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Chapter One Aria's POV “I don’t want to marry you.” Those were the exact words that left my fiancé’s mouth two weeks ago. The same man I’ve known for five years, dated for two years and has been engaged to for three of those five years. Our wedding was just three months away. Everything was going according to plan. Owen has been a big part of my life these past five years. We met in junior year of college. He was the popular hockey player, and I was the quiet girl. We were worlds apart. His confidence was like a drug, his words smooth like butter. After our second date, he asked me to be his girlfriend and I agreed. A couple years later, I’m engaged to him and we are planning a wedding. Our relationship was sweet the first couple of years, but something shifted after he proposed. It was almost like he regretted the decision. We were fresh out of college and he just got signed to the Florida Panthers, with the huge money that came with his contract, he bought a ring. As romantic as all these might look, it was anything but. A few months after the proposal, he got so busy with games and his rookie fame that our marriage was the last thing on the itinerary. We decided. Well, he decided we should wait a year before getting married. A year turned to two, two turned to three. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally picked a date. With the distance between us after he moved to Florida and I stayed in Toronto, our chemistry waned. I thought everything was going to get better after we got married and I moved in with him, but he had different plans. After a game with the Toronto maples–where they lost–we decided to have dinner together in my apartment. I made his favorite food, dressed in something he liked. Anything to please him. Whenever he loses a game, I always tread on thin ice with him. He tends to redirect his anger at me. As soon as he walked in, shoulders tense, face stoic, I braced myself. As we ate, I chatted away about wedding plans he missed out on. He remained quiet as I asked for his input on our wedding. I didn’t mind the silence but I never expected the words that came out of his mouth mid dinner. A dinner I couldn’t even enjoy. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I blinked rapidly. Knowing I must have heard him wrong. “We can’t get married, Aria.” He said, barely looking at me. “What do you mean we can’t get married.” “Do we have to postpone the wedding again? It’s fine. I know how busy you are with the new season just starting. I will just tell Imani to cancel the venue.” I rambled. The truth is it’s not fine, we can’t postpone our wedding for the fourth time. This is becoming embarrassing, but I can’t get married alone. “No, Aria. We can’t get married again. Not now, not never.” His words were like a dagger to my heart. “Babe, what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” I asked, I just can’t believe this. Maybe I’ve been too pushy with the wedding preparations. “I don’t love you anymore. I’ve felt this way for a while now but I didn’t want to break your heart.” He paused, swallowing. “I thought we could make this work but it’s just so difficult to love you.” With a final twist of the dagger, he pulls it out. My brain has stopped working. It didn’t register to me when he stood up. “I’m so sorry Aria. I’m really sorry. I hope you find happiness too.” He bends to kiss my head before he leaves. The sound of the door wakes me right up. I ran after him. I caught up to him in the hallway, right before he could enter the elevator. “Owen, please wait. We can talk about this. I don’t know what I did but I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave like this.” I held onto his arm, tears running down my cheeks. “Aria, don’t be like this. I don’t want to do this with you anymore.” “We’ve been together five years Owen, it’s three months to our wedding, you can’t do this to me.” I pleaded with him. “Let go of me. Get it through your head. We’re done.” He snapped. Just in time, the elevator dings and he pushes me off him. I land on my wrist and a sharp pain shoots up my arm. I cried out but he didn’t even care. The elevator door closes. My heart shattered into a million pieces as he walked away from me, from our love and everything we’ve built together. I realized right there, all the compromises I’ve made. All the insults I’ve taken from him, I realized too late. His love for me faded a long time ago and I clung on to him for five years. His right, I must have been a pain. He must have been so tired of me. I think of all the promises we made together, all the things we planned. A large house, three children. We even chose their names. My parents were right, nobody will ever love me. I thought Owen would be an exception but he also left. The tears kept flowing. I just couldn’t stop it. I woke up on that hallway floor hours later, my body stiff, my wrist swollen, my heart hollowed out beyond repair. The apartment felt too big, too quiet, like it had already decided I no longer belonged there. I dragged myself inside, locked the door, and spent the next two weeks moving through life like a ghost, canceling vendors, ignoring calls. Then one random afternoon, while scrolling on my phone, a notification flashed across my screen. 