20– Gabrielle

The front door hadn't even finished slamming against the frame before I was down the steps, my vision blurring with an unadulterated rage.

I hadn't planned on looking out the window. I had planned on sitting in the foyer, waiting for Kayden to dismiss whatever random leech or angry fan had swerved into his driveway. 

But the sound I heard was the sickening crack of a blunt object hitting bone, followed by a low, breathless groan from a voice that I recognized instantly.

I didn't think. 

I just ran.

“Hey! Stay the fuck away from him, you asshole!” I screamed.

The man holding the hockey stick froze, his head snapping toward me. His hands were calloused and shaking slightly as he held the hockey stick mid-air. 

My eyes dropped to the ground where Kayden was curled, his face flushed and wet, his fingers clutching his ribs as his chest heaved in ragged gasps.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I roared, closing the distance between us. I pulled out my phone with trembling fingers, violently tapping the screen. “You dare come onto private property and assault someone for no reason? You think you can just lay your hands on a professional athlete and walk away from it?”

The man just stared at me, a slow, devilish smirk twisting his mouth.

I swiped the phone to speaker, dialing the estate's security gate house. 

The line rang twice before a panicked voice answered. “Front gate, this is—”

“You are all fired!” I barked into the phone, my voice shaking with anger. “Every single one of you on this shift is incompetent! There is a deranged man currently assaulting Kayden Alvarez in his own driveway, and you idiots just waved him through the gate? If the police aren't here in the next two minutes, I will personally ensure your agency is sued into bankruptcy and your licenses are stripped! Fix this now!”

I slammed the call to an end, shoving the phone back into my pocket as I stepped between the intruder and Kayden’s battered body.

The older man let out a dry, rattling chuckle. He lowered the hockey stick, leaning his weight against it as he clicked his tongue against his teeth, his eyes scanning my face with a sickening amusement.

“It seems my son found himself a woman as feisty as he is,” he murmured, a low snicker escaping his throat. He shook his head, looking back down at Kayden. “Dear God, I have my hands full.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My brain stalled, the air leaving my lungs in a rush.

Son.

I froze, looking between the disheveled man standing in front of me and Kayden, who was still kneeling on the ground.

“H-he’s your father?” I stuttered.

No response, at least not from Kayden. 

The man, however, responded. “Yes, his father,” he affirmed. “He’s my son.”

I looked back at Kayden, my brows pulled into a furrow.

Kayden’s head was lowered toward his chest, his eyes shut tight as a fresh wave of moisture tracked down his bruised cheeks. He looked hollowed out, as if the mere mention of the word son was enough to crush whatever spirit he had left.

“For someone who had a lot to say just seconds ago, you seem awfully quiet.” The man stepped forward, stretching his hand for a shake. “I’m Kane, you must be my son's supposed romantic partner. You’re even more beautiful in person.”

I stared at the outstretched hand, my mouth hanging open.

The realization settled into my stomach. This wasn't a random stalker. This wasn't a disgruntled fan.

Kane.

I was in front of Kayden’s father.

My anger doubled, burning through my veins with a heat so intense it made my fingers twitch.

“Is that an excuse?” I whispered, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. I stepped closer to him, my voice rising until it echoed violently across the compound. “Even if you are his father, does that give you the right to hurt him like this? To beat him on the ground like a dog?”

Kane’s smirk faded, his jaw tightening. “You don’t know anything about this family, girl. Stay out of what doesn’t concern you.”

“What kind of a father are you?” I spat, ignoring his warning. “What kind of a sick, pathetic excuse for a father would come to his son’s home and hurt him this badly? He is in the middle of a professional season! His career, his body, his life—everything he built is on the line, and you think you can just show up and beat him up like this because your own life is a miserable failure?”

“Gabrielle, stop,” Kayden’s voice came through a fractured whisper from the floor, a desperate plea laced with pain. “Just… go inside.”

“No, I won't!” I yelled, my eyes never breaking contact with the man in front of me. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Kane. You are a disgusting, small man who can only feel powerful by putting your hands on a boy who refuses to fight you back. Look at yourself. You’re pathetic.”

