Shared by the Three Captains

Cassy

I adjusted my thick, round tortoiseshell glasses and pulled the edges of my oversized hoodie tight around my body. My heart was beating so fast against my ribs I thought it might burst right out of my chest. Today was the day. Two whole years. Two years of supporting him, writing his game notes, sitting in the back row of every single practice, and keeping his secrets.

The energy inside Stanford Arena was deafening. Thousands of students and sports fans packed the bleachers, cheering and screaming as the bright stadium lights washed over the cold floor. The air smelled like stale popcorn and ice. I smoothed down my baggy jeans and wiped my sweaty palms on my scuffed sneakers. My long, dark chestnut hair was pulled back into its usual high, messy ponytail, swinging against my neck as I pushed my way closer to the front entrance near the team tunnel.

"He's going to love this," I whispered to myself, clutching the small velvet box tucked safely in my hoodie pocket. It was a customized watch band I had saved up three months of my student budget to buy for him.

I wanted tonight to be perfect. Hendrix had been so stressed lately about his ice time and his spot on the roster. His training had slipped, and I knew he was feeling the pressure. But tonight was our night. He told me to come early. He told me he had a massive surprise planned during the mid-rally team announcements.

"This is it, Cassy," I muttered under my breath, my hazel eyes scanning the crowd. "He's finally going to make us official in front of everyone."

Suddenly, the stadium lights flickered and dimmed, sending a massive roar through the bleachers. The spotlight swung toward the center of the floor.

Coach Jimenez stepped up to the podium near the center circle, his battered clipboard clutched tightly in one hand and his signature whistle hanging around his neck. His grey hair was combed over his head, and his thick mustache bristled as he raised his hand for silence. His weathered face was set in a firm scowl, but his sharp blue eyes scanned the arena with strict authority.

"Alright, listen up!" Coach Jimenez's voice boomed over the arena loudspeakers, heavy and gruff. "Settle down, everyone! Before we start the official team roster announcements for the upcoming season, one of our players asked for two minutes on the microphone for a personal announcement. Give it up for Hendrix Sevilla!"

The crowd erupted into wild cheering. My heart did a crazy flip in my chest.

Hendrix stepped into the bright circle of light, holding a cordless microphone. He looked impossibly handsome with his blond-streaked hair styled in a sharp undercut. His light grey eyes scanned the crowd, full of arrogance and easy confidence. He flashed his signature fake smile for the cameras, his golden tan glowing under the harsh stadium lights. He wore a flashy designer tracksuit, and the heavy gold watch on his wrist caught the glare of the spotlights.

"What's up, Stanford Arena!" Hendrix shouted into the mic, his voice echoing off the concrete walls.

The crowd roared back in response.

"I know you guys are excited for the new season," Hendrix continued, grinning wider as he raised a hand to quiet them down. "But tonight, before we hit the ice, I need to take care of something far more important. Tonight is about my future. Tonight is about love."

My throat went completely dry. A soft, breathless gasp escaped my lips. 'Oh my god,' I thought. 'He's really doing it. He's actually going to tell everyone about us.'

"For the past two years, somebody very special has been by my side," Hendrix said, his voice lowering into a deep, romantic tone that made the girls in the front row squeal. "Somebody who completely changed my life. Somebody who deserves the entire world."

I took a step forward, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my sweater. My eyes welled up with happy tears behind my thick glasses.

"Portia Mineses," Hendrix called out, turning toward the tunnel entrance. "Will you please join me out here?"

My whole body went completely rigid. The air was sucked directly out of my lungs.

Portia?

I watched in absolute horror as Portia Felize Mineses stepped into the spotlight. She walked like a runway model, her slim figure wrapped in an insanely expensive designer dress. Her long, platinum blonde hair hung down her back in perfect, silky waves, blowing gently from the arena fans. Her porcelain skin looked flawless, and her cold blue eyes sparkled with triumph under the bright lights. She carried a Chanel bag on her forearm, her sharp red lips curved into a dazzling, flawless smile.

"What..." I choked out, the word dying in my throat. "W-What is he doing?"

Portia glided onto the floor toward Hendrix, her high heels clicking loudly against the polished floor. The entire crowd was cheering and screaming.

Hendrix looked at her like she was the only person in the universe. He took her soft, manicured hand in his.

"Portia, you are the most incredible, beautiful woman I have ever known," Hendrix spoke into the microphone, his voice echoing across the thousands of silent spectators. "I can't imagine my life without you."

Then, right in front of the entire university, right in front of thousands of screaming fans and national media cameras, Hendrix dropped down onto one knee.

He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and flipped it open. Inside sat a massive, sparkling diamond ring-his family's legendary heirloom ring.

"Portia Felize Mineses," Hendrix said, his light grey eyes staring up at her with complete adoration. "Will you make me the happiest man alive? Will you marry me?"

Portia gasped dramatically, bringing both of her manicured hands to her mouth. Her cold blue eyes widened with fake surprise.

"Oh my god! Yes! Yes, Hendrix, a thousand times yes!" Portia squealed into the microphone.

