Page 31 of Her Puck Daddies (Game On Daddies #2)

AVA

A few months ago—hell, even a week ago—I never would’ve imagined I’d be willing to endanger myself like this.

But now, I’m the one who might be able to pull this off.

After Leighton gave me an update on her restraining order and some digging on her brother’s end, we uncovered that Dean hasn’t been at Effortless Massage and Tranquility Center in weeks.

In fact, no one has. The business hasn’t been open at all.

Did my message plastered on the office windows deter customers from coming back?

Or something else? It’s bizarre since he only ever closed the business during Holidays.

And now, he’s a total no-show. While it makes my theory more plausible, it’s also scary.

What if all those man-shaped shadows weren’t me being paranoid?

What if they were him in the flesh? Even if only once?

The thought of him lurking in the shadows makes me shiver.

But this is on me now. I’m done being the little wife Dean kept around to insult, manipulate, and screw with while he had everything his way.

I’ve long since accepted that Dean Masters never loved me.

He loved the idea of controlling a wife, having his cake, and eating it too.

And if gaslighting and verbal abuse are his versions of love, then I’m better off without him.

Everything points to the man showing up today being him. So, I’ve agreed to wear a wire and talk to him until he incriminates himself. He loves to brag, to be seen as someone important, so this shouldn’t be too damn hard.

I haven’t told the guys about this plan.

I haven’t even told Leighton. This is happening in secret.

Barb knows, of course, and she’s shared part of it with coach.

Henrich and Barrett are here with what they keep calling 'their other eyes and ears,' which I assume means more members of their security team, though I don’t see anyone else.

At least Barrett is hidden a few feet away, which provides some comfort.

The fact that we’re meeting in broad daylight at a park near the arena helps, too. It’s cold now that November has slipped into December, and the sun offers little warmth. But I’m a Jersey girl. I know how to bundle up. Plus, all the layers help conceal the subtle wire running between my breasts .

I can do this. I’ve got this.

I repeat the words in my mind as I walk casually by the enclosure holding Blucifer. My phone is raised, pretending to snap pictures of the statue like any normal tourist.

“That’s good. Right there,” Henrich’s voice crackles in my ear, and I find comfort in the command. It’s a reminder that I’m not alone in this.

I’m literally taking pictures of this damn horse statue. I’ve never cared about it before, never given it more than a passing glance, but right now, it feels like the perfect cover. Anyone glancing at my screen would see exactly what I want them to.

I may appear to be composed to anyone passing by, but my breathing is shallow, uneven, too fast. I try to slow it, try to keep myself steady, but my body isn’t cooperating.

Still, I adjust quickly, preparing for whatever comes next. Because when I said "I do," I never imagined this. I never pictured him descending this far, sinking low enough to extort millions from some of the most famous pro athletes out there.

But then again, I never imagined he’d become this cruel either.

Live and learn. Well… that’s the plan, at least.

A f igure stops near me, just close enough but not too close.

With forced nonchalance, I steal a glance to confirm my worst fear—it’s Dean.

I haven’t seen him in so long and seeing him now feels strangely unfamiliar—like I'm looking at a ghost of the man I once knew, but with all the warmth and familiarity of the early days drained out.

“Well, well, well, fancy running into you here, Mrs. Masters,” he says, his voice smooth but dripping with sarcasm.

“I had a feeling it was you.” Somehow, I manage to speak without my voice trembling.

“I just fucking bet,” he mutters, turning to face me. I stand my ground, but it’s a struggle. “Who the hell do you think you are? Leaving me without a word? Slapping divorce papers on my desk like I’m some fucking stranger?”

His rage is palpable, his whole body trembling with it. This time, I take a cautious step back, instinct urging me to create distance.

“Is that what you want?” I ask, forcing the words out. “You want me back as Mrs. Masters?”

Just as I ask, I catch a slight movement in my peripheral vision, but I refuse to let it break my focus on him. This is the plan I presented to the team, offer myself up as bait, get him to confess.

“ You are my goddamn wife,” he spits, his tone venomous.

“Whether you like it or not. But whoring yourself out to those other assholes proves you’re not worthy of me.

You should’ve been fucking thankful I saved you from the streets.

And instead of repaying me, you go and give yourself up to not one, but three guys? You’re especially not worth it now.”

I scoff, the hypocrisy almost laughable. “Now? That’s rich, coming from the guy I caught balls deep in one of our massage clients.”

His eyes narrow, but I don’t flinch. He casually slips his hands into his pockets, that same smug look settling over his face. The sight of it only makes my anger burn hotter, replacing the fear that had crept in moments ago. I want to slap that smirk off his weasel-like face.

“Looks like I’ll be coming into a windfall soon. A hefty sum. And until I have it in my hands, your lawyer won’t be getting these signed divorce papers .” He waves them like a trophy, taunting me.

“Is that right?”

