move in until this afternoon. But what needed to be done to stop Charles Dunn should happen sooner. I scanned the corridor again. No unfamiliar faces. No campus security hovering where they shouldn’t be.
“She’s not at work,” Mila said quietly.
I’d already read the text over her shoulder, but I knew what her real concern was. “She won’t be alone long,” I replied.
We didn’t stop walking. I kept hold of her hand.
The rest of the day passed under scrutiny.
Jax clapped my shoulder between classes like I’d just won something. Theo said nothing, which meant he approved. Avery avoided my eyes at lunch—careful, measured—but she didn’t pull away from Mila. That was enough.
Elise didn’t make another move. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t.
Practice gave me something to focus on. It didn’t bring answers. I was still waiting on my PI, Marcus.
My phone vibrated with his call before I’d finished unlacing my skates. I answered immediately. “What did you find?”
There was a quiet clack of keys on the other end before he spoke.
“I started digging into Darren,” Marcus said, voice low and controlled. “Something’s off with his records.”
My hand stilled on the laces.
“I think he may have used another name.”
Cold pressed beneath my ribs. Something about the way he said it didn’t sit right. Not proof. Not yet. But enough to make me pay attention. “Keep digging.”
We ended the call.
I messaged Mila before I could overthink it. Marcus is still digging. Nothing solid yet.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Mila: Okay.
I stared at the screen a second longer than I should have, the unease still sitting heavy in my chest.
There was nothing I could act on yet. So I shelved it—for now.
I shoved my gear into my bag and stood.
“You coming?” Jax called from across the locker room. “I’m starving. If I don’t get a burger in the next ten minutes, I’m fighting someone.”
“That tracks,” Theo muttered.
Chase slung his bag over his shoulder. “Grill Shack?”
I grabbed my keys. “Yeah.”
The Grill Shack smelled of hamburger grease and fryer oil embedded into wood grain. Neon beer signs buzzed softly against the windows. It was loud. Familiar.
I dropped into the booth across from Jax and Theo while Chase crowded in at the end, fries already disappearing from his tray.
“You look murderous,” Jax observed, mouth half full.
“I’m calm.”
“Your calm is worse.” Jax grunted.
Theo leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. “Saw the entrance this morning.”
“And?”
“Felt right with you and Mila finally claiming each other in the open.”
It did. “We’re done sneaking around,” I admitted.
Chase nodded. “Everyone noticed.”
“Good.”
Jax wiped his hands on a napkin. “Elise too. Avery mentioned she looked like she was one breath away from committing murder.”
“She confronted Mila this morning,” I replied.
Three heads snapped toward me.
“And it took you this long to fill us in?” Theo asked.
“She’s not just mouthing off. She’s pushing Dunn to move. Said she’s done waiting.”
Jax stilled. “Meaning?”
“Meaning she ran back to her father, and whatever they’ve got planned is already in motion.”
Chase frowned. “You still leaning on that gym owner?”
“Yeah.” I took a sip of my drink. “Edwardo moved in last night.”
Theo’s brows lifted. “Into her place?”
“Into Mila and her mom’s place.”
Jax let out a slow breath. “That’s not subtle.”
“It’s not supposed to be,” I said. “It’s meant to send a message.”
Chase studied me for a second longer than the others. “You trust him?”
“I trust what he’s connected to.”
That quieted the table.
Across the street, movement caught my eye.
Through the Shack’s wide front windows, Elise stood beside her car. She wasn’t on her phone. She wasn’t pretending. She was watching us.
Theo followed my gaze. “She wants you to see her.”
“Yeah.”
Elise didn’t look angry. She looked steady. Composed. After a beat, she got into her car and eased out of the parking lot like this was just another stop on her schedule.
Jax leaned back. “That’s not intimidation.”
“No,” I said. “That’s positioning.”
My phone buzzed. My dad. I’d avoided him since the fundraiser, and I had no interest in walking into whatever version of disappointment he’d decided to rehearse. I hit decline.
A second vibration followed immediately from my brother.
Drew: Dad heard Dunn’s digging into Adriana. He thinks it’s going to splash back on you. He’s pissed.
Me: He wasn’t even there.
Drew: Doesn’t matter. Someone filled him in. He wants a conversation.
I stared at the screen for a second.
Me: I can handle him.
Drew: Not tonight. He’s wound tight. Let me run interference.
Me: How bad?
Drew: Bad enough that you should make yourself scarce. I’ll hold him off as long as I can.