The arena erupted into an absolute explosion of noise. Thunderous applause and deafening cheers rattled the metal rafters. Hendrix stood up, wrapped his arms around Portia's waist, and lifted her into the air, kissing her deeply as the crowd went wild.

My vision went completely blurry. My knees buckled, and I had to grab the railing to keep myself from collapsing onto the concrete floor.

Two years.

Two years of cooking his meals. Two years of breaking down game film for him until three in the morning. Two years of sleeping in his bed, keeping our relationship a secret because he claimed his agent said a private life was better for his hockey career.

It was all a lie. Every single word out of his mouth was a fucking lie.

"No," I whispered. My voice was shaking, full of raw, bleeding pain. "No, this isn't happening. This can't be happening."

Before my brain could stop my body, I shoved my hands into my hoodie pockets and walked out onto the arena floor.

I didn't care that thousands of people were watching. I didn't care that the spotlights were burning into my eyes. I just needed him to look at me. I needed him to tell me to my face what kind of sick joke this was.

"Hendrix!" I shouted.

My voice was small, but in the brief lull of the cheering, it echoed enough for him to hear.

Hendrix pulled away from Portia's lips, his eyebrows pulling together in immediate annoyance. He turned toward me, his light grey eyes narrowing as if he were looking at a piece of trash stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"Hendrix, what is this?" I demanded, stopping a few feet away from them. Tears were streaming down my face now, burning my cheeks behind my round glasses. My dark chestnut ponytail shook with every ragged breath I took. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Hendrix immediately turned off his microphone switch, stepping in front of Portia. "Cassy? What the hell are you doing out here? Get off the floor right now."

"Get off the floor?" I asked, my voice cracking wildly. "Today is our two-year anniversary! You told me to come here tonight! You told me you had a surprise for me!"

"Are you out of your mind?" Hendrix spat, his voice low and dangerous as he stepped closer to me. "Shut your mouth and walk away before you embarrass yourself even more."

"Embarrass myself?" I let out a harsh, broken laugh, wiping my eyes with the back of my oversized sweater sleeve. "You're standing here proposing to her with your family ring! The ring you told me last week you were going to give to me!"

Portia's sharp red lips twisted into a cruel, momentary smirk before her entire expression instantly transformed. Her cold blue eyes filled with sudden, dramatic tears. She let out a small, terrified whimpering gasp and took two fast steps backward.

"Hendrix, help me!" Portia cried out, her voice loud enough for the entire front row to hear. She threw herself backward onto the floor, dramatic tears streaming down her perfect porcelain face. "She's trying to attack me! She pushed me!"

I stared at her in absolute shock, my hands frozen in the air. "What? I didn't even fucking touch you!"

"Please don't hurt me!" Portia whimpered, pulling her knees up to her chest and weeping like a helpless child. "Hendrix, she's crazy! She told me she was going to ruin my life if I stayed with you!"

"You lying snake!" I yelled at Portia, stepping forward. "I haven't said a single word to you!"

"Stay the fuck back from her!" Hendrix roared.

He violently shoved me away, his hands slamming against my chest. I stumbled back onto my scuffed sneakers, barely keeping my balance.

Hendrix quickly switched his microphone back on, his face contorted in pure disgust as he looked down at me. His voice boomed through the entire stadium, reaching every single corner of Stanford Arena.

"Look at you, Cassy! You're pathetic!" Hendrix shouted into the mic, making sure all thousands of spectators heard every cruel word. "I tried to be nice to you! I took pity on you because you were always creeping around the locker rooms like a lonely loser! But this is ridiculous!"

"Hendrix, please..." I gasped, my chest heaving as tears blinded me. "How can you say that?"

"We were never together!" Hendrix sneered, his handsome face ugly with arrogance and spite. "You're nothing but a desperate, obsessed, jealous ex-girlfriend who can't take a hint! You've been stalking me for months, and now you come out here and push my fiancee? You're fucking crazy!"

The crowd gasped loudly. Murmurs and angry whispers began spreading through the bleachers like wildfire. I could see hundreds of bright phone screens lifted in the air, cameras pointing directly at my face, recording every second of my public execution.

"She's crazy!" someone shouted from the bleachers.

"Get her off the ice!" another voice yelled.

"Look at her, she looks like a freak!"

My whole world collapsed around me. My heart was torn completely out of my chest and stomped on in front of the entire university. I looked at Hendrix-the boy I had given two years of my life to, the boy I had loved with every fiber of my being-and I saw nothing but pure, calculating cruelty in his eyes.

He smiled a small, vicious smile, proud of himself for throwing me to the wolves to make himself look like a hero protecting his beautiful socialite bride.

"Get out of my sight, Cassy," Hendrix sneered into the microphone, pointing toward the exit. "You're nothing to me. You never were."

Something inside me snapped.

The timid, soft girl who always stayed quiet, the girl who hid under baggy sweaters and let people walk all over her, completely shattered into dust.

In two fast steps, I closed the distance between us. Before Hendrix could even react or pull away, I threw my entire body weight into my right arm and brought my open hand flying across his face.

