The Hockey Roommate's Filthy Desire novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87

Chapter 87

ARIA’S POV

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The weight of everything I had just learned did not settle immediately. It didn’t come all at once like a sudden

storm.

Instead, it crept in slowly, tightening around my chest, pressing against my thoughts until I could barely separate one feeling from another.

I stood there, still clutching the document, my mind replaying Brandon’s words over and over again.

It didn’t feel real.

Brandon watched me in silence for a moment, his gaze steady, observant, like he was trying to measure how much I could take before breaking.

Then, without warning, he spoke. “Why didn’t you fight for it?”

The question caught me off guard. I blinked, my brows drawing together slightly as I looked at him. “What?”

“Your father’s company,” he clarified calmly. “Why didn’t you fight for it when he died?”

For a second, I didn’t answer. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t even know where to start.

“How could I?” I asked quietly, my voice softer than I intended. “I was still in school. I didn’t understand any of it. Legal documents, shares, ownership, it all sounded like a different language to me.”

I swallowed, my grip tightening slightly on the paper.

“And I didn’t have anyone,” I continued. “No one to guide me. No one to stand with me. like everything was already decided, like there was nothing I could do.”

My chest tightened as the memory resurfaced.

“And maybe there was,” I admitted. “But I didn’t have the power to find out.”

They made it sound

Silence followed my words. For once, Brandon didn’t interrupt. He didn’t correct me. He didn’t analyze.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. The words were simple. Quiet. But they carried a weight I didn’t expect.

I looked at him, slightly surprised. “You don’t have to be.”

“I know,” he replied. “But I am.”

For a brief moment, something softened between us. But it didn’t last. Because there were still too many questions, too many loose ends twisting in my mind.

I exhaled slowly. “What about you?” I asked, my gaze sharpening slightly. “What do you stand to gain from this project?”

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Chapter 87

Brandon didn’t hesitate this time.

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“It wasn’t originally mine,” he said. “My father took interest in it before he passed. He instructed me to keep tabs on it. Quietly.”

My brows furrowed. “So you’ve known about this for a while?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I pressed.

His gaze held mine. “At the time, I didn’t know who you were.”

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten again. “I didn’t believe you were his daughter,” he added.

That stung more than I expected. But before I could respond, he continued.

“If what you’re saying is true,” he said, his tone turning colder, sharper, “then the Vances and the Morettis are not just taking advantage of a loophole.”

My heart began to pound again. “They’re deliberately exploiting it.” A chill ran down my spine. “Your father’s shares,” he continued, his eyes locking onto mine, “belong to you.”

My breath caught.

“And they’re trying to take that from you.”

That was it. That was the moment everything broke.

I didn’t realize when the tears started falling. I didn’t feel them at first. I didn’t notice the way my vision blurred or the way my chest tightened until it became impossible to breathe.

“How could he…” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Brandon frowned slightly. “He?” But I shook my head, unable to explain. Because how could I even begin to put it into words?

How could I explain that the man I had loved… the man who had looked me in the eyes and promised me everything was part of this?

That while I was struggling, while I was begging for scraps, for dignity, for love, he had been sitting on something that belonged to me?

My father’s legacy. My future. “How could he do this to me…” I whispered again, my voice breaking completely this time.

The tears came harder now. Faster. Uncontrollable. I didn’t try to stop them. I couldn’t.

Because this wasn’t just about betrayal. It wasn’t just about love.

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Chapter 87

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It was about everything I had lost. Everything that had been taken from me. And everything I had been too weak to fight for.

Brandon didn’t speak. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t try to interrupt. Instead, he stepped closer.

And before I could even react, his arms wrapped around me.

I froze for a second. Because this…this wasn’t something I expected from him.

But then the warmth of his chest, the steadiness of his hold, the quiet way he let me fall apart without saying a word, it broke something else inside me.

And I leaned into him.

My fingers clutched weakly at him as I cried, my tears soaking into his bare skin, my body shaking with everything I had been holding in for far too long.

He didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. He just held me firmly like he was anchoring me in place. And at some point, I felt my strength give out.

My legs weakened, my body growing heavier with exhaustion, both physical and emotional. Before I could collapse, he caught me again.

This time more gently. He lifted me without effort and carried me to the bed. The moment my body touched the mattress, everything went dark.

Sleep claimed me instantly.

The next morning felt different. For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. But then the events of the night before came rushing back.

I sat up slowly, my body still heavy, my head clearer than it had been in days. That was when I noticed it.

A cup of tea sitting neatly on the bedside table, steam still rising from it.

And across the room, Brandon sat on the couch, his attention fixed on his laptop, his posture as composed as

ever.

Like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t broken down in his arms the night before. I watched him for a moment before speaking.

“You made tea?”

He glanced up briefly. “Yes.”

I reached for it slowly, my fingers wrapping around the warm cup.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

He closed his laptop and stood, walking over to me. “I didn’t intend to overwhelm you last night,” he said. “If I did, I apologize.”

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