'Florida Panthers’ star Owen Evans engaged to supermodel Talia Weel.' Chapter Two Aria's POV Grief didn’t arrive all at once. It trickled in quietly, disguised as exhaustion, then stayed long enough to rot. Weeks blurred together in a cycle of half-empty bottles, unopened curtains, and a phone I refused to answer. I slept at odd hours and stayed awake long enough to replay everything I had done wrong. Every compromise. Every apology I never should have made. Every moment I convinced myself love meant shrinking. Two weeks. That was all it took for him to move one. I laughed in my head at the ridiculous thought. He didn’t just move on, he did that years ago while I clung hopelessly to a love that didn’t choose me. I tried not to picture her, and I failed miserably. Her image haunted me anyway. Her long legs. Her effortless beauty. The kind of woman who didn’t need to beg for attention. The kind of woman men chose in a heartbeat. And then there was me. The knocking started as background noise, something distant and annoying, like a neighbor’s alarm. I heard the rustling of keys before the door burst open. “Aria! You better be dead.” Imani’s voice boomed through the apartment. I stood up begrudgingly, stepping out of my room sheepishly. “Hi.” “Hi? Hi! Don’t you dare ‘hi’ me. How could you? I called you two hundred and six times, Aria” “Two hundred and seven actually.” I corrected weakly. “Oh, you are so dead.” She charged at me and I screamed. Trust Imani to give you a well-deserved ass whooping. She had me on the floor in seconds, I couldn’t do anything but beg for my life. “I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I’m not breathing. I love you, please don’t kill me.” She let go of my neck before crashing beside me, panting loudly. I turned to look at her, and we burst out laughing at the same time. I don’t know the last time I’ve laughed this past few months. The laughter faded and couldn’t help but sob. She pulled me to her chest and hugged me. No words needed to be said. After my little sob session. I pried myself from her, even though I wanted to stay there forever. “You stink Aria. I know you like being a pig, but this is too much, even for you.” She covers her nose to emphasize her point. I laughed, “I don’t smell that bad,” I brought my shirt over my nose and sniffed. I grimaced instantly. I stink indeed. I couldn't even remember the last time I got in the shower. “I will be going into the bathroom now. Thank you for making me feel like a pig.” I bowed. “I didn’t have to do anything. You got that covered.” She burst out laughing and I couldn’t help but laugh with her. After a long shower, I felt reborn. Water therapy is of course the best therapy and it’s free. Ok, maybe not free. The Toronto water bill is criminal. My heart still aches but I know with my best friend beside me everything is going to be okay. I don some shorts and a sports bra before making my way to the living room. I find Imani making sandwiches in the kitchen. Imani makes the best sandwich, she could make a fortune from them. As I approached, she placed a plate on the kitchen island in front of me. I sit on one of the stools and dig in. “Hmm. You should really consider selling these.” I groaned in pleasure. She laughed. “You only complement me when I’m feeding you.” “Then you should feed me all the time.” “Shut up and eat. You look like a twig right now.” “I’m sure I won’t lose all this fat in four weeks.” I sobered up at the realization that my engagement ended four weeks ago and days later he was seen with a supermodel on his arm–a woman who looks the opposite of me. “I’m sorry this happened to you B. He was an asshole anyways.” “I just don’t understand. He finally picked a date but ends it 3 months to the wedding” “You don’t have to understand anything that piece of shit does. I just want you to know it’s not your fault, ok?” I remained quiet. As much as my ears heard her, my brain refused to process that. “I’ll be fine, Imani.” I tried to reassure her. “A couple of the guys from the team are going into town to celebrate their win,” she said, clearing our plates to the sink, “and you are coming with me.” I stared at her incredulously. “What… What do you mean? No, I’m not doing that.” “Yes, you are. You definitely need a little drop of testosterone since that dick left.” “No, I do not need anymore testosterone in my life. I just want to be alone.” “It's funny how you think you have a say in this.” --------- And that's how I found myself in a slinky black dress, heading into a high-profile nightclub. Everything about this screams “Bad idea’ but my best friend refuses to listen to any voice of reasoning. Imani is a big shot sports agent here in Toronto and