3. The Devil’s Table

JULIAN

“Stepbrother.”

The word hung in the air, sharp and heavy.

I stared at Kael, my brain going blank. The ambient noise of the restaurant, the clinking of fine crystal, the low murmur of wealthy patrons beyond the heavy oak doors, faded into a dull rush in my ears.

My chest tightened, the bruised ribs from his hit on the ice throbbing in time with my pulse.

For three years, Kael had been a nightmare confined to the rink. An explosive, chaotic force I only had to survive for sixty minutes at a time. Now, he was standing in my mother’s new reality, stepping into the one part of my life I had kept sacred.

“Ah, you boys are already acquainted?” Richard’s booming voice cut through the silence. He looked between us, a pleased, oblivious smile resting on his face.

I couldn't speak. My throat had gone dry. The control I relied on was slipping.

Kael’s eyes, dark and gleaming with quiet amusement, never left mine. He stepped fully into the room, bringing that familiar scent of wintergreen and expensive cologne with him.

“You could say that,” Kael drawled, his voice smooth and low. He walked toward the table, moving with that same easy confidence he used on the ice.

“Julian and I have a... history. We’ve crossed paths quite a bit. Isn't that right, Captain?”

I forced my jaw to loosen. “We play in the same league,” I said. My voice sounded controlled, almost too even. “The Vipers and the Falcons.”

“Not anymore,” Richard chuckled, clapping Kael on his broad shoulder as he approached. “As I was just telling Julian, Kael transferred this week. You’ll be wearing the same jersey come Monday morning. I expect you two to be a formidable duo.”

Same jersey. Same team. The bastard knew and still lured me into accepting his sick bet. I shot him a look.

“I’m really looking forward to it,” Kael said, pulling out the chair directly across from mine. He sat down, his shoulders filling the space with ease. He flashed my mother a charming, easy smile.

“Congratulations, Sarah. My dad has been a different man since he met you. I’ve never seen him happier.”

My mother’s face flushed pink. She reached out, her hand, still bearing the faint burn scars from years of working the diner’s fryers, resting gently on Kael’s forearm.

“Thank you, Kael. That means the world to me. I’ve always wanted a big family. Julian has been an only child for so long, I think having a brother will be wonderful for him.”

I dug my fingernails into my thighs beneath the table, the sharp sting keeping me steady.

A brother.

Kael’s gaze flicked back to me, the charm slipping just enough to show what sat underneath. “Oh, I’m sure Julian and I are going to be very close. I have so much to learn from him. He’s so... strictly disciplined. Aren’t you, Julian?”

“Discipline is what makes champions,” I replied coldly, picking up my water glass if only to give my hands something to hold. “Something the Vipers always struggled with.”

Richard laughed, oblivious to the edge in the exchange. “A healthy rivalry! I like it. It’ll push you both. Now, let’s order, shall we? The duck here is exceptional.”

As my mother and Richard turned to their menus, the reality of my situation settled in. I looked at my mother. I looked at the diamond on her left hand.

She would never have to work a double shift again. She would never have to worry about bills piling up on the kitchen table.

She was safe. She was happy.

If I had to endure this to keep her that way, I would.

But then I felt it.

Beneath the table, a long leg stretched out, the toe of an expensive leather shoe brushing against my shin.

Every muscle in my body went still. I shot a glare across the table. Kael was casually scanning his menu, resting his chin on his knuckles, but his eyes were on me from beneath his lashes. He shifted his leg, dragging it slowly up the side of mine.

The contact sent heat straight through me, sharp and immediate, making my spine tense. It was the same tension from the locker room, just an hour ago, right before I agreed to his bet.

If I win, you owe me one night. No rules. No perfect captain facade. You submit to me, Julian.

I jerked my leg away, tucking my boots under my chair. My heart picked up, uneven against my bruised ribs.

“Julian, sweetheart, you’re awfully quiet,” my mother said softly, lowering her menu. Her eyes searched my face, concern creeping in. “Are you feeling alright? Are your ribs bothering you?”

Kael lowered his menu. His eyes lit with quiet amusement. “Oh? Did you take a bad hit today, Julian?” he asked, feigning innocence. “You have to be careful out there. Some players don’t know how to hold back when they see an opening.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” I said, my voice tight. I forced my hands to relax, flattening them on the table. “It was just a cheap shot. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re alright,” Richard said, signaling the waiter. “Because starting tomorrow, we have a big weekend ahead of us. Sarah, my dear, the movers are scheduled to pack up your apartment on Sunday. Julian, I’ve already had Kael’s things moved into the east wing of the new estate. Your room is right next to his. You two will share the adjoining bathroom. I thought it would help you bond.”

The room tilted.

Right next to his. Shared bathroom.

I couldn’t steady my breathing. My carefully structured life was shifting, piece by piece, and it was all being handed to Kael.

“That sounds perfect, Richard,” my mother beamed.

Kael leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. The sleeves of his black button-down pulled slightly against his arms. He looked directly into my eyes, the last trace of politeness gone, leaving something far more intense behind.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Kael murmured, his voice lower now, meant only for me. “It’s going to be a very long season.”

The waiter arrived, filling our glasses with champagne. Richard raised his flute, his silver hair catching the chandelier light. “To new beginnings,” he toasted. “To family.”

“To family,” my mother echoed, her voice thick with emotion.

I picked up my glass. Across the table, Kael did the same. He didn’t look at his father or my mother. Only at me.

“To the bet,” Kael mouthed silently.

He took a slow sip, his gaze steady, full of promise.

I swallowed the champagne, but it sat bitter on my tongue.