A sharp crack echoed across the silent floor as my palm connected hard with his jawline.

Hendrix's head snapped violently to the side. The microphone flew out of his hand, tumbling onto the hard surface with a dull thud. His golden-tanned cheek instantly turned bright, ugly red where my fingers struck him.

The entire arena went dead silent. Thousands of people gasped at the exact same time.

Hendrix stumbled back, clutching his face in sheer disbelief. His light grey eyes were wide with shock, his mouth hanging open as he stared at me.

"Don't you ever fucking talk to me again," I spat, my voice lethal and steady despite the hot tears burning my cheeks.

Portia let out another fake, dramatic scream, scrambling to Hendrix's side. "Oh my god! Hendrix! Are you okay?"

I didn't wait to hear his answer. I turned around and ran.

I sprinted past the shocked security guards, past the tunnel entrance, and straight through the dark hallways of Stanford Arena. My breath came in ragged, painful gasps. My chest burned like it was on fire. I didn't care where I was going; I just needed to run until my legs gave out.

I burst through the heavy glass exit doors, leaving the roaring arena behind me.

The moment I stepped outside, a wall of freezing cold water slammed into my body. A torrential downpour was hammering the campus, severe lightning flashing violently across the pitch-black sky and heavy thunder shaking the pavement beneath my feet.

I didn't have my jacket. The freezing rain soaked through my oversized hoodie in seconds, heavy and icy against my skin. Rain poured down my face, washing away my tears and plastering my long chestnut hair to my back. My thick tortoiseshell glasses instantly covered in droplets, blurring my vision completely.

I stumbled down the slick concrete stairs, wiping my eyes with my soaked sleeve.

Every step I took felt like walking through a nightmare. My phone in my hoodie pocket started buzzing relentlessly. Vibration after vibration. Notification after notification.

I pulled the wet phone out with shaking, numb fingers.

My screen was completely flooded with notifications. Social media apps were exploding. Campus group chats were going crazy. Videos of me hitting Hendrix were already trending at the very top of the university feed.

WATCH: Crazy stalker Cassy Del Fierro attacks Hendrix Sevilla at the Stanford Arena proposal!

'Jealous ex-girlfriend snaps on live arena cameras!'

'Portia Mineses assaulted on stage by desperate fan!'

The video had tens of thousands of views already, growing bigger by the second. Comments were pouring in, calling me insane, a freak, a pathetic loser, telling me to hide my face and leave the school forever.

I dropped my phone into the wet grass. I couldn't breathe. The heavy freezing rain kept falling, soaking me to the bone, but nothing could cool the burning, agonizing humiliation raging inside my soul.

I sank down onto my knees in the middle of the blinding thunderstorm, trembling in the dark as my whole life crumbled around me.

Cassy

The freezing rain hit my face like hundreds of tiny, sharp needles. My thick, round tortoiseshell glasses were completely plastered with water drops, blurring the dark world around me into a wet mess of yellow streetlights and shadows. My dark chestnut hair was soaked to the root, clinging to the back of my oversized hoodie like a heavy, icy rope.

"Get back here, Cassy!" a guy yelled from somewhere behind me near the stadium exit doors.

"Is that her? Did she really slap Hendrix on live camera?" a girl shouted, her voice shrill and full of malicious excitement.

Flashbulbs popped in the dark. Dozens of students were running out of the arena doors with their phones held high in the air, trying to get a clear video of my ruined, sobbing face. The intense humiliation burned hotter in my chest than the freezing downpour soaking through my clothes.

I ducked my head down low and ran faster, my scuffed sneakers slapping loudly against the wet concrete pavement. My heart was pounding like a sledgehammer against my ribs, making my chest ache with every single step. I couldn't go back to my dorm. I couldn't face anyone. I just needed to hide. I needed to vanish off the face of the earth.

I turned a sharp corner, cutting straight through a heavy metal gate that led directly into the VIP athletic parking lot. It was private, fenced off, and strictly reserved for the university's star players and coaching staff. It was dark, quiet, and away from the main campus sidewalks.

"Please, just let me get away," I sobbed under my breath, my voice shaking so hard my teeth clattered together. "Please, god."

My lungs burned for air as I stumbled through the rows of luxury cars. I couldn't see clearly. The rain was pouring down in thick sheets, blinding me completely.

Right in front of me, parked near the dark edge of the fenced lot, sat a massive, intimidating SUV. It was a sleek, matte black Maybach, completely blacked out from top to bottom. It looked like a giant shadow sitting in the dark storm.

I didn't care whose car it was. I just needed to duck out of the line of sight before those students turned the corner with their glowing phone screens.

I sprinted straight for the passenger side of the Maybach. Blinded by the rain and my own burning tears, I reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed the heavy front door handle. My fingers were slick with water and cold sweat, making me slip the first time. I grabbed it again, pulling with all the desperate strength left in my small frame.

As I pulled, the cheap, sharp metal ring on my finger-the simple band I had worn every day for two years-slammed hard against the custom door panel right next to the handle.