the couple of guys she so casually mentioned are players for the maples, the panthers biggest rivals. I paused in front of the fancy black door, leading to the VIP area. “I don't know. I think this is a bad idea. I don’t want to intrude or anything.” She dismissed with one look before linking our arms together. “A hot girl in a sexy outfit intruding a testosterone party?” She laughed out loud like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard in her life. “Trust me you are very welcome.” One word to the big bouncer at the door, we were in. A whole new world. A world of sex, drugs and alcohol. As soon as we approached the small gathering of noticeably huge hockey players, most of which I recognized from years of watching countless games with my dad. “Imani!” Arnold, one of the defensemen called loudly. “What took you so long? We’ve missed you?” he said loudly, clearly drunk. Before he could get anything else out, four eyes turned to look at me, their mouths wide with shock. “Who is this gorgeous piece of heaven?” Arnold slurred out. “Holy shit. Am I dead? What the hell is an angel doing in a club?” Daniel, the left winger, called out dramatically before a hand hit him at the back of his head. “You idiots. Are you going to keep them standing?” Theodore, the goalie said, leading us towards the couch in the room. “I’m sorry on behalf of these idiots.” I looked up shyly to see Ilya, the right winger staring at me with so much intent. I looked down in haste, feeling shy all over again. “Guys this is Aria, she's here to have fun. So, you guys should tone it down.” Imani introduced me and I waved a little. “Trust me. I can help her have so much fun.” Daniel said before she got another slap and an eyeroll from Imani. “Where is Ace?" Imani asked, looking at Theodore. “He went out for a smo–” Before he could finish his sentence Ilya burst out. “I knew you looked so familiar.” My heart pounded in my chest. How could he possibly know me? “Holy shit! You are Owen Evans’ girl” All four eyes turned to face me. Chapter Three Aria's POV Imani froze beside me. She was clearly not expecting them to recognize me as I and Owen's relationship was never public. “Okay guys you're scaring my friend. And she and Owen are no longer together, so you can calm your tits.” she said. “I'm sorry, I need to use the restroom.” I said before standing up. Imani offered to come with me but I assured her that I was fine. I scurried out of the room, almost tripping on my way out. Owen had always insisted that we kept our relationship private as a way of protecting me but now that I think about it it was so he could do whatever he wanted without repercussions. I turned a corner which seemed to lead to the back of the building. Just as I turned, I crashed into something or someone judging by the arms that caught me. I slowly looked squinting to see the face in the dark. This was Ace Maddox, the center for the Maples, Owen’s biggest rival. I rushed to move out of his arms, which resulted in me tripping again and him catching me all over again, this time pulling me closer. Our face is now almost touching. My breath caught in my throat as I could see his face clearly now and God was he beautiful. “You know if you wanted me to hold you, you could have just said so,” his silky British voice drawled out. And that broke me out of the trance I was in. Much to his hockey acquired fame, he was also pretty famous for being a womanizing asshole. “No thank you. I would like it if you let me go.” I exhaled, suddenly breathless from the close proximity. "I’m not trying to hold you, trust me. But you keep jumping into my arms, what else am I supposed to do?" he countered, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. I pushed against his chest, finally managing to create a sliver of space between us. "I'm not jumping. I just... I was rushing." "Rushing where, darling?" His dark blue eyes, which were shockingly warm up close, flickered down my body and back up to meet mine. "The bathroom is back that way." He pointed vaguely behind me. My cheeks flushed hot. He had clearly overheard my hurried exit from the VIP room. "It's none of your business." I gritted out, taking a step back, bumping into the wall behind me. Great. He chuckled, a deep, easy sound that was far too appealing for who he is. He leaned an arm against the wall next to my head, trapping me subtly. "Look, I’m just trying to make sure you're okay. You look like you're about to puke." "I'm fine. I just..." The words caught in my throat. How do I explain to a hockey superstar, who is also my ex-fiancé's rival, that I've just been publicly identified as 'Owen Evans' girl' right after he dumped me? "You just what?" he prompted softly. "I needed some air," I finally settled. Ace nodded slowly, studying my face with an unnerving intensity. He didn't seem to believe me, but he also didn't press. He straightened up and finally released me from the confines of his very hot body–not that I noticed. "They get a little loud