Page 9 of Break the Ice

“I wouldn’t rule anything out, Coach,” I answer, stepping ahead of him. I’m done with talking about Morasca and my contract being up. “I go where I want to go. Always have, always will.”

The night of Hawk’s party arrives. It’s no surprise it quickly turns into mayhem—and that’s before I’ve even shown up. I make it to the Onyx Hotel almost two hours later than everybody else. The event’s being held on the top floor of the renowned luxury hotel.

I enter the room to athletes and other important people everywhere I look. It’s not some hoity-toity, high-class affair like Hawk pretends it is. If it ever started that way, it’s morphed into something else. Some fucked up mirror version of itself—Ice Girls and escorts-for-hire are negotiating the terms for the night with the athletes. Team execs snort blow as a casual pastime. Wealthy businessmen put their heads together in hushed private talk about business.

Legal and otherwise.

I spot Hawk right away. He’s not alone, standing with none other than Quigley Blackman, owner of the hotel, and… Marisse March.

The second they’ve caught my attention, Marisse says something that makes Hawk clap his hands together in amused approval.

My eyes narrow, though I remain where I am, lurking among dozens. I’m not the lurker type—I cause too much chaos to ever blend in enough—but for this brief moment, I’m fulfilling the role.

It shouldn’t bother me seeing her kiss Hawk’s ass.

Everybody does, from management to the players. People in the sports world are intimidated by a legend like Jasper Hawk.

In Marisse’s case, it’s more than admiration. She’s acting out of self-preservation. She’s no different from any of the other bimbos that have been hired.

She struts around the Wolves’ training facility like she’s so special. She’s so morally superior to the rest of us, she’s going to fix our image; she’s going to fix me.

The day we’d met, she’d looked at me like I was fucking gum stuck to the bottom of her Louboutin.

My face darkens as I watch Marisse excuse herself from the group, then Hawk and Blackman sharing grins. Everybody involved knows the deal.

I’d have skipped tonight’s event altogether, but Hawk insisted I come. He wants to discuss a new contract deal. His way of luring me here. We’ll see if he puts his money where his mouth is and offers the right price to get me to stay past the end of the season.

But if he wants me to stay, then he’ll have to realize I won’t be controlled like the rest. Even Dad and Colt. I’m a force of my own, and I’ll be given no image revamp.

Either he keeps his most talented player or he gives into the whim of the pussy he’s hired to fuck. He can’t do both.

I’ll make him get rid of her myself if it comes down to it.

The agitation burning me up seconds ago cools for the icy, shudder-inducing thrill chaos brings. I abandon my lurker role and throw myself into the party headfirst.

Hawk’s eyes light up when he notices me approaching. “Alpha, there you are! I was just asking Quig if you’d arrived.”

“He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to be center of attention,” Mr. Blackman sneers.

“Speaking of the center of attention, where’s your twin?” Hawk asks. “I invited Colt too. His career might be over, but he’s still a part of the Wolves family.”

I remain unamused. “We’re not twins.”

“Damn near look like you are. You’re only a few years apart.”

“I’m not surprised he didn’t turn up,” Blackman says. “He’s chosen to distance himself from the hockey world.”

I ignore him and ask Hawk a pointed question. “When are we doing contract talks? I hate to interrupt the schmoozing going on, but it’s the only reason I’m here.”

Hawk tosses back the last of his drink and pairs it with a gruff laugh. “You think what was just happening was schmoozing? I was reminding Ms. March we have a meeting of our own in my penthouse later. You know how it goes. We’ve got to at least pretend we’re keeping business and pleasure separate.”

Mr. Blackman joins in on his laughter.

I’m unmoved, still aggressive and impatient. “You better make sure business is discussed before that pleasure. I’m not here to be part of your circus act, Hawk. But I can damn sure put on a performance if you refuse to hold up your end of the bargain—something tells me it won’t be the kind of performance you want at these team events. Bad press is the last thing you’re looking for.”

“Alpha, there’s no need for dramatics?—”

“You have an hour.”