CHAPTER 5
TOO CLOSE
OLIVIA
By sunrise, Olivia’s apartment contained three hockey players, two independent security consultants, one furious younger brother, and enough coffee to revive the dead.
Daniel Brooks arrived carrying a cardboard tray and wearing sunglasses despite the snowstorm outside.
“I was told there was an emergency,” he said, stepping around a technician who was replacing the balcony sensor. “Then Anderson texted me an address without punctuation. I assumed someone had died.”
Luke followed him through the door with Ben’s backpack slung over one shoulder.
“No one died,” Luke said.
Daniel handed Olivia a coffee. “Yet. Morgan looks homicidal.”
Alex stood beside the windows speaking to Noah Parker on video call. He had changed into black training clothes, but the tape remained around his injured hand. Every few seconds his gaze returned to Olivia as if confirming she had not vanished since the last time he checked.
She refused to find that reassuring.
Mostly.
Ben dropped onto the sofa. “Can someone explain why Parker has her schedule?”
“That is what we are trying to determine,” Olivia said.
“No, you are trying to determine it. Alex is trying to wrap both of us in bubble wrap and store us underground.”
Alex ended the call. “The underground part has advantages.”
Ben stared at him. “That was a joke, right?”
No one answered.
Daniel removed his sunglasses. “I have known our captain for eight years and cannot reliably identify humor in the wild.”
Olivia hid a smile behind her coffee.
Alex noticed.
Of course he did.
Noah appeared on the tablet propped against the kitchen island. His dark hair was still wet from a shower, and his expression carried the quiet concentration he brought to the crease.
“The building-camera archive was accessed through an external maintenance account,” he said. “Credential belongs to Halcyon Systems.”
“The company that installed the arena network?” Olivia asked.
“And this building’s security.”
She looked toward Alex. “My father recommended the building.”
His face remained unreadable. “Convenient.”
“The account was retired four years ago,” Noah continued. “Someone reactivated it last month. Same account touched the arena camera system during the gala.”
Ben leaned forward. “Can you trace it?”
“Working on it.”
Daniel pointed at the screen. “When did you become a cybercriminal?”
“I am not.”
“That sounded exactly like something a cybercriminal would say.”
Noah disconnected without responding.
Luke took the coffee Daniel had brought for him and drank in silence.
Olivia watched the four players settle into roles without discussion.
Daniel filled the room with noise so everyone else could breathe.
Luke observed exits and collected practical details.
Noah worked from a distance, gathering information none of them could reach.
Alex stood at the center, taking responsibility for all of it whether anyone wanted him to or not.
The Titans called them a leadership group.
They looked more like a family built out of bruises.
Adam Wilson arrived fifteen minutes later, apologized for being late, and announced that he had followed a suspicious sedan for six blocks before discovering it belonged to a kindergarten teacher.
“Did the teacher notice?” Olivia asked.
“Eventually.”
Alex closed his eyes.
“She threatened to call the police,” Adam added. “I gave her tickets.”
“Leave,” Alex said.
“I just got here.”
“Exactly.”
Coach Davis called before Adam could defend himself. Practice had been moved to noon, closed to media. Alex needed to attend or the league would interpret his absence as an admission that the Reapers fight had caused an injury.
“I am not leaving her,” he said.
“I did not ask whether you wanted to,” Coach Davis replied through the speaker. “And Ms. Carter has survived twenty-five years without your supervision.”
“Barely,” Ben muttered.
Olivia threw a cushion at him.
Coach Davis continued. “Brooks and Wilson, get to the arena. Anderson stays with Ben. Ms. Carter, your father has called me four times. I would prefer not to answer a fifth.”
“He can develop patience.”
“He owns a hockey team. Patience was removed during due diligence.”
The call ended.
Alex looked at Olivia. “Come to practice.”
It was phrased as an invitation. Only the tension in his shoulders revealed what it cost.
“I have work.”
“Work at the arena.”
“My laptop is here.”
“Bring it.”
She took a slow sip of coffee. “What is the immediate threat?”
His jaw tightened.
They both remembered the terms.
“The schedule proves someone knows your movements,” he said. “The apartment system is compromised. The arena is not secure, but it has controlled zones and people I trust.”
“People you trust are not automatically people I trust.”
“No.” He glanced at Luke and Ben. “But you can choose who stays near you.”
A better answer than she expected.
“I will go,” she said. “Not because you ordered me.”
“I asked.”
“With the emotional tone of a hostage negotiation.”
Daniel clapped once. “This is healthier than last season’s team therapy.”
Alex pointed toward the door.