when they win,” he whispered, his tone apologetic. I took a deep, shaky breath, grateful for the physical distance. "Yeah, I noticed." He took a drag from the cigarette he held between two long fingers, the cherry glowing brightly in the dim light. "You with Imani?" "Yes. She’s my best friend." "Right." He took another puff, his gaze distant for a moment. "So, you’re… Aria." It wasn't a question, but a confirmation. He knew who I was. The knot in my stomach tightened. "And you're Elion Maddox," I replied, using his actual first name—Elion, not Ace—which seemed to catch him off guard for a split second. He tossed the cigarette butt onto the ground and crushed it with the heel of his expensive shoe. "Most people stick with Ace," he said and shrugged not knowing what to say. He gave me a slow, almost predatory smile. "So, Aria. Did you get the air you needed, or do you need a distraction?" "A distraction?" I echoed, confused. "I saw how those meatheads were looking at you. And I heard what that idiot Ilya said." His tone was casual, yet there was a hard edge beneath it. "I didn’t think you would want to go back there." "It's... fine. It's just a lot to process." "Right." He approached again, his presence overwhelming. His hand reached out, and for a terrifying moment, I thought he was going to touch my face. Instead, his fingers brushed against the curve of my neck, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. The brief contact sent a jolt through me. "I hate seeing a beautiful woman looking so lost." His voice was barely a whisper. "Tell you what. I need to get away from the celebration for a bit. There’s a quiet bar two blocks from here. How about we grab a real drink? You look like you need one." I stared at him, my mind racing. Go with Elion Maddox? The notorious playboy? The man who was practically hockey royalty and my ex-fiancé's biggest rival? The mere thought of it is reckless. It was stupid. It was exactly what Imani wanted me to do. It was the best way to prove to myself—and maybe to Owen—that I wasn't the timid, quiet girl he left behind. "I don't even know you," I whispered. He flashed that devastating smile again, the one that probably made women fall at his feet. "Then let's fix that." He extended his hand, his eyes challenging me. "Just one drink, Aria. What do you say?" My heart was pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I looked back towards the VIP door, picturing the faces of the Maples players and the inevitable return to the reality of my broken engagement. "Just one," I agreed, letting my hand settle into his. His skin was warm and rough, a stark contrast to my softness. He gave my hand a brief, firm squeeze before letting go and turning towards the opposite end of the hallway. "Lead the way, darling." Taking his hand felt like stepping off a cliff. It was a plunge into dangerous, unexplored territory and I don't know if it will be a new beginning or the end of me. Chapter Four Aria's POV It felt like an earthquake was splitting my head in half. I slowly sat up from the bed, groaning as my hard protested against the movement. I looked around to see it was still dark outside. I moved to lie down before I realized that I just saw the sky from my apartment window– my apartment which was sandwiched between two skyrise had a very compressed view of the streets and less of the sky. This window however looked like it came straight out of a movie. I looked around suddenly hyper aware of my surroundings. Is this a dream? Something–or rather someone moved in the bed beside. I closed my eyes as I wished it was Imani. I slowly turned my head to see a pair of dark blue eyes staring at me. And I screamed. “What the hell?” Ace groaned beside me seemingly unbothered by this. “My neighbors are going to think I'm murdering you up here or something.” I stared at him wide-eyed, questioning my whole existence. “Why am I here,” I said slowly, peering down to see that I was naked under the duvet, “naked?” “I don't know man. I can't remember much of last night.” “What do you mean you can't remember,” I yelled, instantly regretting my actions as the pounding in my head got worse. “We had a couple of drinks and we ended up in bed together as two consenting adults.” I shook my head slightly. “I don’t remember consenting to anything. I would never do this. I'm not that kind of girl.” I said, tears filling my eyes. “That’s not what you were saying last night.” he said standing up, butt naked. A memory flashed through my head as I stared at his muscular back. I pulled Ace close to me as we stumbled into his apartment. “Aria are you sure about this?” he groaned, his hands reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table. “I think you should try to drink more water.” “I know what I'm doing, Ace. Just shut up and kiss me.” I whined, pulling him closer. He held my gaze for a minute before something flashed in his eyes and he slammed his lips into mine. Shame hit me with the force of a blow. I did consent. I had been