MasukAfter capturing the most vulnerable moment of a hockey superstar Chase Kensington, rookie photographer Brielle Hopkins becomes his greatest enemy. Now, she has to earn his trust to stay by his side. She soon begins to see him as an arrogant man who must get out of her hair. But fate has other plans. One thing or the other keeps bringing them together. And just when they stop tearing at each other's throats, more calamities strike. Chase faces a major setback in his career, while Brielle helps him out of it, despite him losing his trust in her once more. What Bri doesn’t know is that Chase has problems worth billions and enemies lurking around. In a game where everyone is chasing victory, will love cause them to lose? Find out in this passionate thriller!
Lihat lebih banyakBrielle’s POV.
I sipped on my latte, listening to the whines of my colleague, who wanted me to fill in for her for a job.
"Please, Bree," she tugged at my dress. "Be such a doll and help me this once."
I rolled my eyes. "That's what you say every time.”
“This is the last one, I promise."
“I've also heard that one before.”
She sighed and dropped into the seat beside me. “Come on, Bree. Think of this as your first big job. Don't you want to be the photographer for the national hockey team? They're the biggest team. You cannot just miss out on that opportunity.”
“My question,” I said, facing her, "is why you want to miss out on that opportunity?”
Her shoulders dropped. “I got a better offer abroad. So instead of declining, I thought of getting someone to fill on to secure the position when I get back.”
Ah, so that was the issue.
As kind as Paige was, she was ambitious. She wouldn't give me such a great opportunity while she had none. So I guessed the other offer must be good then. But I refrained from asking her.
“Fine,” I said. “I'll do it.”
“Thank you,” she squealed. “I'll get everything ready for you. Just go ahead. And please, make sure the director never finds out about this.”
“I'll try my best, Paige.”
“Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
In no time, I was on my bike, speeding away to the venue. As the most junior member of the team, I was assigned to less desirable tasks. So, this was indeed an opportunity that rarely came by, as Paige insinuated. The highest the director ever had me do was be the lead photographer for a minister's daughter's wedding.
I got to the place and jumped off my bike before walking into the arena. It was busier than I thought it would be. This was the first time I would ever attend a hockey game, and I could already tell from the look of things that I would enjoy it.
I walked to the front row after I handed over my access card. I met with the coordinator of the photography team and took my seat at where I was assigned. He beckoned to me, and I went to meet him. There were three other people there, and they nodded at me.
I beamed at everyone and greeted them.
"Now," he said, "we don't have many rules here, but I should like to let you know that among the players in there, there is one person who doesn't like to be photographed after the game, and that is Chase Kensington. You should know him."
Ah, yes.
Chase Kensington was the star of the team. Who didn't know him? He was every girl's dream in America.. I mean… who wouldn’t want that gorgeous man? I could almost kiss Paige’s feet at the moment.
“Are you listening?” The man snapped his fingers in front of my face.
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Make sure you adhere to this rule strictly. No photographs after the game. You can capture every other person but Kensington.”
I wondered why but nodded anyway. Who cares? As long as I got more opportunities from this one, I was fine with it. We went back to our positions, and the game started.
A girl shrieked with excitement. "Oh my God, I’m so excited. I'm here for Chase Kensington alone."
The girl beside her responded, "Yeah, he's totally hot. I'm just here to see him. I don't care about the game."
I wanted to laugh, but I held it in. I had to be professional, of course. I had never seen this Chase Kensington in reality. I just saw him on the TV. I didn't know much about hockey sports, but with somebody like Chase in the game, I definitely heard about it.
Soon, the players walked into the rink. The dudes were handsome and special-looking, but there wasn't anything to fancy about them until the last player got in. He was over six foot tall with a lean muscular physique. His hair was jet black, and his eyes were…
Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out the color of his eyes as much as I wanted to. His aura on that ice alone was one I had never seen before. Naturally, I was moved to capture that for others to see, so I did.
The back of his jersey said Kensington. I gasped when I saw this. He looked even better in person! There were crazy shrieks in the audience as people were going crazy at the mere sight of him.
“Chase!” some girls screamed.
“Look at us!”
“I'm your biggest fan!” They yelled.
I smiled as I began taking the photographs. But one thing stuck to me. This gorgeous man paid no attention whatsoever to his fans. He didn’t even act like he loved them back. He just nonchalantly moved with grace on the ice, preparing for the game to begin.
Now, it was time for the game to begin, and all the players wore their helmets and grabbed their hockey sticks. Soon, they began gliding across the ice, playing. I crouched behind the board to get a perfect recording of what was happening.