Me: Fine. Keep me posted.
Drew: Will do.
I set the phone face down on the table.
Jax gestured to the fries. “Can we forget the bullshit around us for five minutes and go back to being hockey gods?”
Chase smirked. “You mean like we’ll be when we face Crestview?”
I laughed. “Every fucking time. I can’t wait to wipe the floor with Mason.” He was their star player, their hammer—the guy who’d throw an elbow behind the play then flash a grin, pretending he hadn’t just rattled your molars.
We slipped into hockey like muscle memory—Crestview’s weak flank, Mason’s cheap shots, who needed to tighten up before playoffs.
Theo broke down matchups like he’d already watched game tape twice.
Chase argued about ice time, insisting nobody was riding the bench too long.
Jax promised he’d drop gloves if Crestview tried to get cute.
For a few minutes, it felt normal.
But the possible information from Marcus about Darren using another name sat heavy in my mind.
By the time I got home, the house was dim when I stepped inside, wind rattling faintly off the ocean. Voices carried from the sitting room.
“If you want the board’s confidence,” my mother’s voice cut through, “this is the moment to prove yourself.”
“He’s my brother,” Drew responded evenly.
“Then protect him from himself.”
I stepped into the doorway. Dad stood at the kitchen counter, sleeves rolled, tie loosened, his phone still in his hand. The screen lit briefly before it went dark—Lorne’s name still visible at the top of the call log. The TV flickered silently in the background. He didn’t look surprised to see me.
“Dunn called this afternoon,” he said instead of hello. “He claims he has documentation linking Adriana Callahan to internal investigation. He’s implying you’ve attached this family to something volatile.”
“It’s fabricated.”
“That’s irrelevant.” His gaze narrowed. “Perception is leverage.”
“Mila’s not a liability.”
“She’s a variable,” he corrected. “And variables cost money.”
Mom’s gaze shifted between us, cool and precise. “The timing of this attachment is disastrous.”
I held her stare. “It’s not timing. It’s intentional.”
Dad let out a slow breath, irritation cutting through it. “You couldn’t walk away even if everything depended on it.”
Silence hung between us. “Maybe I don’t want to.”
“There it is,” he muttered. “You’re willing to gamble your name, everything we’ve built—for a girl whose mother may be dragged through an investigation.”
The thought of how Mila’s fingers had trembled around that envelope gutted me. The idea of her standing alone made something reckless stir in my chest. My jaw locked. “Adriana’s not under investigation.”
“Yet.”
The word hung heavy.
Drew stepped forward slightly. “We can manage the optics. Issue a neutral statement—Luke’s focused on hockey, no comment on unrelated corporate matters. That buys us space.”
Dad glanced at him. “So now you’re crisis management.”
“I’m suggesting containment.”
Dad studied him for a long second. Then a thin, humorless smile touched his mouth.
“Fine,” he replied. “You want responsibility? You handle the board fallout. You deal with Lorne.” A flicker passed across Dad’s face—irritation, or something closer to caution.
“You reassure the investors that my youngest son hasn’t lost perspective of his future with King Enterprises. ”
There it was. Delegation with teeth.
Drew didn’t hesitate. “I’ll speak with them tomorrow.”
“You’d better,” Dad returned. “We don’t have room for mistakes.”
“Then maybe stop listening to the wrong people,” I shot back.
“Enough,” Mom cut in, voice clean and final.
Dad grimaced in the brittle silence that followed. “If Adriana Callahan gets pulled into something formal, our name won’t stay out of the headlines. Remember that.” He left the room without another word.
Drew met my gaze across the kitchen. “I’ve got it,” he assured quietly.
I hated that I wanted to believe him.
Upstairs, my window overlooked the dark stretch of ocean. Waves rolled steady against the beach, relentless and indifferent. I unlocked my phone before I could overthink it.
Me: You home?
Mila: Yeah. Just got in.
Me: Good.
A pause.
Mila: You okay?
Me: Always.
I wished I believed that.
I didn’t tell her what Dad implied about her mom. Didn’t tell her that Marcus thought Darren might have used another name.
I told myself I was protecting her. The truth pressed heavier. If Darren had been hiding something—if this went deeper than anyone at Blackwood wanted to admit—this stopped being about high school rumors and scholarship threats.
This became something else entirely. Something bigger. And I wasn’t ready for Mila to look at me and see exactly how deep that world ran.
Outside, the ocean kept moving. Inside, I was running out of room to protect her without pulling her under.