“That’s right, you little slut.” His gaze flickers with satisfaction. “I saw how you were with them. Is that how you got the job? Slept your way right to the top?”

I c an feel my fists clenching, my nails digging into my palms as I try to contain myself. “What are you talking about?”

“I liked to keep tabs on you. Make sure you were where you said you were. Imagine my surprise when you disappeared on me. Then to see who you were with, who you’re still with.

” His voice had been building, full of anger, but then it drops to a low murmur.

“Once I saw that video from back in Jersey and did some digging to find out who they were, it was only a matter of time before I tracked you down. Oh, but no. I’m no longer interested in your ruined cunt.

Just ran through. So, I’ll just take the money instead. ”

He glances at his watch, a smug grin stretching across his face. “And I’ll have it soon. Momentarily, in fact.”

I catch the time on my phone, noting it’s almost 5:00 PM, just like his message had indicated.

“Money?” I ask, playing confused.

“I deserve those millions, and it’s not like they can’t afford it,” he sneers, stepping closer and shoving me off balance. “I’m sure afterward, they’ll toss you to the curb like the trash you are.”

His words hit me like a slap, but before I can respond, everything happens in a blur.

Fou r men dressed in black emerge from the shadows, descending on Dean like a ton of bricks.

In the chaos, I misstep, pain flaring in my healing ankle as I stumble.

It had been doing better, I hadn’t needed crutches today, but I still had to be careful.

The moment I put too much pressure on it, my balance gives out, and I crash to the ground.

A sharp sting shoots up my leg, but I grit my teeth and push through it.

Because from where I’m sprawled on the sidewalk, watching through the haze of pain, I see what matters most—Dean being hauled away. His struggles are useless against the security team, their movements swift and controlled as they take him down.

One of the security team members peels away from the others to help me up, and when I look up, I see it’s Barrett. “Excellent job, Ava. You okay?”

“Tweaked my ankle again, but I’ll live.” With exhilaration and adrenaline pumping through me, I ask, “Did we get enough to put a stop to all this?”

“Oh, yeah,” Barrett assures me with a grin. “And then some. I grabbed this for you. Looks like the divorce papers you mentioned.”

Relief washes over me. The weight of everything I've been through—the fear, the anger, the helplessness—finally begins to set tle, and in its place, I have a sense of clarity. It’s really happening. Dean is going down.

And I’m the one who took him down.

Once the immediate danger is dealt with, I head inside the arena with the security team. Doc McClaney quickly checks me over, and after an X-ray, he confirms that the damage to my ankle is minimal. He clears me to go home.

As I step out of Doc’s exam room and into the hallway, I spot Sven, Eric, and Levi approaching. It’s time to come clean about everything that just happened, even though I know this is going to go over like a turd in a punchbowl.

What I don’t expect, however, is for Eric to be the one with the strongest reaction.

“What the actual fuck were you thinking?” he yells, his voice rising with a force that I’ve never heard from him.

Levi, sure. Even Sven has a temper. But sweet Eric?

This is throwing me for a loop. I think it’s the fact that I was fully onboard with going undercover that has him losing his shit the most. “You volunteered for this? You could’ve been killed. ”

“They had surveillance on me the entire time,” I explain quickly, trying to calm the storm. “They were only feet away.”

“ But you didn’t tell us,” Sven says, frowning and dragging a hand through his blond hair, looking more disappointed than angry.

“I knew you’d have a problem with it,” I reply, but it sounds weak, even to me.

I glance at Levi, waiting for his explosion. As the most hot-headed of the three, I expected him to lose it the worst. I notice him seething, his jaw clenched, as he sits on a bench along the hallway. But then, to my surprise, he speaks.

“You’re all right?” he asks through gritted teeth, his concern cutting through the anger.

“Yes,” I answer, relieved at his softer tone.

“And you proved to that asshole that you can’t be cowed ever again.” Levi’s words sink in. He gets it. He understands me.

I straighten my spine, pride swelling in my chest. “That’s right.”

He gets up and walks over to me, pulling me into a tight hug. “Please don’t ever do something like this again.”

I grip him back just as firmly. “If this works out, I shouldn’t have to.”

“Come on. Let’s get you home, Ava,” Sven says.

The y drive me home, and as soon as they all step into my apartment, it hits me just how cramped the space is. With the three of them here, it feels like I’m a sardine in a can.

I could stay here, I guess. I’ve proven to myself that I’m capable of doing whatever I want, whenever I want.

But staying here no longer interests me.

This place was my first step toward freedom—a space I could afford on my own, a fresh start, a hiding place where I convinced myself Dean wouldn’t find me. But all of that is behind me now…

Now, the wolf pack standing in front of me? That is something that intrigues me. And it calls to me.

“Sven,” I sigh. “About what you said the other day... moving in?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he replies, a grin spreading across his face.

“Well then… I guess I’m all yours.”