The crowd erupted in a loud cheer when Chase slammed his opponent into the board. I gasped, surprised at the impact of the hit. When the opponent stood up, I realized he was all right, and I calmed down. How could they all cheer at something like this?
What if something had happened to him? But then, this just showed how much I needed to go out often, since I was always confined to my apartment. In no time, the game was over with Chase’s fans satisfied with the outcome.
I moved closer to take a perfect picture of the players’ aftermath of victory. I climbed onto a podium to get a perfect view of the rink. I gasped when I saw Chase crouched in a corner. That was not a demeanor of victory.
He turned, and I could see through my lens that he was crying! This was the most vulnerable moment of his career and would touch his fans’ hearts. I had to show them.
Don’t photograph him after the game.
Well, fuck it. It wasn’t like he could see me. I took a shot and the m
oment the flash went off, he looked directly at me.
He caught me! What should I do?
Brielle’s POV.The roar of the United Center crowd hit us like a physical wall the second the heavy double doors of the visiting tunnel swung open.Chicago on home ice wasn't just loud; it was outright hostile. Twenty thousand red-jerseyed fans screamed at the top of their lungs, hurling insults, plastic cups, and crumpled posters over the high glass partition of the tunnel. The air inside the arena was thick, hot, and heavy with the scent of stale beer, popcorn, and popcorn oil.“KENSINGTON’S BROKEN! KENSINGTON’S BROKEN!”The chant started in the upper deck and rippled down through the lower bowl like a rhythmic wave of noise, echoing off the steel girders high above.I walked two paces behind Chase, my telephoto camera rig slung tightly across my chest, my press badge secured around my neck. My heart was hammering a wild, erratic rhythm against my ribs, but I kept my chin high, staring straight ahead.Through the fabric of his black-and-silver road jersey, Chase looked monstrous, hi
Brielle’s POV.By noon, Chase’s private recovery suite on the ninth floor of Mass General had turned into a high-security war room.Outside, a ring of hospital security guards and private bodyguards kept the swarming press corps contained in the main lobby far below. Inside, the heavy blinds were drawn against the harsh afternoon sun, casting the room in dim, solemn shadows.Dr. Marcus stood beside the digital lightboard on the wall, tapping a stylus against a fresh set of high-resolution 3D CT scans of Chase’s chest. Sitting around the small glass conference table in the corner were Coach Sullivan, team lead trainer Dan, and our lead corporate legal counsel.Chase sat upright in bed, his upper body bare save for heavy medical gauze over his chest-tube insertion site and the thick, rigid fiberglass brace locking his ribcage in place. His face was drawn and pale, but his dark blue eyes were razor-sharp, tracking every mark Dr. Marcus made on the screen."I’m not going to sugarcoat this
Brielle’s POV.The double doors of Massachusetts General Hospital swung open with a harsh metallic bang, admitting a blast of autumn night air and the wail of the ambulance siren outside."Trauma Bay One!" Dr. Marcus shouted, pushing past the triage desk beside the EMTs. "We have a thirty-two-year-old male with severe blunt force thoracic trauma, secondary to a direct puck impact. Radiograph from the arena confirmed compound fractures to the sixth and seventh ribs. Oxygen saturation dropped below eighty-two on transit, acute respiratory distress, visible hemothorax, and soft-tissue hemorrhage!"The trauma bay erupted into controlled chaos. A dozen medical professionals in scrubs converged on the gurney under the stark, humming fluorescent lights. Stainless steel trays clattered as instruments were laid out. Monitors hummed to life, their harsh blue screens casting an eerie glow over Chase’s pale, blood-spattered face."Get him shifted to the bed on three!" the lead trauma surgeon comm
Brielle’s POV.The roar of nineteen thousand celebrating fans felt miles away, muffled like I was underwater.My boots skidded violently across the slick surface as I dropped to my knees beside Chase, the unforgiving cold of the ice soaked through my trousers instantly, but the freezing sting barely registered against my skin. All I could see, all that existed in my entire universe was Chase lying on his left side, his knees curled up toward his broad torso, his right hand still locked around his composite stick in a death grip while his left clutched frantically at the rigid orthopedic binding encasing his chest."Chase!" I gasped, sliding my trembling hands beneath his cold cheek to lift his face off the frozen rink. "Chase, look at me! Breathe, damn it, breathe!"His face was ghostly pale, slick with a layer of icy sweat, his jaw clamped so tight in an agonizing, silent scream that the muscles in his neck stood out like steel cords, his dark blue eyes were open but unfocused, rolli


















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