Just My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires by Esther Pen novel Chapter 305

My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires

Chapter 305

BRANDON’S POV

The evening sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the city skyline in shades of deep amber and lavender.

I stood in front of the full–length mirror in my dressing room, carefully fastening the silver cufflinks at my wrists. The house was quiet, filled with a peaceful stillness that felt rare after everything we had endured over the past few weeks.

There were no legal emergencies waiting on my desk. No private investigators calling with updates on the Vance family Arthur was broke, Leonie was locked in a cell, and Julian was a powerless ghost hiding somewhere in the dark.

For the first time in a very long time, I could focus entirely on the woman who had transformed my world. A soft knock sounded at the open door, and Marcus stepped into the room.

“The venue is completely cleared and secured, boss,” Marcus said, keeping his voice quiet. The staff has been briefed, the private elevator is reserved, and the perimeter teams are already in position around the block.”

“Good,” I replied, adjusting the lapel of my tailored black suit jacket. “Has Dominic checked in?”

“He verified the routes ten minutes ago,” Marcus confirmed, offering a subtle nod of respect. “The city streets between here and the restaurant are clean. Enjoy your night, Mr. Sterling.”

“Thank you, Marcus.”

“Also,” Marcus added, pausing near the doorway, “Miss Clara is downstairs with Amelia. Everything is completely calm.”

A faint smile touched my face at the mention of the new nanny. After the breach on the estate grounds, I had refused to take a single risk with Amelia’s safety. Clara had been selected through an exhaustive, multi–tier process.

My security firm screened her background three separate times, digging into her family history, financial records, and past employment over a grueling six–week period. Even after she passed every background check with flawless marks, we introduced her slowly.

At first, Amelia had been hesitant, clinging to Aria’s skirt whenever Clara walked into the room. But Clara possessed an endless supply of patience, quiet warmth, and gentle kindness.

It had taken a while, but Amelia finally warmed up to her completely. Now, Clara was like family, and knowing she was watching over our daughter gave both Aria and me complete peace of mind.”

I stepped out into the main hallway just as the doors to Aria’s dressing room opened.

My breath caught in my throat.

Aria stepped into the warm light of the corridor, looking like a dream. She wore a floor–length dress of soft emerald silk that hugged her figure perfectly, flowing smoothly down to the floor.

Her dark hair fell in soft, elegant waves over her shoulders, and a simple diamond pendant, the one I had given her a few days back, rested gently against her collarbone.

She paused when she saw me, a faint, lovely flush rising on her cheeks.

“Do I look alright?” she asked softly, her fingers lightly touching the fabric of her skirt.

I walked over to her slowly, my eyes never leaving her face. When I reached her, I reached out and took her hand, drawing her close until there was no space left between us.

“You are breathtaking, Aria,” I murmured, my voice deep and thick with affection. “You take my breath away every single

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My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires

day.

She smiled, her eyes shining with warmth as she leaned up on her tiptoes to press a tender, fleeting kiss against my cheek. You look handsome yourself, Brandon.”

Downstairs, Amelia was sitting on the plush carpet in the living room with Clara, happily arranging colored blocks into a small tower.

Clara looked up with a warm, respectful smile, while Amelia set her blocks down and scrambled off the floor running over to us the moment she saw us holding hands on the grand staircase.

“Mama looks like a princess,” Amelia declared, her small hands clapping together in delight.

I laughed softly, dropping to one knee in front of her so I was at eye level with my daughter. “She does, doesn’t she?”

“Where are you going, Daddy?” Amelia asked, tilting her head with innocent curiosity.

“Daddy is taking Mama out for a special dinner,” I explained gently, smoothing a stray strand of hair away from her forehead. “You are going to have dinner here with Clara, watch your favorite cartoon, and go to sleep. When you wake up tomorrow morning, we will be right here.”

“Can Clara read the story about the little bear tonight?” Amelia asked, turning her head to look back at the nanny.

“Of course I can, sweetheart,” Clara answered gently, stepping forward with a soft smile. “It’s already sitting on your nightstand.”

“Okay,” Amelia agreed happily, throwing her little arms around my neck for a tight hug before turning to give Aria one as well. “Have fun, Mama. Have fun Daddy.”

“Be good for Clara, sweetie,” Aria reminded her gently, kissing her crown before standing back up.

I took Aria’s hand once more, leading her out through the main entrance where the sleek black sedan was idling quietly on the driveway. The driver held the door open, and we slipped into the warm, leather–scented interior.

The drive into the heart of the financial district was smooth and quiet. Aria rested her head lightly against my shoulder, her fingers intertwined with mine as we watched the city lights flicker past the tinted windows.

There was no tension in her frame, no nervous glance at the side mirrors. She felt completely safe with me, and that knowledge filled my chest with a quiet, fierce pride.

The car came to a stop beneath the grand glass canopy of an exclusive high–rise building overlooking the river. The restaurant on the top floor was one of the most private dining spots in the city, and I had rented out the entire top floor for the night.

We rode the private glass elevator straight to the penthouse level. When the doors opened, the head maitre d‘ bowed respectfully, guiding us through the dimly lit, elegant main dining room out onto a private covered terrace.

The terrace was lit by hundreds of soft, glowing candles and delicate string lights woven through silver ivy along the railings.

In the center sat a single table set with white linen, polished crystal, and fresh white roses. Below us, the city stretched out like a sea of golden lights, the dark river reflecting the moon above.

“Brandon,” Aria whispered, stepping out onto the terrace and looking around in awe. “It is empty. Did you close the whole restaurant?”

“I wanted tonight to be just for us,” I said softly, walking up behind her and placing my hands gently on her waist. “No distractions. No business. No shadows from the past. Just you and me.”

We sat down across from each other, sipping vintage wine as a three–course dinner was served seamlessly by a silent,

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attentive waiter.

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