A sharp, hideous screeching sound tore through the thunderous noise of the rain.

My stomach dropped straight into my shoes.

The metal ring dragged violently across the pristine matte black paint, carving a deep, ragged white scratch straight through the luxury custom finish.

"Fuck!" I choked out, horror freezing the blood in my veins. "No, no, no!"

Panic surged through me like an electric shock. I heard shouting near the gate of the VIP lot. The students were getting closer.

Without thinking, I yanked the heavy front passenger door open and threw my soaking wet body inside the cabin, slamming the door shut behind me to block out the world.

The sudden silence inside the vehicle was deafening. The roar of the torrential thunderstorm was instantly muffled by the heavy, soundproof glass windows. The air inside smelled rich, warm, and distinctly masculine-a sharp mixture of expensive leather, dark cedarwood, and fresh rain.

I sank deep into the soft leather seat, pulling my wet knees up against my chest as my whole body shivered violently.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," I whimpered, pulling off my thick tortoiseshell glasses with shaking fingers to wipe the rain off on my damp sweater sleeve. "What did I just do? What the fuck did I just do?"

"Who the fuck are you?" a deep, dangerous voice growled from the darkness beside me.

I froze completely. My breath hitched in my throat, locking up in my chest.

I slowly turned my head to the left, my hazel eyes widening in absolute terror.

Sitting in the driver's seat was a towering, massive man. He was built like an absolute fortress. His broad shoulders and thick chest completely filled out the front seat of the SUV, making the huge vehicle look small around him. He sat like a giant carved out of solid stone, his thick neck leading up to a rugged, square jawline set in a lethal, stoic line.

It was Karius Hidalgo.

The star hockey co-captain. The silent, terrifying protector of the team.

He was six-foot-four of pure, heavy muscle. He wore a simple, functional dark flannel shirt left unbuttoned over a fitted dark Henley that stretched tightly across his barrel chest. A faint, jagged scar sat right above his left eyebrow, making his rugged face look even more terrifying in the dim dashboard light. On his left wrist was a worn, dark leather wristband, contrasting with his fair skin and the light dusting of freckles across his broad shoulders. His dark ash brown hair was cut short and military-neat, slightly damp at the tips.

Right now, his deep forest green eyes were fixed directly on me. They were hooded, unreadable, and colder than the storm raging outside the windows.

"I... I..." I stammered, my mouth opening and closing as I cowered against the door panel. "I'm... I'm sorry..."

"Did you just yank my car door open?" Karius asked. His voice was low, heavy, and rumbling, vibrating straight through the leather seats and into my spine. "Who gave you permission to climb into my vehicle?"

"I'm sorry!" I gasped, clutching the front of my oversized hoodie with soaking wet hands. "I... I just needed to hide... there are people outside..."

"Get out," Karius grunted. His dark forest green eyes narrowed as he looked down at my drenched sweater, my baggy jeans, and my muddy sneakers dripping water all over his pristine floor mats. "You're getting water all over my leather."

"Please," I choked out, my throat constricting tightly. My chest felt like it was being crushed by a physical weight. I couldn't draw in a full breath of air. "Please, just... just give me two minutes! There are students out there with cameras... they're following me..."

Karius didn't move an inch. He slowly shifted his massive frame, turning sideways in his seat to face me directly. His sheer size was suffocating. His broad shoulders completely blocked out what little light was filtering through the rain-slicked windshield.

"I don't give a single shit about your cameras," Karius said, his voice deadly calm and utterly cold. "I asked you a question. Who the fuck are you, and why are you dripping rain on my seats?"

He leaned in closer, his sharp green eyes scanning my face behind my thick, rain-spotted glasses. His strong jaw tightened, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied my features.

"Wait," Karius muttered, his deep tone shifting from dark irritation to cold, sudden recognition. "You're that girl. Cassy. Hendrix's girl."

Hearing that name felt like a serrated blade plunging directly into my chest and twisting.

"Don't..." I wheezed, my hand flying to my collarbone as my throat closed up completely. "Don't... don't call me that... I'm not... I'm not his anything..."

"You're the one who caused a scene on the arena floor," Karius said, his dark green eyes locked tightly onto mine. "The one who slapped him in front of thousands of people."

"He humiliated me!" I tried to yell, but my voice cracked violently, coming out as a weak, desperate choke. Fresh tears rushed into my eyes, burning my cheeks as they mixed with the rain on my skin. "He... he proposed to Portia... right in front of me... after two whole years of hiding me..."

My lungs locked up entirely. The air refused to enter my chest. I began to hyperventilate, my body twitching as I took rapid, shallow, useless gasps. My vision swirled with dark spots, the cabin spinning around me as severe panic completely took over my body.

"Hey," Karius said, his deep voice dropping an octave, losing a fraction of its harsh edge. "Hey, breathe."

"I... I can't..." I gasped, my fingers clawing at my neck. "I can't... breathe..."

"Stop hyperventilating, Cassy," Karius commanded, leaning in even further.

