Just My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires by Esther Pen novel Chapter 239

ARIA’S POV

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The heavy, metallic thud of the front door echoing through the empty foyer felt like a physical blow to my chest.

I stood completely frozen in the center of the grand entryway, my hands trembling as the silence of the house settled heavily around me.

“And you’re the one defending your ex.”

Brandon’s parting words rang painfully in my ears, making my blood run hot with a mixture of raw anger and deep, biting hurt.

I gripped the thick fabric of my oversized sweater tightly, my breathing coming in shallow, ragged gasps. How could he say that to me? How could he look me in the eye after everything we had been through and accuse me of taking Julian’s side?

I wasn’t defending Julian. I didn’t care about Julian’s ruined hockey career, his desperate downfall, or his pathetic, drunken meltdowns at the arena.

He had made his own bed, and he could drown in it for all I cared. But Julian was Amelia’s biological father.

For all his massive flaws, his unbearable arrogance, and his selfishness, I knew him. Or at least, I thought I did.

He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a monster who would hire masked criminals to violently snatch his own flesh and blood off the street in a crowded park.

Brandon was letting his personal hatred and fierce rivalry blind him. His intense, suffocating possessiveness was driving a dangerous wedge right between us, turning a terrifying situation into an excuse to wage a war of alpha males.

Unable to bear the suffocating quiet of the foyer any longer, I turned away from the door and walked slowly

the grand staircase. My legs felt like absolute lead, aching with every step.

up

I needed to see my daughter. I needed to see her with my own eyes, to watch the rise and fall of her chest, just to convince my racing heart that she was truly safe and whole.

I pushed Amelia’s bedroom door open with absolute care, twisting the brass handle slowly so it wouldn’t click, and slipped inside the dark room.

The star–shaped nightlight cast a soft, warm, amber glow across the pink blankets. Sarah was sitting quietly in the armchair by the corner, her posture straight, her hands neatly wrapped in clean white bandages by the house medical team.

She looked completely exhausted, the dark circles under her eyes vivid in the dim light, but the moment she saw my shadow enter, she immediately began to stand up.

“Miss Aria,” she whispered softly, her voice filled with instinctive respect as she adjusted her posture.

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18:03 Thu, Jul 16

Chapter 239

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“Don’t get up, Sarah,” I murmured, rushing forward with a gentle wave of my hand and walking over to the side of the bed. I looked down at Amelia, who was snoring softly, her small arms hugging her favorite stuffed bear tightly against her chest.

She looked so small, so incredibly innocent. The sight eased the tight, painful knot in my chest, if only a little. I turned my attention back to the nanny, keeping my voice down to a low whisper.

“You should be resting in your own room. You’ve been through so much today. The doctor said you needed sleep.”

Sarah offered a gentle, modest smile, shaking her head lightly as she looked down at her bandaged palms. “I couldn’t sleep, ma’am. Every time I close my eyes, I just think about those men jumping out of the bushes. I wanted to make sure I was right here if Amelia woke up frightened or had a nightmare. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her while I was asleep.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes at her profound dedication. After everything that had happened, after being shoved into the gravel herself, her only thought was still my daughter.

I stepped closer, placing a comforting, deeply grateful hand on her shoulder. “You saved her today, Sarah. You fought for her when those men attacked, and you got hurt because of it. I don’t even have the words to tell you how grateful I am to have you in our lives.”

“I just did what anyone who loves Amelia would do, Miss Aria,” Sarah whispered, her wide eyes shining with pure sincerity.

“Mr. Brandon’s guards are wonderful, but danger can come from anywhere. We just have to stay vigilant. The people who did this… they knew exactly when to strike.”

“They did,” I agreed, a heavy, exhausted sigh escaping my lips as her words struck a chord. “Thank you, Sarah. Please, try to get some rest in the chair at least. I’ll have the guards bring you up some warm tea.”

She nodded submissively, lowering her eyes in that quiet, respectful way she always did. I took one last, lingering look at my sleeping daughter before quietly exiting the room, closing the door behind me with absolute precision.

I walked back down the hallway and stepped into my study, intending to clean up the broken tea cup from my explosive argument with Brandon.

As I knelt on the plush rug, picking up the shattered pieces of porcelain one by one, the sheer weight of everything completely crashed down on me.

My hands began to shake, and I accidentally dropped a shard back onto the tray. Giving up on the cleanup, I sat heavily on the edge of the velvet couch and pulled my tablet toward me.

My fingers flew across the screen as I pulled up the sports news headlines from a few days ago, searching for the triggers Brandon had mentioned.

“Julian Vance’s Stadium Meltdown: Career on the Line after Violent Glass Shattering Incident.”

There were high–definition pictures of Julian, his face twisted in unhinged, alcohol–fueled rage, pointing aggressively toward the VIP back offices–directly at Brandon.

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Chapter 239

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The articles detailed his erratic behavior, his mounting debts, and his public threats. The stress pulled at me from both sides like a vicious tug–of–war.

Brandon was out there right now in the night, letting his cold, dangerous paranoia dictate his actions, doubling the guards, and turning my peaceful home into a heavily armed military fortress.

And Julian was spinning entirely out of control, fueled by bitterness and liquor, making himself look like a prime suspect to anyone watching.

I set the tablet down on the coffee table, my jaw hardening as a spark of defiance finally replaced my crippling exhaustion. I couldn’t just sit here in this house and let Brandon and Julian tear the world apart around my daughter.

I couldn’t let Brandon’s cold accusations dictate our reality without absolute proof, and I couldn’t trust Julian’s stability anymore.

If Julian was truly capable of crossing this line and orchestrating a kidnapping, I needed to see it for myself. I needed to look him in the eye, without Brandon’s suffocating presence, and find out the truth.

I was going to take control of my own life, bypass Brandon’s security lines if I had to, and get answers directly from the source.

I stood up, walking over to the window and staring out at the heavily armed tactical guards patrolling my moonlit courtyard. I felt a deep, strange sense of comfort knowing they were out there protecting the perimeter.

I stood by the glass, my forehead leaning against the cool pane as I watched the sharp sweep of headlights cut through the darkness. The sleek, powerful frame of Brandon’s sports car glided up the long driveway, cutting the engine just below my window.

My heart ached with a sudden, sharp intensity that stole my breath away. He was back. He had gone out to clear his head, but his brief absence hadn’t softened the blow of his words. If anything, the cold distance had only made the burning in my chest worse.

I was so angry. I was furious that he could just walk out on me, furious that he had turned our daughter’s terrifying day into a twisted weapon to use against my character.

I watched the driver’s side door swing open, and Brandon stepped out into the floodlights, his shoulders tense, his posture still radiating that rigid, unyielding armor.

He didn’t look up at my window. He just closed the door with a quiet, controlled thud and walked toward the

entrance.

A part of me wanted to run downstairs, to meet him in the foyer and demand an apology, to scream at him until he finally understood the difference between protecting our family and suffocating it.

But as his heavy footsteps vibrated through the floorboards a minute later, moving down the hall toward the guest wing instead of our bedroom, I closed my eyes.

The anger didn’t fade; it just hardened into a cold, solid resolve Brandon was going to draw his battle lines. and he was going to lock this house down from the outside.

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