Chapter 68
sixty-eight
Elijah
The noise of the arena doesn’t fade when we step away from the ice.
It follows.
It seeps into everything, the corridors, the private levels, the quiet spaces that are supposed to be separate from the chaos below. It lingers in the air like static, like something still waiting to break open again.
I feel it in my body.
Not tension.
Readiness.
My hand stays at the back of her neck as we move through the private suite, my fingers resting just under her hairline, my thumb brushing slow, grounding strokes against her skin. I don’t think about it. I don’t question it.
I just… don’t let go.
She’s different tonight.
I noticed it the moment she stepped onto the ice.
Not just the way she looked.
The way she held herself.
There was a moment, just before Jackson kissed her, where I expected to see it. That flicker. That hesitation. That instinct to pull back under the weight of being watched.
It didn’t come.
She felt it.
I know she did. But she stayed calm and lifted her chin. Stood there like she belonged in the middle of it.
My jaw tightens slightly at the memory. Because she does belong there, and I’ll break anyone who tries to make her feel otherwise.
The screen in front of us flickers as the post-game interview begins, pulling my attention forward again.
Jackson fills the frame.
Controlled.
Measured.
Holding himself in a way that isn’t natural to him, but he’s doing it anyway because he knows what this moment is.
“a lot of attention tonight surrounding your relationship,” the reporter is saying. “Can you clarify what exactly is going on?”
I feel Lia shift slightly under my hand.
Jackson doesn’t hesitate.
“We’re in a committed relationship.”
Straight. Clean.
The reporter presses.
“So Liana Waverly is with all three of you?”
“Yes.”
The answer lands. Final. Unapologetic.
I feel something settle in my chest at that. He’s not backing down.
Good.
“And the speculation that this is a publicity stunt, given Ms. Waverly’s career...”
My grip tightens slightly at the back of her neck.
Jackson’s expression shifts just enough that I catch it.
“That’s not what this is,” he says, his voice harder now. “This is my private life.”
“And the incident at the gala, are those events connected?”
There it is. The angle. The attempt to pull everything into one narrative.
I feel Lia go still.
Jackson doesn’t rise, doesn’t snap, doesn’t give them anything.
“I’m not commenting on the gala,” he says flatly. “Speak to the authorities. We were in attendance. That’s it.”
A beat.
“I’m here to talk about hockey. Hockey is hockey. My private life is my private life.”
And just like that, he shuts it down.
My gaze lingers on the screen for a second longer before dropping to her.
She’s steady.
Still processing.
Still holding herself together in a way that tells me she’s feeling everything and not letting it take her under.
My thumb brushes once over her skin.
“You’re doing well,” I murmur.
She exhales softly.
“I don’t feel like I am.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I reply quietly. “You are.”
I don’t give her time to argue it. I don’t need to. Because I can feel it. And that’s enough.
“Come on,” I say after a moment, my hand sliding from her neck to her waist. “We’re leaving.”
Lucian walks just behind us, his presence unobtrusive but absolute. I don’t need to look to know where he is.
We’re halfway down the corridor when a man steps out from one of the side access points.
Not security.
Not staff.
Someone who shouldn’t be here. He clocks her immediately.
“So it’s true then,” he says, his voice carrying just enough edge to make it clear this isn’t curiosity. “You really are just… passing her around like that?”
Lia goes still.
I don’t stop walking. I don’t warn him. I don’t say a word. I just step forward, and hit him.
My fist connects with his jaw hard enough that his head snaps sideways, his body slamming back into the wall before he can even react. The sound of impact cracks through the corridor, sharp and final.
He barely has time to register what happened before I’m on him.
My hand fists in the front of his shirt, dragging him forward off the wall, my other hand closing around his throat, not squeezing, just holding him there, pinned, suspended.
“Say it again,” I tell him quietly.
His eyes are wide now. Panicked.
“I— I didn’t—”
My grip tightens. Not enough to cut off air. Enough to hurt. Enough to make the point.
“You don’t speak about my wife,” I say, my voice low and even, every word placed exactly where I want it. “You don’t think about her. You don’t look at her. You don’t exist in the same space as her unless I allow it.”
His hands come up, grabbing at my wrist.
Pointless.
“Do you understand me?”
He nods frantically.
“Yes...yes!”
I hold him there for a second longer. Long enough for him to feel exactly how close he is to not walking away from this.
Then I let him go.
He drops back against the wall, gasping, scrambling to get his footing.
“Get out,” I tell him.
He doesn’t hesitate.
He runs.
I don’t watch him leave.
I turn back to her.
My hand comes up to her face this time, cupping her jaw, my thumb brushing once over her cheek.
“You okay?” I ask.
Her eyes search mine for a moment, then she nods.
“I’m okay.”
I hold her gaze for a second longer, then lean in, pressing a slow, firm kiss to her mouth.
When I pull back, my hand slides back to her waist.
“Let’s go home.”
The apartment is quiet when we get back.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that feels earned.
I don’t take my hand off her until we’re fully inside, the door shut behind us, the outside world finally cut off.
Only then do I let her go.
“Sit,” I tell her, my voice softer now, but still firm.
She watches me for a second. Then does it.
I move through the space without thinking, checking doors, windows, everything out of habit before I finally settle again, leaning back against the counter.
Waiting.
We don’t talk much.
We don’t need to.
The energy in the room is still too full. Still too close to the surface. It’s not long before the door opens again.
Jackson first.
Then Zach.
Both of them carrying the same residual adrenaline I can still feel in my own body.
Jackson’s gaze goes straight to her.
“Hey,” he says, softer now. “You okay?”
She nods.
“I’m okay.”
Zach moves in closer, his hand brushing her shoulder briefly, grounding.
“Good,” he murmurs.
I watch it, the way they move around her, the way everything between us has settled into something that doesn’t need to be questioned anymore.
This is it.
This is what we built.
“I need to go out for a bit,” I say.
Three sets of eyes turn to me.
“Christian,” I add simply.
They understand immediately.
Jackson nods once.
“Yeah. Go.”
Zach gives me a steady look.
“We’ve got her.”
I know. That’s the point.
My gaze shifts back to her. She’s watching me. Not asking me to stay, not pulling, just… there. Trusting.
“I’ll be back,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says softly before I grab my keys and head out.
The Beaumont feels different now.
Not unfamiliar.
Just… mine in a way it wasn’t before.
Christian is waiting when I walk into his office. He looks up, taking me in properly, noting everything without saying it out loud.
He gestures to the desk.
“I’ve put everything in place,” he says. “Contacts, structure, operations. You take over here.”
I step closer, looking over it.
It’s clean.
Efficient.
Exactly what I expected from him.
“You’re leaving,” I say.
He leans back slightly.
“New York needs me,” he replies. “Lucian’s already moving things. I’ll finish what’s left here, then I go.”
I study him.
“You planning on climbing higher?”
A faint smile.
“Possibly.”
Of course.
When he decides to do something it happens and I always knew his ambitions were never to be on the bottom.
“Stay a few days,” I say. “We’re doing something. Private.”
He considers it for a second. Then nods.
“I’ll stay.”
Good. Silence settles.
“Thank you,” I say.
He waves it off.
“It’s business.”
It’s not. But I let it go.
“Next time you walk in here, it will be yours.” he tells me. “Go home. Your wife’s waiting.”
The word lands differently now as I study him, my brother who has always had my back, always let me be who I wanted to be and made sure I could marry the woman I loved.
I clasp his shoulder once and see the understanding there as I turn and head home to my family.