Just My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires by Esther Pen novel Chapter 244

10:46 Thu, Jul 23 d D ))

Chapter 244

Chapter 244

ARIA’S POV

The heavy oak front doors clicked shut behind me, cutting off the humid afternoon air, but the suffocating weight in my chest only grew heavier.

The papers from the manila envelope were still clutched in my hand, the crisp edges crinkling against my trembling fingers Every word I had read was a drop of acid burning through the last five years of my life.

A mafia kingpin. A calculated target. A revenge plot.

My legs felt like lead as I walked into the foyer. I expected to find the quiet comfort of my home, but instead, I found Amelia standing by the bottom of the grand staircase.

Her little pink dress was slightly wrinkled, and her wide, innocent eyes were already brimming with tears.

“Mum?” her small voice echoed in the cavernous space, “Where is… where is Uncle Brandon? Where did Dad go?”

I swallowed hard, trying to force the trembling out of my voice, trying to piece together the shattered remnants of my composure for her sake. “He’s gone, Amelia. He had to leave.”

“You’re lying,” Amelia’s voice cracked, a harsh sob ripping from her chest. She took a step back, her tiny fists clenching at her sides. “I saw you through the window, Mum. I saw you tell him to leave. I saw you slap him.”

The accusation hit me like a physical blow. My mind was already spinning from the betrayal, the horror of knowing that the man who held me every night had approached me five years ago purely to destroy me as retribution for a tragic accident,

The stress, the heartbreak, and the sheer terror of my reality finally broke through my filter. “Amelia, stop it!” I snapped, my voice louder and sharper than I had ever intended, “You are still a child. You don’t understand anything about what is happening right now.”

Amelia flinched, her lower lip trembling violently. It was the first time I had ever raised my voice at her like that, and the instant regret tasted like ash in my mouth.

But before I could step forward to apologize, Amelia yelled back, her voice thick with absolute heartbreak.

“I do understand,” she cried, the tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. “You just chased away the only man who ever treated me like a princess. I hate you.”

With a loud wail, she turned on her heel and sprinted up the stairs, her little bare feet thudding against the carpeted steps until the distant slam of her bedroom door echoed through the house.

I sank onto the bottom step, burying my face in my hands as a sob finally broke through my throat. My entire world was fracturing from the inside out.

“Miss Aria, a soft voice murmured beside me.

I looked up through a blur of tears to see Sarah standing there. Her hands were still wrapped in their neat white bandages, her expression filled with a quiet, profound sympathy.

She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t judge. Til go up and take care of her,” Sarah said gently, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “She’s just confused and hurt. Give her a little time. I’ll make sure she eats her dinner.

“Thank you, Sarah,” I whispered, my voice completely broken As Sarah quietly walked up the stairs to comfort my daughter, Lleaned my head against the wooden banister, staring blankly at the crumpled les scattered on the marble floor

My mind was a chaotic war zone. I hated Brandon. I hated him for the lies, for the surveillance, for turning our entire

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10:46 Thu, Jul 23

Chapter 244

beautiful love story into a calculated lie born out of a desire for vengeance.

But as the initial blinding rage began to recede, leaving behind a cold, hollow ache, a terrible, conflicting thought began to take root in my

mind.

I tried, desperately and painfully, to look at it from his perspective.

He had lost everything. His first wife. His unborn child. The grief of that five-year-old tragedy must have been an unbearable, suffocating darkness especially for a man operating in a ruthless mafia world where every accident looked like a/ hit.

My father had been a good man, dragged into that dark world by my corrupt uncle, and his car was the one that ultimately caused Brandon’s five years of grief.

Brandon had been bleeding, broken, and hunting for a phantom enemy when he found me. He had lied to me. He had manipulated his way into my life when I was at my most vulnerable. There was no excusing that. It was monstrous.

But as I closed my eyes, remembering the way he had held me through my night terrors, the way he had just knelt on the clinic floor to kiss Amelia’s forehead, and the fierce, unyielding protection he provided, the agonizing truth became clear.

He had come for revenge, but he had stayed for love. And now, trapped in a house guarded by his men, furious at his betrayal but terrified of the dangers lurking outside my gates, I had never felt more entirely alone.

I forced myself up from the bottom step, the heavy silence of the house pressing down on my shoulders as I slowly climbed the stairs. My feet dragged until I reached the hallway, stopping right outside Amelia’s bedroom door.

I leaned my forehead against the cool wood, closing my eyes. From inside, I could hear Sarah’s soft, soothing voice, followed by the jagged, shaky sound of Amelia’s sniffles.

“Is Dad ever coming back, Sarah?” Amelia asked, her voice tiny and raw from crying. “Did Mum chase him away forever?”

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Hearing her use that title while the cruel truth of how Brandon had entered our lives burned in my mind was an excruciating twist of the knife.

I gripped the door frame to keep my knees from buckling, a fresh wave of tears blurring my vision. I wanted to storm in, to hold her, to tell her the truth but how could I explain to a five-year-old that the man she looked up to had originally approached us out of a thirst for blood?

Unable to bear the sound of her heartbreak any longer, I pulled away and walked down the long corridor to my master bedroom. The moment I pushed the door open, his presence hit me like a physical blow.

The faint, masculine scent of his cedarwood cologne still hung in the air, a cruel mockery of the safety I thought I had found in his arms.

I walked into the attached bathroom, and there they were-his wrinkled shirt and jacket from the night before, still tossed onto the marble counter where he had left them before stepping into the shower.

A sudden, blinding surge of grief and rage consumed me.

“Liar,” I choked out, grabbing the tailored jacket and ripping it off the counter. I threw it violently against the tile, followed, by the shirt.

I grabbed a glass tumbler from the vanity and hurled it into the sink, watching it shatter into a hundred glinting pieces. I needed to purge him from this room.

I needed to erase every trace of the monster who had built our entire life on a foundation of deception

But as the adrenaline faded, leaving me empty and hyperventilating, I sark onto the cold bathroom floor, burying my face in my knees. I could throw away his clothes, but couldn’t erase the meinaries. I couldn’t un-love him.

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