Just My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires by Esther Pen novel Chapter 280

12:00 Wed, Aug 12

My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires

Chapter 280

JULIAN’S POV

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The glare of the television lights in the arena press room felt like a thousand burning needles pressing into

my eyes.

I sat at the microphone on the raised wooden dais, wearing a tailored navy suit and a sharp silk tie. Beside me, our head coach was answering a sports writer’s question about our three-game winning streak.

I kept my posture straight, my shoulders square, and a pleasant, confident smile fixed onto my face.

“Julian,” a reporter from the local sports daily called out, raising his hand. “You had another two-point night on Wednesday, and the team seems to be clicking under your leadership alongside Seb. How are you holding up with all the ongoing media attention off the ice?”

I leaned toward the microphone, letting out an easy, low laugh that sounded completely relaxed.

“I’ve always believed in keeping the noise outside the rink, Dave,” I said smoothly into the mic, my voice steady and crisp.

“When I step on the ice, it’s about the team, the fans, and winning hockey games. Everything else is just background noise.”

“A true leader,” the reporter nodded, typing fast on his laptop. I kept the smile on my face until the press conference wrapped up ten minutes later.

The second I stepped out of the media room and turned down the private hallway toward the players’ garage, the smile vanished instantly.

I shoved my hands into my suit pockets, my teeth grinding together until my jaw throbbed. It had been two days since the meeting at the Grand Regency Hotel.

Two days since Aria looked me in the eye, told me Amelia called Brandon Daddy, and walked out of my life without looking back. Two days of sitting in my quiet, empty apartment, staring at the walls, watching the clock tick while my entire world burned down around me.

My hockey career was spotless. The press praised me. The fans cheered my name. But none of it mattered. None of it filled the black hole opening up in my chest.

I pulled my phone out as I reached my sports car in the dark underground parking structure. I tapped out a message to the encrypted contact number I had been texting all week.

Why haven’t you leaked the financial files to the press yet? I paid you to make noise.

I got into the driver’s seat, pulled the door shut, and waited in the quiet gloom. A minute later, the screen lit up with an incoming call from an unlisted number.

I snapped the phone to my ear. “Viktor? What the hell is taking so long?”

“Listen to me very carefully, Vance,” Viktor’s rough, heavily accented voice rasped through the speaker. He

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My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires

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didn’t sound like the confident, greedy fixer I had spoken to days ago. He sounded tense. On edge. “You need to pull back.”

My grip on the leather steering wheel tightened until my knuckles turned white. “What are you talking about? I paid you fifty grand up front to drop those offshore holding documents to the major business blogs. You said you had enough to create a media circus.”

“I had documents,” Viktor hissed back, coughing harshly into the line. “Until two hours ago. My primary server got wiped from the inside out, Vance. Cleaned out. Every file, every backup, every mirror account I had stored in Europe, poof. Gone.”

A cold, heavy rock dropped straight into my stomach. “How?”

“Who do you think?” Viktor spat bitterly. “Brandon’s private security division isn’t a bunch of retired cops, you idiot. They have high-level corporate intelligence operators. They didn’t just wipe my drives. They sent a legal notice to my front desk that laid out every single illegal transaction I’ve made in the last four years. If I publish one single line about Sterling, I will go to federal prison for a decade.”

“No,” I growled, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs. “No. You promised me you had back-channel leaks that couldn’t be traced to me!”

“The game is over, Vance,” Viktor snapped sharply. “Keep your money, keep your clean hockey image, and stay the fuck away from Brandon. He owns the board, and he knows you were the one who hired me.”

“He can’t prove-”

“He doesn’t need to prove it in court, you fool,” Viktor cut in, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper. “And that’s not even the worst part.”

I froze in the dark car, my breath hitching in my throat. “What are you talking about?”

“When my technician was trying to trace the breach on our secondary network yesterday, he found a second ghost lurking in the system,” Viktor said slowly.

“Someone else was tracking your inquiries about Brandon. Someone using a proxy network bouncing out of Eastern Europe.”

My stomach churned sickeningly. “Leonie…”

“I don’t know who the hell it is, and I don’t care,” Viktor grunted. “All I know is you’re playing with fire, athlete. Lose my number. Don’t call me again.”

The line went dead with a loud click.

I sat motionless in the dark, the phone still pressed against my ear, listening to the heavy silence of the parking garage. The air inside the car felt suffocatingly thick.

Brandon had neutralized the dirt before Viktor could even draft a press release. He had wiped the servers, shut down the fixer, and put a legal leash around Viktor’s neck without making a single public wave.

My leverage, my one big weapon to show Aria that her savior was dirty, had vanished like smoke in the wind.

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