The word hit its mark. Kane’s eyes darkened. The mocking amusement vanished from his face, replaced by rage.

“You mouthy little bitch,” Kane growled.

Before the final word left his mouth, his hand flew up, slicing through the air, intended straight for my face.

I didn't even have time to blink.

But I didn't feel the impact. 

Kayden lunged between us, throwing himself into the line of fire, taking the hit in my stead.

The heavy slap crackled against his jaw, sending him stumbling sideways into the side of his car.

Kayden let out a groan, his body doubling over instantly as his hands flew back to his left side, clutching his ribs even more tightly than before. He slid down the car, his breathing coming in frantic wheezes.

The sight of him taking another hit to protect me made something inside my brain snap.

I stepped into Kane’s face, crowding his space until our chests were barely inches apart, my hardened eyes locked on his.

“You think raising your hand to me is going to make me fear you?” I murmured, my voice dropping into a deadly register that carried more promise than any scream. “Think again, you son of a bitch.”

Kane flinched, surprised by the proximity, his hand hovering mid-air.

“If you do not get your pathetic, miserable self off this property in the next ten seconds, you will regret ever crossing paths with me,” I threatened. “You will learn—in the worst, most devastating way possible—that not everyone in this world can be crossed. I work for a multi-million dollar management firm, Kane. I have lawyers, I have media contacts, and I have the power to dismantle whatever wretched life you have left until you are rotting in a cell. Try me.”

A suffocating standoff descended over the driveway. The wind howled softly around the cars, the only sound being Kayden’s labored breathing.

Kane stared down at me, his chest heaving as he calculated the weight of my words. He looked past my shoulder at Kayden, who was struggling to even lift his head.

Kane stepped back, a sneer curling his mouth back over his teeth.

“If you say so, lady,” he muttered, tossing the hockey stick onto the ground with a loud clatter. He turned around, walking toward his car, but paused as he opened the driver's side door. He shot one last, burning look toward his son. “Don’t even think about marrying this bitch, Kayden. She’ll bleed you dry just like the rest of them. I'll be expecting to hear from you for that check.”

The door slammed shut. The engine roared to life and the car peeled backwards out of the driveway.

The silence that followed was deafening.

The adrenaline began to drain from my limbs, leaving my fingers shaking uncontrollably. 

I spun around, my heart hammering with a frantic rhythm against my ribs as panic mode set in. 

I dropped to my knees, my hands flying over Kayden's trembling shoulders.

“Kayden… Kayden, look at me,” I rushed out, my voice cracking as I touched his face. “Where does it hurt the most? Can you breathe? Let me see your jaw.”

He didn't answer. He just kept his eyes shut tight, his forehead pressed against his knees as a shudder racked his frame.

“Kayden, please, use your words,” I pleaded, my own panic rising as I reached for the hem of his hoodie, intending to lift the fabric to inspect the damage his father had done to his ribs. “Let me lift this up. We need to see if they're broken. We need to call the doctor before the Montreal trip—”

“Don’t touch me!”

“Don’t be stubborn, Kayden,” I breathed. “You have a game tomorrow. We need to be sure you can play.”

“I said don’t touch me! It’s not up to you to decide if I play or not!”

The roar tore out of his chest with so much force it echoed off the mansion walls. He slapped my hands away from his clothes, his eyes snapping open as he glared up at me.

I froze, my hands hovering in the air, my breath catching in my throat.

“Just get the fuck away from me, Gabrielle!” he snapped, his voice cracking with a mix of pain and humiliation as he pushed his body back against the car, using it as support to lift himself to his feet. He clutched his side, his face contorted in pain as he looked down at me like I was his worst enemy. “I told you to stay inside! I told you to stay the hell out of it! Firing you wasn't enough? You just had to stay out here and watch me get dismantled? Just leave me alone!”

With a ragged, breathless gasp, he opened the back seat door and slid into the car.

“Get me the fuck out of here,” he ordered the driver before looking at me. “And you, don’t even think of showing your face to me. The contract will be dissolved as soon as I’m back.”