drunk, yes, but I was also desperately seeking a distraction, a release, and the notoriously charming Ace Maddox was right there at my disposal. I felt bile rise to my throat. “Oh my god I need to go. Where are my stuffs?” I rambled, getting off the bed with the duvet wrapped tightly around my chest. “Whoa whoa whoa. Where do you think you are going? This was a mutual mistake. I don't know why you're freaking out.” "Mutual mistake?" I hissed, clutching the duvet tighter. "You're a notorious playboy, this is just a Tuesday for you! For me, this is... this is the most irresponsible, stupid thing I have ever done!" He pulled his boxers up his legs, his back still to me. The raw power radiating off his frame was undeniable. "I think you're confused about this, we had a night, just one. It's over. No harm done." "No harm done?" My voice cracked. "My life is a wreck! My ex-fiancé just proposed to a supermodel and I just woke up in the bed of his biggest rival! The entire hockey world is going to—" "The entire hockey world is going to know absolutely nothing," he cut in, finally turning to face me. He didn't bother to cover up, and the sight was profoundly distracting. "No one saw us leave. This is my private penthouse, not a hotel lobby. No one knows you're here. Imani is the only person who knows we even spoke." He walked towards the massive window, pulling the heavy blackout curtains aside. The morning light flooded the luxurious room, revealing its sleek, minimalist decor. "Look," he said, not turning. "Its clear you are not used to this but last night was a mistake for both of us—a fun, drunken mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. It shouldn't have happened, and it won't happen again. If you want to go regardless, I'll call you an Uber." His dismissive tone extinguished the last flicker of adrenaline and replaced it with cold, hard humiliation. He saw me as just another conquest, I couldn't believe I could be so stupid. "Fine," I bit out, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. I dropped the duvet and rushed to gather the thing I'd discarded in a drunken stupor. "You won't have to call me an Uber. I'll leave right now." I moved toward the door, fumbling with the knob. "Wait." Ace's voice was sharp. I stopped but didn't turn. "Your dress is still damp. We spilled something on it on the way back from the bar." I looked down. The slinky black dress was nowhere to be found. Instead, I saw a discarded hockey jersey—a Maple Leafs jersey with 'MADDOX' and the number 19 on the back—tossed onto an armchair. My purse and phone were sitting neatly on a side table. Ace walked over to the armchair, picked up the jersey, and extended it to me. I stared at the thick, heavy fabric, then at him. "I'm not wearing your jersey." "It's either that or leave in your bra and shorts," he countered, gesturing to my minimal undergarments. "Choose." Gritting my teeth, I snatched the jersey from his hand. It smelled of him, clean and musky. It hung past my mid-thigh, instantly transforming into a surprisingly modest gown. "My clothes?" I asked, my voice flat. "They're in the laundry chute. I'll have them dropped off at Imani's office later today." "Don't bother," I snapped, slipping my feet into the heels I'd left by the bed. "We need to talk about what happens now," he said, his face serious. "What happens now? Nothing happens now," I insisted, finally turning to face him. "I walk out that door, and we pretend last night never happened. I'll tell Imani I crashed at a friend's place. We'll never see each other again." He shook his head slowly. "That's not going to work. Not for me." "And why the hell not?" He walked toward me, stopping only when the distance was painfully short. "Because Owen Evans just took a major hit to his image for leaving his 'sweet college sweetheart' for a supermodel. And I, as his biggest rival, need a serious boost to my public image to secure the multi-million dollar diamond campaign that his team is also bidding on." He paused, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "Last night, Aria was reckless. But today, it might be the start of the perfect solution for both of us." "Solution?" "You need to prove you've moved on and not look like a lost puppy half of the time," Ace said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "I need to look like a committed, mature man who's not just interested in one-night stands.” I scoffed at that. “Well all that sounds like a ‘you’ problem. I'm just going to walk out the door now.” "Help me, Aria," he said, his eyes intensely focused on mine, making me pause in my steps. "Be my public girlfriend. We stick it to Owen, you get your revenge, and I get my diamond campaign. We both win." He reached out and gently adjusted the neck of the jersey on my shoulder, a simple, non-sexual gesture that somehow felt more intimate than the night before. I felt the blood drain from my face. "You want me to fake date you?" "I want you to be seen with me," he corrected. "A