Page 21 of Slap Shot (Charm City Chill #3)

O liver

The Meridian Building rose against the evening sky like a monument to modern ambition, glass and steel reaching toward stars that were invisible against the city's glow.

Somewhere in that tower, on the eighth floor, Kai Moreno was orchestrating the destruction of everything Oliver had built since escaping that warehouse.

He sat in his car across the street, studying the building's entrance and fighting the urge to turn around and drive home to Charlie's reassuring presence.

Three years ago, he and Kai had used this exact building for a federal contract, something about tracking cryptocurrency flows for a money laundering investigation.

They'd rented a small office on the eighth floor, spent two weeks mapping the building's network infrastructure, learning every router configuration and bandwidth allocation pattern.

Oliver had thought they were the good guys then.

He crossed the street and approached the main entrance, watching a steady stream of professionals badge in and out. The security looked standard—card readers, cameras, a bored guard behind a reception desk who was more focused on his phone than the people walking past.

A woman in a business suit approached the door, juggling coffee and a laptop bag while fumbling for her access card. Oliver stepped forward.

"Let me get that for you," he said, reaching for the heavy glass door.

"Thanks," she said, swiping her card and holding the door open for him as he followed her inside.

Oliver nodded his thanks to the woman and headed for the elevators, just another consultant visiting clients on a Tuesday afternoon.

The eighth floor was different from the public spaces below. Quieter, more focused, with actual offices behind frosted glass instead of open co-working spaces. Oliver walked the hallway slowly, checking door numbers and listening for the distinctive hum of serious computing equipment.

He found it behind door 847. The low whir of multiple machines ran at capacity, the kind of white noise that came from a professional-grade setup. Oliver tried the handle. Locked, but that wasn't surprising.

What was surprising was how easily the lock yielded to techniques he'd learned during his less legitimate days. Either Kai had gotten sloppy, or he wanted to be found.

Oliver pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The office looked like a mobile command center.

Three laptops connected to a rack of portable servers, multiple monitors displaying scrolling code and network diagrams, cables snaking across the floor in organized chaos.

But it was discreet, hidden behind the closed door of a legitimate rental office, not scattered across a public workspace where anyone could see it.

Kai sat behind the main desk, fingers flying across a keyboard. He looked up as Oliver entered, and that familiar smirk spread across his face.

"Took you long enough," Kai said. "Though I have to admit, the network triangulation was impressive. You always were better at infrastructure analysis than I gave you credit for."

Prison had changed him. The boyish features Oliver remembered had hardened into something more angular, more predatory. Two years of federal incarceration had stripped away whatever softness Kai had once possessed.

"Hello, Kai."

"You look good. Clean living agrees with you." Kai leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed. "How's the anxiety? Still having panic attacks, or did the therapy finally stick?"

The casual invasion of his privacy made Oliver's chest tighten. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Since the day I got out. Did you really think I'd forgotten about my old partner?" Kai gestured to his monitors. "I know everything, Oliver. Your coach's contract disputes with management. Your girlfriend's employment history. Even your medication dosage and therapy sessions."

"Leave them out of this."

Kai laughed, and the sound carried a manic edge that definitely hadn't been there during their partnership. "They ARE this. Your new life, your clean slate, your chance at redemption is all built on lies. And lies have a way of surfacing."

"You got your revenge. The salary leaks, the attacks on Vicky's reputation, you've hurt people who never did anything to you."

"Hurt them?" Kai's voice carried mock offense. "I'm educating them. About false hope, about trusting systems that don't work, about believing in people who'll abandon you the moment things get complicated."

"People like me."

"People exactly like you." Kai's expression hardened. "You left me to rot, Oliver. Took immunity for yourself and let me face federal charges alone."

"You sold me out first—"

"I made a practical decision when we were compromised.

You made it personal when you testified against me.

" Kai stood, moving around the desk with predatory grace.

"But that's okay. Prison taught me valuable lessons.

