Three

CHAPTER 3: ADRIAN

The collar of my tuxedo felt like a wire wrapped around my throat.

I stood at the front of the chapel, right beside my father, pulling subtly at my bow tie. The place was packed with family, friends, and half the coaching staff from our team. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, making the whole setting look like something out of a fake, picture-perfect movie.

"Fix your posture, Adrian," my dad whispered under his breath, leaning his head toward me while keeping a tight, nervous smile on his face. "And stop adjusting your tie. You look like you're about to jump out of your skin."

"I'm fine," I muttered, locking my hands behind my back.

In the front row, Mason and Jace were grinning like complete idiots. Mason caught my eye and gave me a ridiculous two-finger salute, mouthing, 'Look at the best man,' while Jace buried his face in his hands to stifle a laugh. On the opposite side of the aisle sat Noah Ellery, dressed in a sharp grey suit, looking calm and perfectly composed as usual.

Then the organ music shifted, rising into a slow, formal melody. The heavy oak doors at the back of the chapel swung open.

The entire church stood up, turning toward the entrance. I turned too, expecting to see Maria.

Instead, my eyes locked on the man walking beside her.

Elliot was wearing a tailored black suit that fitted him perfectly, his arm offered politely to his mother. His dark hair was styled back, his posture utterly rigid, his jaw set in that tight, sharp line he always had when he was trying to hide his emotions.

As he stepped onto the white runner, walking slowly down the center aisle, a strange, suffocating lump formed in my throat.

He was walking directly toward the altar. Directly toward me.

My heart slammed against my ribs with a sudden, violent force that almost made me take a step back. A weird, uncomfortable heat flared beneath my skin. Seeing him like this—walking down the aisle while everyone watched—felt completely surreal. It felt wrong, unnerving, and so intensely strange that I couldn't even process what I was feeling. Was it anger? Was it disgust at how quiet and controlled he looked? I couldn't tell. All I knew was that I couldn't tear my eyes away from him until he reached the steps of the altar.

Elliot gently unclipped his mother's hand, stepping back to let her stand beside my father. Before he moved to take his seat in the front row next to Noah, his dark eyes flickered toward me.

He gave me a look so icy, so full of pure, unadulterated hostility, that the weird spell instantly shattered.

I glared right back, my hands clenching into tight fists at my sides.

An hour later, the reception was in full swing at the country club banquet hall. Glasses were clinking, music was blaring, and our parents were on the dance floor surrounded by cheering guests.

I stood near the open bar, nursing a glass of sparkling water, when Mason and Jace slid up on my right, while Noah and Elliot approached from the left.

"Well, well, well," Mason announced loudly, clapping a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Look at the happy new family. Welcome to domestic bliss, boys!"

"Shut up, Mason," I growled, taking a sip of my water.

"Oh, come on, cap!" Jace chimed in, grinning broadly as he nudged Elliot with his elbow. "You two are literally stepbrothers now. Inseparable for life. You're going to have to share Christmas dinners, birthday cakes, and probably the same living room."

"He is not my brother," Elliot said smoothly, his tone icy enough to freeze the room. He didn't even look at me. "My mother married his father. That is the beginning and the end of the arrangement."

"Right, because living in the same house for the season sounds so distant," Noah noted dryly, sipping his drink. "Try not to break the drywall on day one."

"If anyone breaks drywall, it'll be him," I spat, stepping forward to crowd Elliot's space, looking down at him. "He can barely handle sharing a locker room without complaining about my volume. Good luck surviving my house, Sorelli."

"Your house?" Elliot challenged, stepping up until his chest was inches from mine, his eyes flashing with fire. "What makes you think I'd ever want to live with you? I'd rather die than live under the same roof as you."

"Is that a threat?" I sneered, leaning closer.

"It's a fact," Elliot whispered harshly. "I'm not backing down from you at the rink, and I'm certainly not backing down from you at home."

"Will both of you shut the hell up?!" Mason barked, stepping between us and shoving a hand against my chest, while Noah grabbed Elliot’s arm. "You're at your parents' wedding! Look around you!"

"Seriously," Jace added, looking genuinely exasperated for once. "You two don't have an ounce of respect for yourselves, but at least have some for Richard and Maria. People are watching."

I glanced over Mason's shoulder. A few relatives were already staring at us with worried, whispered hushes.

Elliot ripped his arm away from Noah, adjusting his cuffs with sharp, irritated motions. "I'm going to get some air," he snapped, turning on his heel and heading toward the outdoor terrace.

I watched his back as he walked away, my blood pumping fast, my hands shaking with an energy I couldn't control.

This wasn't just a rivalry anymore. He was moving into my space, breathing my air, and standing in my house. And I was going to make sure every single day spent under the same roof was an absolute living hell for him.