convenient arrangement just for three months until the campaign decision is made." I stared at him, aghast. It was insane. "I don't know..." "Think about it," he pressed. "You're getting dragged through the mud by the tabloids right now. Imagine seeing Owen's face when he sees you on my arm—his biggest rival and I pay you handsomely for your time." "I don't want your money!" I retorted immediately. "Fine. Then do it for the satisfaction of watching Owen suffer." He smiled, a genuine, thrillingly wicked smile. "What do you say, Aria? Are you ready to play a game?" I closed my eyes. I can't even believe I'm considering this. "I have conditions," I said, opening my eyes. "Name them." "No sex. Never again. This is strictly business. And you call me Aria. Not darling." He considered this, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Deal, Darling. Now let's get you out of here before the sun is fully up." And I knew that my life would never remain the same. Chapter Five Aria's POV I walked into my apartment to find Imani waiting for me, arms crossed, eyes sharp. “Care to explain yourself, Aria?” she demanded. I swallowed, tightening my grip on my purse. I was still wearing Elion’s massive jersey, which made everything worse. “I can explain.” “Can you? Because you left me at a club I brought you to, disappeared for twelve hours, and judging by the state you’re in…” her eyes dragged over me, “…I’m guessing heaven was not the destination.” I winced. “It’s not what it looks like.” “Aria, you’re wearing a man’s jersey.” I hesitated. “I was with Ace.” “With who?” Her voice hit the ceiling. “Ace Maddox? The Maple’s star player? The same person whose abs have their own Wikipedia page?” I dropped to my knees. “It sounds worse than it is.” “Of course it does. He’s your ex-fiancé’s biggest rival. What were you thinking?” “I wasn’t,” I admitted. “We only slept together once… maybe thrice… but it was one night and that’s it.” She stared at me like I’d grown horns. Then she screamed. “You slept with Ace Maddox?!” I slapped a hand over her mouth. “Lower your voice!” She bit me. Hard. “Ouch!” “You vanished for twelve hours and this is your explanation?” I let my purse fall. “I didn’t plan it. I just… wanted to feel something other than betrayal.” Her anger melted. She pulled me into her arms and I broke. “I hate him,” I sobbed. “I hate Owen. I hate that I still miss him. I hate that I let him make me feel so small.” “I know, baby.” She pulled back, studying my face. “Did Ace hurt you?” “No. He was… decent. Which somehow makes this worse.” I inhaled sharply. “We made a deal. A business arrangement. He needs a girlfriend for his image. I need a public way to move on from Owen.” Her mouth fell open. “Fake dating Ace Maddox? Are you insane?” “It’s just three months. He offered to pay me but I refused.” “Good. Because otherwise I’d call a lawyer. But Aria, this is reckless, dramatic, and incredibly stupid… and also brilliant.” I told her everything. When I finished, she leaned forward, eyes glowing. “So Owen gets to watch his rival parade you around?” “That’s the idea.” Imani stood up, a slow smile spreading across her face. "You, Aria Kingston, are a genius. This is the revenge you deserve. This is how we prove that you are not the timid little girl he left behind." She grabbed my shoulders, giving me a celebratory shake. "Three months of public appearances, red carpets. Owen is going to be absolutely miserable? But you said you had conditions?" "Yes. It's strictly business between ace and i. No sex, ever again." Imani looked at me like she didn't believe a word I said. “What? I'm serious.” Imani rolled her eyes. “Well, since you’re about to be half of the hottest—and most hated—couple in the NHL, we need to go shopping. We are rebranding you, Aria. Starting now." ………………………………… As much as I love Imani, I hate her sometimes. She decided I had to attend the game against the Panthers. Naturally, I thought it was a terrible idea. When I told her I had nothing to wear, she magically appeared with shorts and a jersey like she’d already planned my downfall. An hour later, after near blindness from a mascara and serious hair trauma, I barely recognized myself. My ponytail was sleek, curls framing my face, my skin glowing. Imani walked in dressed just as lethal. We squealed. "Wow, Aria, wow. I know I’ve got magic hands but damn. I would kill for those curves." I laughed as she stared at my boobs with googly eyes. "Have you seen yourself? I would sacrifice a virgin to have your legs." "They are amazing, right? These jeans do wonders to my ass." "Speaking of jeans, did you get these shorts from the children's store?" The jeans were so tight I barely pulled them on. "Have you seen what you look like in them? It might be a size too small but you’ll live." She brushed me off but not before slapping my butt. "Let’s go. If we don’t leave now, the traffic might be too much." "Yes, boss," I said, picking up my purse and phone from the desk. As the arena came into view, my