His heavy, warm breath fanned across my cold, rain-chilled cheek. He smelled overwhelmingly like cold ocean air, clean soap, and dark cedarwood.

"Look at me," Karius growled softly, his large hand coming up to hover near my face without touching me yet. "Look at my eyes. Take a breath, damn it."

"I... I'm going to..." I stuttered, my stomach violently twisting into a tight, agonizing knot.

The overwhelming shock of Hendrix's betrayal, the public humiliation, the freezing rain, and the terrifying reality of being trapped inside a blacked-out luxury car with the most intimidating hockey player on campus proved to be too much for my body to handle. My stomach revolted instantly.

"What?" Karius asked, reaching out to grab my shoulder. "What's wrong with-"

Before he could finish his sentence, my body completely surrendered.

I let out a harsh, gagging gasp and vomited directly onto his chest.

The warm, sickening mess splashed straight across his dark flannel shirt and his clean dark Henley underneath, dripping down the heavy fabric and pooling over his lap.

The inside of the Maybach fell into absolute, suffocating silence.

I froze in pure horror, my mouth hanging open, my eyes wide behind my tortoiseshell glasses.

Karius completely froze, too.

His massive body went rigid as granite. He slowly lowered his head, staring down at his ruined designer clothing, then slowly raised his dark forest green eyes back up to mine. His square jaw clenched so hard I heard the joint pop in the quiet cabin. The faint scar above his left eyebrow twitched violently.

"Did you..." Karius breathed out, his voice dropping into a dangerously low, animalistic growl from deep within his barrel chest. "Did you just throw up on me?"

"I'm... I'm so sorry!" I shrieked softly, pure terror gripping every single muscle in my small body. I frantically reached out with my wet, trembling hands to try to wipe the mess off his chest. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to! I'm so sick, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't fucking touch it!" Karius snapped.

Before I could pull my hands back, Karius's huge, calloused hand shot out like a striking viper.

His massive fingers wrapped around both of my thin wrists at the exact same time, locking around my skin like a pair of solid steel handcuffs. His grip was insanely tight, firm, and completely immovable, trapping both of my hands together in mid-air right above his chest. He yanked my wrists closer to him, pinning me directly in place.

"Karius, please!" I gasped, my hazel eyes wide with sheer panic.

His physical presence was completely overwhelming. He leaned over me, his massive six-foot-four frame trapping me against the passenger door. His breathing was heavy, thick, and ragged against my face. The sheer, intense physical heat radiating off his massive body cut straight through the freezing chill of my rain-soaked sweater.

"Look at me," Karius growled, his deep voice vibrating straight through my trapped wrists.

I stared into his intense, unblinking green eyes, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. My breath hitched as his thick thumb rubbed hard against the sensitive pulse point on my inner wrist, feeling my racing heartbeat.

"You broke into my car," Karius said, his voice dropping into a harsh, possessive whisper that sent a strange, electric shiver down my spine. "You soaked my custom leather seats. You threw up on my clothes."

"I... I didn't mean to..." I whimpered, trembling beneath his heavy, dominating weight. "I was having a panic attack... please, let me go..."

"And on top of all that," Karius continued, ignoring my plea completely, his sharp gaze shifting away from my face to look at the passenger side mirror. "I heard that metal screech when you grabbed my door handle."

My throat went dry. "What?" I squeaked.

Karius released one of my wrists, keeping his unbreakable grip on the other. He used his free hand to reach over and adjust the side mirror so the ambient yellow parking lot light hit the side of his SUV.

Through the rain-slicked window, the long, ugly, jagged white gouge in his custom matte black paint job was glaringly visible. It ran halfway down the length of the passenger door, ruined beyond repair.

Karius's jaw clenched tightly. A dark, terrifying smirk touched his lips-a look full of pure dominance and dangerous intent.

"That's custom matte paint," Karius growled, his deep forest green eyes snapping back to mine with absolute focus. He tightened his grip on my remaining wrist, pulling me a fraction of an inch closer until our noses were almost touching. "That paint job costs more than your entire tuition for a whole semester."

"I... I can't pay for that!" I sobbed, fresh tears welling up in my eyes. "I don't have any money! I spent everything I saved on... on..."

"On Hendrix?" Karius sneered, his tone dark and full of contempt. "That gullible, arrogant asshole isn't here to save you now, Cassy."

Hearing my name roll off his tongue in that low, possessive growl made my core tighten with a sudden, confusing burst of heat.

"Please, Karius," I begged, my shaky breath fanning across his lips. "Let me out. I'll get a second job. I'll pay you back every single week, I swear to god!"

"You think I'm just going to let you walk away after you trashed my ride and threw up on my chest?" Karius chuckled, a dark, low sound that vibrated against my skin.

He leaned back just enough to reach the center console with his broad hand.

His thick finger slammed down on the master door lock button.

A loud, heavy mechanical thud echoed through the Maybach as every single door locked tight.

Before I could even scream, Karius grabbed the gear shift, threw the SUV into drive, and slammed his heavy foot straight down on the gas pedal.