Daniel left, still smiling.
At Titan Crown, Olivia worked from a glass-walled conference room overlooking the practice rink.
Ben sat across from her with his injured hand bandaged, searching old foundation records through a temporary account.
Luke remained outside the room, reading on his phone and somehow intimidating everyone who passed.
On the ice, Alex ran drills with controlled ferocity.
Coach Davis divided the team into units. Alex took faceoffs against Daniel, correcting the angle of Daniel’s lower hand between attempts. Adam missed a defensive assignment and received a lecture so sharp he stopped smiling. Noah tracked shots through traffic, his movements economical and precise.
Olivia tried not to watch Alex.
She failed often enough that Ben noticed.
“You know the glass reflects your screen,” he said.
She looked at him. “What?”
“You keep pretending to read the same paragraph whenever Alex skates past.”
“I am monitoring team dynamics.”
“Sure.”
“Do you want help with the foundation search?”
“I want you to admit my brother is not as terrible as you pretend.”
“That is not a sentence I will be saying.”
Ben smiled. The resemblance to Alex appeared unexpectedly around the eyes, though Ben’s expression was warmer and less guarded.
“He was worse before you left,” Ben said.
Olivia’s fingers stilled above the keyboard. “That is difficult to imagine.”
“He hated himself after that hearing.”
“He had an unusual way of expressing it.”
“I did not say he handled it well.” Ben turned serious. “Alex learned early that if he makes people leave first, they cannot become leverage.”
“Is that an excuse?”
“No. I am tired of his excuses.” He looked toward the rink. “But it is the reason.”
Olivia watched Alex demonstrate a play at the board. Players listened when he spoke. Not because of the captain’s letter stitched to his practice jersey. Because he understood how each of them moved and adjusted the system to make them better.
“He has spent his entire life protecting me,” Ben said. “Sometimes I hate him for it. Then I remember what he protected me from.”
Olivia looked back at her screen. “What happened to your father?”
Ben’s mouth flattened. “He died four years ago. Cirrhosis.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t.”
The answer carried a history too heavy to ask about casually.
A search result appeared on Olivia’s screen.
Evan Hale. Age seventeen. Enrolled in the Titans development camp seven years earlier. Emergency cardiac evaluation after an on-ice collapse. Scholarship terminated six weeks later.
The attached physician’s report was missing.
Ben leaned closer. “There is a payment record.”
The foundation had transferred two hundred thousand dollars to a legal trust controlled by Evan’s mother.
Authorization: Robert Carter.
Purpose: confidential family support.
“Settlement,” Olivia said.
“Or silence.”
A second transfer appeared eighteen months later. This one had gone to RP Consulting.
Richard Parker.
Amount: five hundred thousand dollars.
No purpose listed.
Olivia downloaded both records.
The conference-room door opened.
Alex entered, helmet in one hand, sweat darkening the collar of his practice jersey. His cheeks were flushed from the ice. A bruise had begun forming along his jaw from the previous night’s fight.
Olivia’s body reacted before she could redirect it.
Alex saw.
His gaze moved slowly over her face, and the room suddenly felt too warm.
Ben made a disgusted sound. “I am still here.”
Neither of them had said anything.
“That is the problem,” Alex replied.
Ben stood. “I’m getting food.”
“Luke goes with you.”
“I know.”
The resignation in Ben’s voice made Alex flinch.
When the door closed, Alex placed his helmet on the table. “Find anything?”
Olivia showed him the transfers.
He read in silence. “Parker received more than Evan’s family.”
“Which suggests the money was not compensation. It was a deal.”
“Robert bought something.”
“Or paid Parker to bury something.”
Alex looked through the glass toward Coach Davis. “The report from the brick said Evan was cleared for contact.”
“Yet he had a cardiac evaluation after collapsing.”
“He collapsed before the photograph Parker sent Ben.”
Olivia understood. “The image of you near him was taken after an earlier incident.”
“Maybe.”
“You still do not remember?”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Development camps blur together. I was eighteen, fighting for a contract. Evan was younger. Small. Fast.”
The distant look in his eyes told her memory was returning in fragments.
“What happened on the ice?”
“I checked him during a scrimmage. Clean hit. He got up.”
“And later?”
“He came to the locker room asking for painkillers. Said his chest felt tight.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“I told an assistant trainer.”
“Who?”
Alex’s focus sharpened. “Gerard Mills.”
The man in the tunnel.
Olivia stood so quickly the chair rolled backward.
“Gerard was a trainer?”
“Before security. He lost his certification after a prescription investigation.”