บททั้งหมดของ Beneath The Ice: Falling for the captain : บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

The box in my arms felt heavier with every step I took into Stefan’s penthouse. It wasn’t just the weight of the medical textbooks; it was the weight of the lie.I stopped in the center of the living room, my breath catching. The space was exactly like Stefan Kovacs: cold, expensive, and designed to be looked at. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the city, the Aurora Wolves’ arena glowing in the distance like a blue-lit temple."Don't just stand there, Hart. You're blocking the flow."Stefan pushed past me, carrying two of my suitcases as if they were filled with feathers rather than my entire life. He was back in his element—commanding, physical, and entirely too comfortable. He dropped the bags by a sleek leather sofa that probably cost more than my entire university degree."Where’s the guest room?" I asked, my voice echoing in the minimalist space.Stefan stopped. He turned slowly, a slow, infuriatingly handsome smirk spreading across his face. He leaned against the marble kitchen

The blinding white light of the camera flashes seemed to burn right through my eyelids, and as the applause washed over the stage like a wave of static, I could feel the microscopic tremor in Stefan’s hand where his fingers were locked with mine.We were standing at the center of the universe, the golden trophies of the Aurora Wolves gleaming behind us, but my mind was entirely stuck on that text message vibrating against my thigh.Check the morning editions."Thank you, everyone," Stefan’s voice boomed through the microphone, smooth and flawless, his captain’s charm effortlessly masking the fact that his body was completely tense beside me. “Noah and I appreciate the support, and we’re focused on bringing a championship home to this city."He didn't look at me as he spoke, but his thumb brushed against the back of my hand, a small and grounding rhythm that felt desperately like a lifeline in a room full of sharks.The moment the GM patted Stefan on the back and released us from the

NOAHThe boardroom on the top floor of the Aurora Wolves executive offices felt less like a meeting space and more like an execution chamber, the massive mahogany table polished to such a high shine that I could see the distorted, pale reflection of my own face staring back at me as I tried to keep my breathing steady.The weight of the platinum band on my left ring finger felt like an anchor, dragging down my entire arm, and no matter how hard I tried to tuck my hand into my lap, the diamond kept catching the harsh fluorescent lights, flashing a brilliant, blinding reminder of the absolute madness we had committed at two in the morning."Thank you for joining us on such short notice, Kovacs, Vale," the General Manager, Arthur Ward, said, his voice dropping into a dry, corporate rumble as he gestured to the folder resting in front of him, the paper crinkling under his heavy hands. "I assume you’ve both seen the morning editions, the allegations from this 'insider' are gaining traction

NOAHThe taste of him was everything I’d been trying to block out since the night in the bar—sharp, cold like the ice, but underneath it, a terrifying, suffocating heat that completely dismantled my ability to think.My back hit the row of heavy metal equipment lockers with a dull, echoing thud that rattled the keys in my pocket, but I barely felt the impact because Stefan’s body was heavy against mine, his bare chest pressed so tightly against my suit vest that I could feel the violent, irregular rhythm of his heart hammering straight through the fabric.I should have pushed him away, I should have remembered the rules, the fact that we were currently ten feet away from a corridor crawling with sports journalists, but my hands had a completely different agenda, my fingers burying themselves into the damp, dark hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him deeper into a kiss that felt less like a romance and more like a car crash.Stefan groaned, a low, desperate sound that vibrated right

NOAHThe press room didn't just go quiet; it completely emptied of air as the word line-fixing dropped into the microphones like a live grenade, the echo vibrating through the speakers until the metal stands hummed.Beside me, Stefan didn't move a single muscle, his hand still holding mine with an iron grip that was the only thing keeping my knees from buckling right there on the stage under the collective glare of fifty sports journalists who had just realized they were sitting on the biggest sports scandal of the decade."That's... that's a lie," Luca stammered from the center aisle, his face draining of color so fast he looked almost translucent under the harsh television studio lights, his arms dropping to his sides as the cameras pivoted toward him like a pack of wolves sensing a wounded animal. "Arthur! Sandra! Tell them he’s lying, my trade was clean, it was a strategic roster swap!"Sandra didn't say a word, her face completely frozen as she looked down at her tablet, while b