The powerful twin-turbo engine let out a deep, thunderous roar, shaking the entire frame of the vehicle as the Maybach shot forward, peeling out of the VIP parking lot and tearing into the dark, rain-soaked night.

"Karius! What are you doing?" I screamed, grabbing his forearm with my free hand. His muscles felt like solid iron beneath my fingers. "Where the fuck are you taking me?"

Karius didn't even look at me. His forest green eyes were fixed strictly on the dark road ahead, his strong jaw set like stone as he steered the heavy vehicle through the blinding storm with one hand.

"You ruined my ride, Cassy," Karius said, his deep, stoic voice filling the locked cabin with absolute authority. "You're coming with me. And you aren't leaving until you pay for every single cent of damage you just caused."

Cassy

"Where the fuck are you taking me?" I gasped, my voice shaking so hard my teeth rattled together.

I grabbed the leather armrest with both hands, staring out the rain-streaked windshield of the Maybach. The heavy SUV was flying down the dark highway, fast and smooth, leaving the bright lights of the campus far behind us in the storm.

Karius didn't even turn his head. His massive hands held the leather steering wheel at ten and two, his dark ash brown hair cut short and neat against his thick neck. His broad shoulders completely filled out the driver's seat, his fair skin dusted with light freckles under the dark dashboard lights.

"I told you," Karius growled, his deep voice rumbling through the leather seats like distant thunder. "You're coming with me."

"Turn this car around right now!" I yelled, pulling my oversized hoodie tight around my soaked body. "I don't even know you! You can't just kidnap me because I accidentally scratched your stupid car!"

"Accidentally?" Karius scoffed, his sharp square jaw clenching tightly. He threw a quick, cold glance at me with his deep forest green eyes. "You dragged a metal ring across custom matte paint, Cassy. That's not an accident. That's a five-thousand-dollar mistake."

"I was having a panic attack!" Tears burned hot behind my round tortoiseshell glasses. "People were chasing me with cameras! My life was completely ruined five minutes ago, and you're screaming at me about a car!"

"I'm not screaming," Karius said, his tone flat, stoic, and unreadable. "If I were screaming, you'd know it."

"Just drop me off at my dorm," I begged, clutching my hands together in my lap. "Please. I'm freezing, I'm wet, and I just want to lie down and pretend today never happened."

"Your dorm is currently crawling with fake friends and reporters trying to film your crying face for views," Karius said, leaning forward slightly as he took a sharp right turn into an exclusive private driveway. "You think you're going back there tonight? You wouldn't last five minutes before someone put a phone in your face."

I squeezed my eyes shut as fresh pain sliced through my chest. He was right. Hendrix had made sure I was the joke of the whole university. The video of me hitting him was everywhere by now. I had nowhere to go. No one to call.

"So where are we?" I asked softly, my hazel eyes looking out the window as the Maybach rolled into a private underground garage.

The garage was huge, lined with polished concrete walls and glowing LED lights. Expensive sports cars were parked in neat rows, but Karius pulled into a private, gated section labeled with a gold badge.

"My place," Karius said, putting the Maybach into park and shutting off the engine. The sudden silence in the vehicle was heavy and suffocating. "Well, my penthouse. I share it with Elijah and Chase."

My stomach did a violent drop. "The Golden Trio's penthouse? Are you insane? I can't go in there!"

"You're already in my car with vomit on my shirt," Karius said, unbuckling his seatbelt. He turned his massive body toward me, his towering six-foot-four frame casting a huge shadow over me in the dim light. His green eyes locked onto mine, fierce and unyielding. "You think stepping into an elevator is going to ruin your reputation any more than it already is?"

"Karius, please-"

"Out," he commanded, stepping out of the SUV and slamming his door shut.

Before I could even think about locking the door from the inside, Karius pulled the passenger side open. He reached in, grabbed my arm with his massive, warm hand, and gently but firmly pulled me out onto the concrete floor. His grip was impossible to break, his long fingers wrapping almost all the way around my thin wrist.

"I can walk on my own," I muttered, shivering as the chilly garage air hit my damp clothes.

"Then walk," Karius growled, not letting go of my wrist for a single second as he led me toward a private chrome elevator at the back of the garage.

He pressed his thumb against a biometric scanner next to the doors. A quiet chime echoed through the empty garage, and the heavy doors slid open. He pushed me inside gently, stepping in right behind me. The elevator was lined with dark tinted mirrors and polished gold trim.

I looked at our reflection in the mirror. I looked like a drowned rat-tiny, soaked, my dark chestnut hair sticking to my cheeks, my thick glasses crooked on my nose. Standing beside me, Karius looked like an absolute giant. His thick neck, barrel chest, and broad shoulders made me look impossibly small next to him. His dark flannel shirt was stained where I had thrown up, but he didn't even seem to care anymore. His stoic, rugged face was set in a hard line, his faint eyebrow scar making him look even scarier.

The elevator shot upward, the floor numbers flashing quickly. Fortieth floor. Forty-first. Forty-second. Forty-fifth.

Chime.

