“Don’t look so surprised,” Kyler says. “I’ve seen you on the ice at Predators games and the other night when you played the Tigers. I’ll admit, I was disappointed when you left early, but my daughter informed me of the reason. I do hope your wife is doing well.”
“She’s better,” I say, expelling a heavy breath, relieved that Harper and the baby are both healthy.
“That’s good to hear,” Kyler says, and he genuinely seems concerned and pleased at the news. “Off the record, I do need to know if your father, Dante Ricci, will be an issue if you’re drafted.” His dark stare feels icy as he awaits my answer.
My jaw tightens as I stare at Kyler. My gaze flinches slightly as I can’t help but wonder what Bristol told him of us. How much does he know?
The silence between us feels heavy, like a dark cloud about ready to rain down on the space between us.
Kyler clears his throat. “Emerson works for Eagle Tactical,” he says, as if that clarifies his question.
When I don’t say anything, merely size him up, he continues talking, as though he’s trying to explain himself. Does he fear me, or is it my father he’s afraid of?
“My wife knows what really happened in Vegas.”
A heavy breath leaves my lips and I sigh. I suppose he knows as well. No one seems good at keeping secrets these days. “I hope you can use discretion,” I say, not wanting it to sound like a threat but also realizing the capacity of what happened, the danger that lurks in spelling it out for anyone who might cause more harm to our family and friends.
“How do you think you flew out and back to Vegas?” Kyler asks.
I’m silent, considering his question. I had assumed Dante had owned the plane, but it’s not as though we ever took any private flights anywhere. Dante wasn’t one to leave home very often, his job always keeping him nearby and busy.
“We appreciate the use of your private plane,” I say, the gratefulness far more formal. I can’t help but wonder what he’s getting at. Why tell me these things? What does he hope to achieve?
“I’m not looking for thanks, Luca. I’m just making you aware, I know who your father is. I know what he expects of you as his only heir.”
I inhale sharply and bite down on my tongue to keep from saying something regrettable.
Kyler Greyson doesn’t know all of it. He doesn’t know about the danger posed to my family, about Harper being forced to work for Dante after protecting Zeke and Nova when a man broke into our home to take our son.
My silence stretches on, and Kyler continues speaking, calmly, clearly, making his point heard.
“I would expect if you were drafted that you would leave the business dealings aside while you play hockey. We can’t afford to lose an integral part of our team. I would also need reassurance that your alliance would be to the team. No gambling or throwing games, nothing sinister happening in order to appease Dante or any of his men.”
I stare into Kyler’s dark gaze. “I assure you, sir, that my loyalty, if I were drafted, would be to the team. I’ve never cheated and wouldn’t start now. My father understands that hockey is my lifeblood. And while I might be his only heir, he has come to accept that if I’m drafted, I will choose that over him.”
I leave out the part where I’ve promised to work for Dante after my career is over and then my wife is tied to the business. If I’m drafted, then she’ll be working for my father. My stomach does little flip-flops at that thought, but there’s still time to renegotiate that deal with my father.
Kyler’s nostrils flare as he inhales sharply and nods. “Understand, Luca, that I don’t wish to get on Dante’s bad side.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You and me both. But you don’t have to worry, I know how to handle my father. Just give me a few days to let him know, talk to him, before any press releases are made about my name entering the draft, please.”
Thirty-Three
Bristol
I can’t believe my father showed up at Liam’s house. My blood bubbles and I’m seeing red. But it’s not because he invited us to dinner for the holidays, including Liam, it’s the fact he’s offering my boyfriend’s roommate and teammate entry into the draft.
“What’s wrong?” Liam asks, tugging my hand and pulling me back into the bedroom where we were so rudely interrupted.
We’d been cuddling, half-naked, teasing each other when we’d heard Luca shouting across the house for us.
Liam shuts the bedroom door, his back to it, raising an eyebrow at me. “What’s going through your head, Firebreather?”
My eyes narrow and I grab a pillow from the mattress, flinging it at him.
He snorts and dodges it, letting it fall to the floor. “You missed.”
That cocky grin stares back at me as he waits for me to say something.
