Chapter 5

Sienna’s Pov

The elevator chimed, the metallic doors sliding open to reveal a bright, bustling hotel lobby. Warm sunlight streamed through the tall glass walls, practically blinding me as I stood frozen in place. Ryder’s fingers were still wrapped tightly around my wrist, his grip warm and steady.

"Sienna," he repeated, his dark eyes searching my face with an intensity that made it almost impossible to breathe. "Answer me."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to pull my hand away. The sudden lack of contact made my skin feel instantly cold. "We aren't enemies, Ryder," I whispered, keeping my voice as steady as I could. "We never really were. But this... this can't happen again."

Before he could answer, I turned on my heel and rushed across the lobby, slipping out through the heavy glass doors into the cool morning air. I caught a cab, slid into the backseat, and leaned my head against the cold window. My heart was pounding, a strange mixture of absolute fear and lingering warmth swirling in my chest.

When I finally got back to my apartment, I threw my jacket onto a chair, collapsed onto the sofa, and buried my face in my hands. The memory of his hands, his voice, and the way he had listened to me rushed back, making my face burn hot. Leaving him sleeping in that bed had been the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, but I knew I had no choice. Becoming involved with my brother's star player would ruin everything I had been working so hard to build.

To distract myself, I opened my laptop and began typing out notes for the upcoming second stage of my sports broadcasting application. For a few hours, the comforting world of hockey strategy and statistics helped ground me.

Then, at four in the afternoon, my phone blew up.

It started with a text from my best friend, containing nothing but a link and a hundred exclamation points. I clicked it, and my breath instantly caught in my throat.

It was a picture from last night.

The photo showed Ryder and me stepping out of the hotel lounge toward the private exit. Ryder’s hand was resting gently against the small of my back, guiding me forward, and I was looking up at him with a soft, undeniable smile. The headline above the image read in huge, bold letters: "SECRET NIGHT OUT: NHL Golden Boy Ryder Callahan Spotted Leaving Party With Team Owner's Sister!"

"No, no, no," I muttered, my hands shaking as I scrolled down.

The post already had fifty thousand shares. Within ten minutes, another article popped up, this time showing a grainy picture of Ryder’s car parked outside his building early this morning, alongside a zoomed-in shot of me getting into a taxi outside the exact same building an hour later.

The internet was in a total frenzy. The comment section was a absolute nightmare.

“She’s using her brother’s money and influence to get close to players!” one person wrote.

“Callahan is just sleeping with the owner’s sister so he doesn't get traded,” another comment read.

Tears of sheer frustration filled my eyes. Everything I had tried so hard to avoid was happening all at once. If the broadcasting company saw this scandal, they would throw my application in the trash, assuming I was just a dramatic, fame-obsessed rich girl.

My phone rang again, blindingly bright on the coffee table. The screen showed my brother's name.

"Sienna," Julian’s voice snapped the second I pressed accept. He sounded colder and more furious than I had ever heard him before. "Get to my office right now. We have a massive problem."

Thirty minutes later, I walked into the top-floor conference room at the team's main facility. The room was suffocatingly tense. Julian was sitting at the head of the long glass table, flanked by the team’s top public relations manager and Ryder’s personal agent.

Ryder was standing over by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He looked like a caged animal ready to tear the room apart. The moment the door clicked open, his eyes snapped to mine. A quick flash of worry crossed his face, but he didn't say a word.

"Sit down, Sienna," Julian said sternly, gesturing to an empty leather chair.

"Julian, this is absurd," I said, standing my ground near the doorway instead. "It’s just gossip accounts making up stories for clicks! We just need to post a statement denying everything and tell people to mind their own business."

"We can't just deny it," the PR manager chimed in, adjusting her glasses nervously. "The photographs are too clear. If we deny it and another picture from inside the hotel leaks, it will look like a cover-up. Ryder's major shoe sponsor is already threatening to freeze his contract until this clears up."

"Nobody has the right to dictate what I do in my personal life!" Ryder growled from the window, his voice low and dangerous as he stepped toward the table. "You don't own me, and you certainly don't own Sienna."

"I own the team, Callahan!" Julian slammed his hand onto the table, the loud noise echoing off the glass walls. "And right now, this organization looks like a mess! The media is dragging my family's name through the mud, and your performance on the ice is already under a microscope!"

"So what are you saying?" I asked, my voice trembling with anger. "You're going to punish us for a photo?"

"No," Julian said, his expression settling into a cold, calculated calm that made a sudden chill run down my spine. "We are going to fix it. We are going to take control of the narrative before it destroys both of your reputations."

Julian picked up a thick white folder from the table and slid it slowly across the glass surface toward us.

Ryder stepped over, snatched the folder, and flipped it open. I walked up beside him, reading over his shoulder. The document was titled: Emergency Public Relations Strategy: Unified Relationship Narrative.

Ryder’s eyes skimmed the first paragraph, and his jaw instantly clamped shut. His chest rose and fell in heavy, angry breaths. He slammed the folder shut so hard the sound echoed like a gunshot.

"Are you insane?" Ryder hissed, glaring straight at my brother. "I am not doing this."

"Julian, what is this?" I demanded, pulling the folder toward me, my eyes darting across the printed lines.

Julian leaned back in his leather chair, crossing his hands over his suit jacket, his eyes fixated entirely on me.

"The only way to save both of your reputations," Julian announced, his voice totally devoid of emotion, "is to announce that you two haven't been having a cheap scandal. We are going to tell the world that you have been secretly, deeply in love for six months—and that Ryder is about to propose to you."

The air completely sucked out of my lungs. I stared at my brother in utter disbelief, unable to form a single word.

"A fake engagement?" I finally choked out, my voice cracking. "Are you out of your mind?!"

Before Julian could answer, Ryder took a sharp step forward, looming over the table, his face twisted in absolute rage.

"Absolutely not," Ryder said, looking directly from Julian straight into my eyes. "I’d rather lose every single sponsorship I have than pretend I’m going to marry your sister."