stomach twisted. This wasn’t just a game. This was my first public appearance as Ace Maddox’s “girlfriend” — and it was against Owen’s team. Imani pulled into the VIP parking, her expensive car gliding smoothly into a reserved spot. "Okay, deep breaths," she instructed, turning off the ignition. "This is just hockey. And you look incredible." "This is insane, Imani," I whispered, gripping the edge of my seat. "Everyone is going to be watching me. He is going to be watching me." "Exactly," she said, her smile sharp and predatory. She pulled out a tube of lip gloss and handed it to me. "Look at yourself, Aria. You look incredible. Owen is going to see you, and he’s going to choke on his Gatorade." She was right. The image was too satisfying to resist. I applied the gloss, smoothing it over my lips. We stepped out of the car. The evening air was crisp and loud with the distant roar of the crowd. Imani led me through a secluded side entrance. We didn't pass through the main entrance, but were quickly met by a woman holding a clipboard. "Ms. Kingston, Ms. Taylor, welcome. I’m Zara, Mr. Winter’s assistant. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the private suite." The walk was a blur of polished floors and hushed hallways, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. Soon, we arrived at a heavy, unmarked door. Zara opened it with a keycard. The suite was luxurious, overlooking the ice with a perfect, unobstructed view. It was empty save for two men: Ace Maddox and a mountain of a man who was clearly his security. Ace was leaning against the glass, already in his gear—jersey, skates, and helmet off, with a towel draped around his neck. He was talking earnestly to his trainer. He looked up when the door clicked shut, and his eyes found mine immediately. The sudden, intense gaze from across the room made my breath hitch. He looked even more formidable in his uniform, sweaty and focused. He excused himself from the trainer and walked towards us, pulling the towel from his neck. “Aria, thank you for coming," he said, nodding to me. He didn’t use his pet name, keeping to our agreement, but the intensity in his eyes felt like a violation of the 'strictly business' rule. "Ace," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. He glanced down at the Maples jersey I was wearing—his jersey, albeit styled differently. A corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. "Nice outfit. Imani, I’m trusting you to keep her out of trouble until after the second period." "Already on it, Ace," Imani assured him, pulling her phone out. "Good." He turned back to me, his focus narrowing. "Just relax, watch the game, and look happy. You can even cheer for me. I don’t mind a little enthusiasm." "I’ll try to keep the cheering to a minimum," I countered, feeling a flicker of my old spark return. He grinned—a flash of pure, confident heat. "Wouldn’t want to give Owen any ideas. He gets jealous easily. See you out there." With that, he was gone, leaving the room vibrating with his presence. As the lights dimmed and the Panthers skated onto the ice, I gripped Imani’s arm. And there he was—Owen Evans, number nineteen, skating near the blue line. He looked exactly the same: confident,and oblivious to the chaos he’d left behind. Then, the Maples entered. The roar of the crowd was deafening. I scanned the group until I saw number eight, Ace. The first period started. I tried to focus on the game, but my eyes kept darting to Owen. About ten minutes in, a skirmish broke out near the boards. Owen and another Maples player got tangled up. The camera panned close, and the jumbo-screen flashed Owen’s furious face. Just as the ref separated them, the camera cut to a shot of the VIP boxes. And then, the ultimate validation: the camera landed directly on Ace’s box. Imani had positioned us perfectly by the glass. The jumbo screen showed Imani and me, both laughing at something she had just said. The sight of my face—happy, relaxed, and wearing a Maple Leafs jersey—was now plastered over every screen in the arena. The timing was impeccable. Owen looked up just as the camera showed me. I saw the exact moment his eyes found mine, and his jaw locked. The look on his face—a mixture of shock, confusion, and raw possessiveness—was better than any victory. He had to know: I was in Ace’s box. I raised my glass of sparkling water—looking for all the world like I was toasting him—and gave him the coldest, most indifferent smile I could muster. It felt like the first breath I'd taken in four weeks. The revenge tasted sweet, cold, and utterly intoxicating. The game was on. Chapter Six Aria’s POV I let out a victory scream as the maples scored the final goal against the panthers. I was lost in the moment and completely unaware of how loud I was or how much I was jumping all over the place. I caught myself in the screen cam looking like it was my husband who just won a match. I turned sharply from the camera, hiding my face in my hands. If embarrassment was a