About loyalty. About consequences. About making sure people remember their mistakes. "

Adrenaline flooded his system, the familiar combination of fear and focus he remembered from their most dangerous jobs. But something was different this time. He wasn't the naive kid who'd trusted his partner blindly. He'd survived worse than Kai could dish out.

"So what's the endgame? You destroy the team, ruin Vicky's career, expose my past, then what?"

"Then you come back where you belong. With me. As partners." Kai's smile was sharp, hungry. "Because once all this comes out, once everyone knows what you really are, I'll be the only person left who understands you."

The delusion was breathtaking. Oliver saw it clearly now, the same twisted logic that had driven Kai's worst impulses during their partnership. The belief that he could force loyalty through destruction, create connection through shared isolation.

"That's never going to happen."

"No?" Kai pulled up a document on his screen.

"This is Coach Victoria Kovalchuk's email to Jack Westlake from last Tuesday.

Quote: 'If ownership thinks they can undermine my authority by second-guessing every personnel decision, they're welcome to find a new coach.

I won't be anyone's token female.' Unquote. "

Oliver's stomach dropped. Taken out of context, stripped of the sexist board behavior that had prompted it, that email would end Vicky's career.

"She was defending herself against discrimination—"

"She was threatening to quit unless she got her way.

At least, that's how it'll read when it hits social media tomorrow morning.

" Kai's fingers hovered over his keyboard.

"Along with your employment records, your girlfriend's background check and problems with her ex-husband, and a very detailed analysis of how the Chill hired a known cybercriminal to play left wing. "

"You son of a bitch."

"Name-calling won't help your friends. But cooperation might." Kai's voice dropped to something almost intimate. "I have a proposition. A partnership opportunity that could benefit everyone."

"What kind of partnership?"

"The kind we were meant for. High-stakes work, serious money, clients who appreciate our particular skill set.

" Kai pulled up another screen showing financial records.

"I've got contracts lined up, corporate espionage, political opposition research, the kind of jobs that pay seven figures and don't ask questions about methods. "

Oliver sneered. "Illegal work."

"Profitable work. Work that uses our talents properly instead of wasting them on corporate security consulting." Kai's eyes glittered with the same enthusiasm Oliver remembered from their early days. "We were good together. The best team in the business. We could be again."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then tomorrow morning, every major sports outlet gets a very detailed expose about the Charm City Chill's cybersecurity failures.

Your coach's inflammatory emails, your girlfriend's questionable past, and your own criminal background.

" Kai's smile turned predatory. "I wonder how long it'll take for federal prosecutors to decide your immunity agreement was violated? "

The threat was comprehensive, devastating. Oliver could see exactly how it would play out—media firestorm, federal investigation, everyone he cared about destroyed by association with his past.

But something had changed in him during the past few months. Heather's trust, the team's acceptance, Charlie's steady presence, they'd shown him he was more than his worst mistakes. He wasn't the scared kid who'd let Kai manipulate him anymore.

"I need time to think about it."

"Of course you do. Twenty-four hours, Oliver. That's how long your friends have left." Kai settled back into his chair, already turning toward his computers. "Don't disappoint me again."

Oliver headed for the door, his mind racing through possibilities. Kai thought he held all the cards, but he'd made one crucial mistake. He'd revealed his location, his methods, his timeline. Information that could be weaponized if Oliver was smart enough to use it.

HEATHER

Heather's secure monitoring system chimed with an alert that made her blood freeze.

Someone was accessing her network analysis tools—not from an external attack, but from inside the Chill's own systems. Someone with administrative privileges was running the same triangulation programs she'd built to track Kai's location.

Oliver.

She pulled up the access logs, her heart sinking as she recognized his digital signature all over her tracking algorithms. He was using her own tools to pinpoint Kai's exact location, which meant he was planning something monumentally stupid.

Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: Thanks for the network maps, sweetheart. Your boyfriend's getting close. Hope he's ready for what he finds. -HexAngel

Kai knew Oliver was coming. This wasn't just reckless. It was a trap.