All Chapters of The Hockey Captain’s Curvy Obsession: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

​The main diagnostic wing at the Vance-Keller Performance Center was busy by seven the next morning.​Twenty-four Seattle Kraken players moved through the testing rooms in grey training shirts and shorts. They took turns on the muscle scanners, stationary bikes, and joint-stability platforms.​I stood at the central desk in trousers and a silk blouse, checking the live data on my tablet. Lars stood beside me, typing jump-test numbers into the system.​"Rhys has been pacing outside room three for twenty minutes, Sasha," Lars said with a small smile. "He asked security twice if the temperature in here was okay for you."​I laughed softly. "I told him at breakfast that my doctor cleared me for normal work hours. He's just being overly cautious."​"Can you blame him?" Lars asked, his tone gentle. "You two built an empire, put your enemies away, and now you're having a baby. He wants to make sure you're safe."​"I can take care of myself," I said, locking my tablet and turning toward the t

​The second period started fast. The noise inside the arena was loud, with thousands of fans shouting and clapping every time the puck hit the ice.​I stood behind the bench with my clipboard, keeping a close eye on the players. My main job was to watch their movement and make sure nobody was showing signs of fatigue or injury. Every time Rhys went out for a shift, I tracked his stride. He moved fast, skated smooth, and showed zero limp. His rebuilt right knee was handling the game perfectly.​During a stoppage in play, Coach walked over to stand beside me.​"How is Keller looking to you, Sasha?" Coach asked, checking his line sheet. "Is his knee holding up under this pace?"​"He looks great, Coach," I said calmly, looking down at my notes. "His heart rate recovery on the bench is steady. His legs are strong, and his balance is right where it needs to be."​"Good," Coach said, nodding. "Because Damian is playing nasty out there. He’s trying every trick in the book to get Rhys angry an

The next morning was quiet at the mountain compound. Sunlight came through the tall windows, casting a soft glow across the kitchen.I walked downstairs in a comfortable oversized sweater and leggings. Rhys was already in the kitchen, wearing gray sweatpants and a t-shirt. He had a tray ready on the counter with scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and a cup of warm tea.The moment he heard my footsteps, he turned around. His eyes softened, a warm smile touching his lips."Good morning, doc," he said softly, walking over to meet me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. "How did you sleep?""I slept great, Rhys," I said with a small smile, resting my hands against his chest. "You don't need to make me breakfast every morning, you know.""I want to," he murmured, his hands settling over my lower stomach. "How's the baby doing today?""The baby is fine, Captain," I laughed softly. "And I'm hungry."Rhys smiled, guiding me to sit do

​By the seven-month mark, the nursery at the mountain estate was almost finished.​The room had big windows that looked out over the green pine trees. The walls were painted a soft gray, and a plush rug covered the wood floor.​I sat in a comfortable rocking chair near the window, wearing a soft sweater and leggings. My bump was big now, and I rested both hands over my stomach, watching Rhys assemble the wooden crib.​Rhys was sitting on the floor in gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Tools were spread out on a towel next to him. The six-foot-four team captain was holding a tiny wooden crib railing, carefully tightening each screw with a small Allen wrench.​I smiled softly, watching how gentle he was with every piece.​"You don't have to build the whole thing yourself, Rhys," I said with a quiet laugh. "Lars offered to send someone from the center to set it up."​Rhys didn't look up from his work. He tightened the final bolt and checked the frame to make sure it was sturdy.​"No wa

​The study at the mountain estate was quiet, save for the soft sound of rain washing against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the forest.​I sat in my deep leather armchair near the fireplace, a thick fleece throw draped over my legs to keep warm. My pregnancy bump was full and heavy against my lap now at eight months, making simple movements a slow, calculated effort. On the mahogany coffee table in front of me lay three decades of archived corporate deeds, financial audits, and old Vance family land trusts that Lars had spent all morning fetching from our central vault in downtown Seattle.​Across the room, Rhys was standing near the hearth, holding a warm cup of herbal tea he had brewed for me. He wore a dark fitted t-shirt and grey lounge pants, his large, muscular frame casting a broad, comforting shadow across the rug. Even off the ice, his gaze was sharp, resting on the yellowed parchment papers stretched out on the table.​"You've been reading those deeds for two