person, I would be the exact representation. I turned slowly, meeting Owens face in the crowd of cheering. The look on his face was pure torment, a look that should have given me satisfaction but instead a deep dark resentment ran over me. I tried to ignore him, focusing on Ace, who was waving at me from the ice. He skated straight toward the glass wall separating the rink from the VIP boxes, stopping right in front of our suite. He was still pumped from the win, chest heaving, his face flushed with exertion and triumph. He pointed at the tunnel entrance—a clear invitation to meet him down below. "He wants us to go down there," Imani murmured, already grabbing her coat. "Come on, this is the perfect exit." My heart hammered in my chest. Going down meant entering the chaos, the post-game frenzy. It meant facing Owen, who was still glaring up at the box from the penalty area, his gaze fixed solely on me. "Are you sure?" I whispered, suddenly feeling small again. "He just beat your ex's team.This is the perfect ‘in your face' moment from you to the asshole who shall not be named. Come on you have to go," Imani insisted, practically dragging me out the door. Ace’s eyes glistened when I approached. He looked so hot in his hockey gear, causing my heart to skip a beat for a minute. He smiled, radiating a heat that made me miss my steps. I hobbled slightly on the ice and he rushed forward to catch me. Without stopping, he picked me up from my feet, twirling me around, his smile not fading for one minute. I giggled midair, tucking my face into his shoulders out of embarrassment. Once he had his fill, he dropped me gently to the ground, his hand wrapped around my waist. I tried to pull away but he only pulled me closer, his breath mingled with mine. For a second he leaned, I closed my eyes on impulse expecting a kiss. I felt his soft lips on my cheeks, breaking me out of my trance. “Did you enjoy the game?” he asked, scanning my face. “Yes,” I whispered, leaning close. “Especially that body check with Owen.” He grinned, a mischievous, double-meaning in his tone. “I’m glad I could satisfy your needs.” I flushed. I'm just going to blame all this blushing on the cold. “Let me hit the showers real quick, I will be out with you guys in a minute.” I nodded walking over to imani "The crowd is going nuts. Look." She nodded toward the wall of cameras flashing in the distance, near the main tunnel exit. “This is going to break the internet. Owen is probably trying to find a trash can to puke in right now." I looked over my shoulder toward the ice, but Owen was already gone, presumably heading to hell. Good. The less I saw of him, the better. Zara, Ace's assistant, led us to the waiting area outside the locker rooms. A few minutes later the door to the locker room opened, and Ace stepped out, freshly showered and wearing a crisp, dark suit that made him look like a devastatingly handsome CEO. "Are you ready?" he said, quietly, and then he slung his arm possessively over my shoulders, pulling me into his side. The movement was unexpected, but his body heat was a welcome surprise. Before I could answer, a flood of reporters surged toward us, cameras flashing blindingly. "Ace! Ace, over here! Is this the new woman in your life?" "Is this the reason for your winning streak, Maddox?" "She's wearing your jersey, Ace! Can you confirm this is exclusive?" Ace didn't miss a beat. He tightened his grip on me, his smile wide and charming for the cameras. “You can say that she is indeed my lucky charm,” he said, leaning down to press a quick, firm kiss right on my temple. It was totally for the cameras, totally fake, and yet, it sent a wave of heat down my neck. There were no other words needed, that was all the reporters indeed to go wild. As we walked, I tried to keep the shock off my face and simply beam at the cameras, leaning into him as if I was utterly smitten. It was the best performance of my life. The walk out was exactly as chaotic as he predicted. As soon as we stepped into the hallway, the flashbulbs exploded. Ace’s hand found mine, and the grip was firm, grounding. His security guard, the mountain of a man from the suite, magically appeared and created a perimeter around us. I tried to follow his lead, offering small, composed smiles, but my heart was doing frantic acrobatics. This was terrifying, exhilarating, and completely surreal. Finally, we reached his waiting SUV, black and heavily tinted. The security guard opened the door, and Ace practically shielded me with his body as he ushered me inside, Imani following close behind. The moment the doors slammed shut and the vehicle pulled away, the silence was deafening. Ace let go of my hand, but not before squeezing it reassuringly. "See? Easy peasy." I stared at him, still slightly breathless. "That was not ‘easy peasy.’ I think I temporarily lost my vision." I heard a voice outside the car, cutting through the noise—a voice that turned my blood to ice. I knew that voice anywhere. It was Owen calling my name.