Just My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires by Esther Pen novel Chapter 298

Chapter 298

JULIAN’S POV

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The iron gates of the Vance estate swept open, allowing the black SUV to roll quietly down the long, tree–lined driveway.

The heavy rain had turned into a thick, low mist that blanketed the manicured lawns. As soon as the vehicle glided to a stop beneath the grand stone portico, my father opened his door and stepped out without waiting for the driver. He didn’t look back to see if I was following him.

I climbed out slowly, my wet, mud–stained shoes dragging against the polished marble steps of the front entrance. My clothes smelled of damp earth and the stale, metallic air of the holding cell.

The moment the massive double front doors swung open, my mother rushed across the grand foyer.

“Julian,” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as her eyes took in my disheveled appearance. She hurried forward, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pulling me into a tight, desperate embrace. “My poor boy. Look at what they’ve done to you.”

She pulled back, her hands trembling as she touched my bruised jaw and smoothed down my messy hair. Her eyes were red–rimmed, her face pale with distress.

“Look at your clothes, Julian,” she cried softly, her voice full of bitter sorrow. “They treated you like a common street criminal. It’s that woman. I know it is.”

I stood frozen in the center of the warm, brightly lit foyer, my chest tightening. “Mother-”

“It’s Aria,” Eleanor said, her voice turning sharp and venomous as she looked up at me. “She did this to you. She has been manipulating you from the very beginning. She lured you into that house, Julian. She set a trap with Brandon Sterling just to destroy your reputation and humiliate our entire family.”

Her words hit me like a splash of ice water. The air in my lungs felt thin, cold, and razor–sharp.

“Don’t speak about her like that,” I said, my voice rising as a sudden, uncontrollable surge of dark panic rushed through my veins.

“Julian, open your eyes,” my mother pleaded, her hands clutching the lapels of my dirty jacket. “She used you. She used your love for that child to drag you into the mud. She wants to see you ruined.”

“Shut up,” I snapped, pulling away from her touch so hard she stumbled back a step. “Just shut up. You don’t know anything about her.”

“Julian,” she gasped, staring at me in complete shock.

“Aria loves me,” I shouted, my vision blurring as the madness and exhaustion in my head completely took over. My hands shook violently at my sides as I paced across the marble floor. “She didn’t set a trap. Brandon forced her to say those things. He forced her to stay in that house. I saw her eyes, Mother. She was terrified. She was waiting for me to save her.”

“He has completely lost his mind, Arthur,” Eleanor whispered, turning toward my father with tears streaming

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My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires

down her face. “Listen to him. He’s delusional.”

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“She is my wife,” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice echoing off the high arched ceilings of the mansion. “She belongs to me. Brandon took everything from me, but he cannot have her. She is innocent. She is waiting for me to bring her home.”

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room.

My father had been standing near the bottom of the grand staircase, slowly removing his leather gloves. At my last word, he stopped. He turned slowly, his face completely drained of color, his dark eyes burning with a cold, terrifying fury that I had never seen before in my entire life.

He walked across the foyer, his heavy leather shoes clicking against the stone floor with slow, deliberate precision.

“Father-” I started, stepping toward him.

Before I could finish the sentence, my father’s right hand swung through the air with brutal, terrifying speed.

Crack.

The palm of his hand struck my cheek with the force of a thunderclap.

The impact snapped my head violently to the side. My legs gave out instantly, and I crashed onto the hard marble floor, sliding back against the base of the grand display table. A sharp, metallic taste filled my mouth as my lip split against my teeth. The right side of my face burned as if it had been pressed against a red–hot iron.

My mother let out a loud scream, pressing her hands over her mouth, but she didn’t step forward to help me.

I lay on the floor, my vision swimming, pressing my fingers against my bleeding lip. I looked up in complete, frozen shock. My father had never raised a hand against me. Not once.

Arthur stood towering over me, his chest heaving slightly, his hand still suspended in the air. He looked down at me not as a father looking at his son, but as a man looking at a disgusting insect he wanted to crush beneath

his boot.

“You pathetic, worthless fool,” Arthur said, his voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper that shook the entire room. “You stand in my house, smelling like a sewer, and you dare scream like a lunatic over a woman who wouldn’t even step over your corpse in the street.”

“Father…” I choked out, a line of blood trailing down my chin.

“Silence,” Arthur roared, stepping closer until the tip of his polished leather shoe was inches from my face. “Do not speak another word. You have destroyed your career. You have dragged the Vance name through every news network in this country. You let Brandon Sterling put a collar around your neck and drag you through the mud, and you still sit there babbling about love.”

He leaned down, his dark eyes staring directly into mine with pure, unadulterated venom.

“Listen to me very carefully, Julian,” Arthur said, every single word laced with ice. “You are under house arrest.

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