Just My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires by Esther Pen novel Chapter 293

10:46 Sat, Aug 22

My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires

Chapter 293

JULIAN’S POV

The concrete tunnel was pitch-black and reeked of damp mold, stagnant water, and rust.

My breath came in ragged, shallow gasps as I crouched low, shuffling forward through the narrow space. The freezing rain had dripped down from the metal hatch above, soaking my cheap caterer’s uniform through to the skin.

My shoes slipped on the slick concrete floor, but I kept moving, pushing past thick cobwebs and old, rusted utility pipe running along the low ceiling. Every step deeper into the dark felt like stepping into the graveyard of my own life.

Suddenly, a phantom memory hit me, sharp, vivid, and completely unbidden.

Five years ago. Late December.

I had used my private key to open the franchise ice rink at two in the morning, taking Aria there after a long, exhausting game. The arena had been pitch-black except for the single, soft yellow spotlight shining down on the center ice.

She had been wearing an oversized white knit sweater and a pale blue scarf, looking up at the high rafters with wide, amazed eyes. She didn’t know how to skate, she was so clumsy, her knees wobbling the second her blades touched the slick ice.

I remembered laughing, a real, genuine sound, as I skated backward in front of her, holding both of her small, warm hands

in mine.

“I’ve got you, Aria,” I had whispered back then, pulling her gently against my chest when she lost her balance. “I won’t let you fall.”

She had looked up at me, her cheeks rosy from the cold, resting her chin against my jacket. “You always say that, Julian. What if I pull you down with me?”

“Then we fall together,” I had answered, kissing her forehead under the quiet stadium lights. A harsh sob caught in my throat right there in the pitch-black tunnel.

I stopped moving, pressing my forehead against the cold, damp concrete wall. How had we ended up here? How had a love like that turned into court dates, restraining orders, and security guards?

Leonie’s toxic words had been ringing in my head for days, feeding my rage, telling me Aria hated me, telling me she was a traitor. But in the suffocating quiet of this pipe, the truth hit me with terrifying clarity.

I didn’t hate Aria. God help me, I didn’t hate her at all.

She wasn’t Leonie’s enemy, and she wasn’t Brandon Sterling’s trophy. She was my woman. She had always been my woman.

I remembered the last time she had stood in front of me before the lawyers took over-the way her voice had trembled when she finally broke up with me: “We are done, Julian. You were a fool to let what you saw in the media all those years ago blind you to what was right in front of your face.”

She was right. I had been a fool. I had let news headlines, fake rumors, and my own out-of-control paranoia poison my mind. I had pushed her away when she needed me most, and Brandon Sterling had simply stepped into the space I was stupid enough to leave empty.

“She’s just confused,” I whispered to myself into the dark, my voice echoing faintly against the wet concrete. “She’s doing this to protect Amelia. She thinks Brandon is safe because he has power.”

A strange, delusional warmth washed over my chest, burning away the cold rain and the fear.

Brandon hadn’t won. He was just a temporary distraction, a shadow standing between me and my family. Once I got inside

10:46

t, Aug

My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires

that house, once Aris saw that I was willing to crawl through the dirt and risk everything just to reach her and Ameita, he would understand. She would see that I was ready to fix my mistakes.

We will leave this city tonight. I would take Aria and Amelia away to another country, far away from Brandon far away from the press and the cameras. We would get married again. We would build a quiet house by the ocean, and we would be happy. Just the three of us. Like it was always supposed to be.

“I’m coming, Aria,” I murmured, my eyes narrowing in the darkness as the madness took full hold of my mind. “I’m coming to take you home.”

I pushed forward with renewed strength, ignoring the scraping against my knees until my hands slammed against a flat wooden panel at the end of the tunnel.

I stopped, holding my breath. I pressed my ear against the damp wood, listening intently.

Nothing. No voices, no footfalls, just the faint, quiet hum of an industrial refrigerator on the other side.

I reached down to my belt, my fingers wrapping around the cold metal canister of pepper spray in my pocket, not to hurt Aria, but to make sure no one stopped me from saving my family. Then, I found the small iron latch on the wooden hatch door. I lifted it slowly, easing the panel open inch by inch.

Light spilled into the dusty tunnel.

I peeked through the small crack. I was looking into the lower service kitchen of Aria’s estate, a massive, gleaming commercial room filled with stainless steel counters, industrial ovens, and hanging copper pans.

The room was completely empty. The caterers were all outside on the lawn, completely distracted by the party and the sudden chaos near the north fence.

I shoved the hatch open, dragging myself out of the narrow tunnel hole and stepping onto the cold tile floor. I pulled the black cap down low over my forehead and adjusted the clear glasses on my face.

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