The heavy doors slid open directly into a massive, jaw-dropping high-rise penthouse. The ceilings were two stories high, lined with floor-to-ceiling glass windows that looked out over the stormy city skyline. The furniture was all dark leather, dark wood, and minimalist luxury.

"Karius?" a warm, motherly voice called out from around the corner. "Is that you? You took forever at the arena-oh my goodness gracious!"

A short, plump woman with salt-and-pepper grey hair pinned in a neat bun came hurrying out of the kitchen area. She wore a comfortable simple dress covered by a crisp, immaculate white apron. Her round face was full of gentle laugh lines, but the moment her kind brown eyes landed on me, her jaw dropped in absolute shock.

It was Mrs. Mori, the famous penthouse housekeeper of Karius Hidalgo.

"What on earth?" Mrs. Mori gasped, bustling forward on her short legs. She took one look at my dripping, shivering body, then looked up at Karius with a sharp, angry glare. "Karius Hidalgo! What did you do to this poor girl?"

"I didn't do anything to her, Mrs. Mori," Karius grunted, finally letting go of my wrist. "Cassandra dragged her ring down my Maybach and then threw up on my shirt."

"I don't care if she set your automobile on fire!" Mrs. Mori scolded, stepping directly between Karius and me. She raised her soft arms, physically shielding my small frame from the towering athlete. "Look at her! She's trembling like a leaf in a hurricane! She's soaked to the bone!"

"Mrs. Mori, I'm sorry-" I started to whisper, my voice cracking with embarrassment.

"Hush now, sweet child," Mrs. Mori said softly, turning around to face me. Her kind eyes crinkled with deep warmth as she took my freezing, wet hands into her soft, warm ones. "You don't need to apologize for a single thing in this house. You're safe now."

She looked back up at Karius and shooed him away with her hand. "Go take off that filthy shirt and wash your face, you big brute! Leave this poor child to me!"

Karius let out a low, deep grumble in his chest, but he didn't argue with her. He shifted his broad weight, his forest green eyes lingering on my face for a long, intense second. His jaw clenched once, a strange, possessive flare flashing in his dark eyes before he turned on his heel and walked down the long, dimly lit hallway toward his bedroom.

"Come along, dear," Mrs. Mori said, gently placing a warm arm around my waist and guiding me down a side corridor. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia."

"Thank you," I breathed out, my chest aching with sudden, overwhelming gratitude. "I'm so sorry to bother you..."

"You are no bother at all," Mrs. Mori said firmly, pushing open a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. "This is the guest suite. Nobody uses it."

The guest suite was bigger than my entire dorm room. It had a massive king-sized bed covered in plush white duvets, a fireplace flickering with warm orange flames, and an adjoining master bathroom made of pristine white marble.

Mrs. Mori immediately walked into the bathroom and turned on the heavy brass faucets over a massive clawfoot bathtub. Steaming hot water began pouring into the tub, filling the air with the comforting scent of lavender and sweet oil.

"Strip out of those soaking wet rags, child," Mrs. Mori instructed gently, pulling a stack of thick, fluffy white towels from a wooden cabinet. "Get into that hot bath and let the water warm your bones. I'll bring you something hot to eat."

"You don't have to do all this," I said, tears blurring my vision again as I looked at the kind woman. "I'm just... I'm nobody."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Mori smiled, reaching up to pat my wet cheek with her soft hand. "You are a human being who has had a terrible, horrible night. Now get into that water before I scold you too."

I gave her a tiny, shaky smile. Mrs. Mori patted my shoulder one last time and walked out, closing the heavy bathroom door behind her.

The moment I was alone, I peeled off my wet, heavy hoodie, my scuffed sneakers, my muddy jeans, and my soaked socks. My skin was goosebumped and pale from the freezing storm. I stepped over the edge of the marble tub and lowered my body into the steaming hot water.

A soft, breathless gasp escaped my lips as the extreme heat wrapped around my freezing skin. I sank deep into the bubbles, resting my head against the smooth porcelain edge. I closed my eyes and let the hot water wash away the rain, the dirt, and the lingering ache of Hendrix's cruel words.

For twenty minutes, I just floated, letting my racing heart slowly return to a normal rhythm.

A gentle knock sounded on the bathroom door.

"Cassandra, dear?" Mrs. Mori called out softly. "I left some fresh clothes on the bed for you, and I brought some hot soup."

"Thank you, Mrs. Mori! I'm coming out now," I called back.

I drained the tub, dried myself off with the thick white towel, and stepped out into the warm bedroom. Laid neatly on the edge of the massive plush bed was a set of clothes-a pair of thick, oversized grey sweatpants and a matching soft grey long-sleeved sweatshirt.

I pulled them on immediately. The fabric was insanely soft, smelling like clean cotton and fresh linen. The sweatpants were long on my five-foot-four frame, pooling over my bare feet, and the sweatshirt hung loosely off my slender shoulders, hiding my soft curves beneath the heavy fabric. I felt cozy, warm, and hidden.

Sitting on the nightstand was a steaming bowl of homemade chicken vegetable soup.

I sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the silver spoon, my hands still shaking slightly. The first bite of hot broth was so comforting I felt fresh tears slip down my cheeks. I ate greedily, finishing half the bowl before Mrs. Mori walked back into the room holding a soft dry towel and a wide-tooth comb.

"Look at you, much better already," Mrs. Mori beamed, setting a small wooden stool behind me. "Sit right here, child. Let me dry your hair."

I moved over to the stool, sitting quietly as Mrs. Mori gently wrapped the warm towel around my long chestnut brown hair, patting out the excess water.

"Mrs. Mori?" I asked softly, looking down at my hands in my lap. "Why did Karius bring me here? He was so angry at me."

Mrs. Mori chuckled softly, her hands working carefully to comb out the tangles in my straight hair. "Karius Hidalgo grumbles at everything, my dear. He was born with a scowl on his face. But he brought you here because he knew you needed a sanctuary."

"A sanctuary?" I repeated, my hazel eyes reflecting the warm glow of the fireplace.

"This penthouse is the only place on earth where those three boys can escape," Mrs. Mori explained gently, her comb sliding smoothly through my chestnut locks. "Elijah, Chase, and Karius... they are the Golden Trio. The captains of the ice. The whole university worships them, but the whole world expects them to be perfect."

I stayed quiet, listening to the soft rustle of the towel.

"On the ice, they are absolute monsters," Mrs. Mori continued, her tone turning fond yet serious. "They are cold, ruthless, vicious, and completely unstoppable. People look at them and think they are heartless alphas who care about nothing except winning championships."

Mrs. Mori paused, setting the comb down on the nightstand and placing her warm, motherly hands on my shoulders. She looked at my reflection in the mirror with kind, crinkling brown eyes.

"But listen to me very carefully, Cassandra," Mrs. Mori warned softly. "While they may seem terrifying and cold on the outside, they are fiercely protective of whatever enters their home. They don't let just anyone step through that front door. This penthouse is their domain."

"I... I don't want to intrude," I whispered, my heart fluttering nervously in my chest. "I can leave in the morning."

"You are not intruding, child," Mrs. Mori smiled, patting my shoulder gently. "Now that you are under this roof, you are under their shield. I saw the video of what happened to you... Listen to me, no one outside-not that foolish Sevilla boy, not that sneaky Portia girl, and certainly not those media vultures-can touch you while you are in this house."

She squeezed my shoulder gently before picking up her tray. "Get some sleep, Cassandra. You've survived enough for one night."

"Thank you, Mrs. Mori," I said, watching her give me one last warm smile before she stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, listening to the soft crackle of the fireplace. My mind was spinning. The warmth of the soup and the hot bath had loosened the tight knot in my chest, but my throat was completely dry.

I needed a glass of water.

I pushed myself off the stool, my bare feet sinking into the ultra-soft dark carpet. I quietly turned the door handle and stepped out into the dim hallway.

The penthouse was silent now. The main lights were turned off, leaving only soft, warm ambient floor strips illuminating the dark hardwood corridors. High above, the sound of rain tapping against the glass windows sounded faint and distant.

I walked softly down the long hallway, keeping my steps quiet as I searched for the kitchen. I turned a sharp corner near the main open-concept living room, my head down as I pulled the long grey sleeves of my oversized sweatshirt over my hands.

Bump!

My forehead slammed directly into a solid wall of warm, bare muscle.

"Whoa," a deep, commanding voice growled softly above me.

I stumbled backward from the impact, my bare feet slipping slightly on the polished floor. Before I could fall, two massive, warm hands shot out and caught me by the waist. His long, thick fingers wrapped firmly around my sides, his touch burning straight through the soft fabric of my sweatpants and locking me in place.

My heart slammed straight into my throat. I gasped, my hazel eyes flying wide open behind my thick, round tortoiseshell glasses as I looked up.

Standing directly in front of me was Elijah Castanier.

He was six-foot-three of pure, sculpted muscle. He was completely bare-chested, wearing only a pair of dark, low-slung lounge pants that hung loosely off his broad hips. His olive skin was flawless, his chest broad and defined with corded muscles from years of dominating the ice. His jet black hair was cut short, immaculate even in the middle of the night, not a single strand out of place.

He smelled intoxicating-a sharp, rich blend of dark sandalwood, expensive soap, and crisp, fresh ice.

Elijah stared down at me, his sharp jawline set tight, his straight nose inches from mine. But it was his eyes that completely paralyzed me.

His eyes were ice blue-piercing, cold, fiercely intensely focused, and terrifyingly beautiful.

His ice-blue gaze swept down my petite body, taking in my oversized grey sweatpants, my messy dark chestnut hair cascading over my shoulders, and my wide, trembling hazel eyes. His big hands stayed clamped firmly around my waist, pulling my body an inch closer to his chest until I could feel the intense heat radiating off his bare skin.

His lips, which rarely ever curved into a smile, parted slightly as his breathing deepened.

"Who the fuck," Elijah whispered, his deep, commanding voice echoing through the dark, quiet hallway, "are you?"