Todos los capítulos de Breaking the ice : Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

Ethan’s hands were shaking as he stared at the laptop screen.The initial surprise of seeing Maxwell Harrington in the old university library photograph was already huge. But as Ethan clicked through the rest of the folder, he realized the memory card contained much more than just five year old college assignments.Because it was a large, high capacity card, Ethan had reused it months later when he was working freelance jobs around the New York sports arenas. It contained thousands of raw photos and background files from various hockey events.Ethan scrolled down to the files recorded on the exact night of Adrian’s original scandal the night of the fake tavern incident that had started this whole nightmare.Near the end of the list was a short video file. Ethan did not remember taking it. It must have been an accidental recording, triggered when his camera was hanging from its strap around his neck while he was walking through the back exit corridors of the arena.Ethan clicked Play.

The ice rink inside the New York Titans training center was colder than usual.Every breath Adrian Hayes took came out as a thick cloud of white mist. The sound of sharp hockey skates cutting through the hard ice echoed through the giant, empty arena.CLACK!Adrian hit a black hockey puck with incredible force. It slammed into the top corner of the net, tearing through the mesh before dropping to the ice."Again!" Head Coach Miller shouted from the bench, blowing his metal whistle loudly. "Move faster, Hayes! You are slow on the turn! The Boston Ironclads play dirty and fast. If you lose your focus for even one second on Monday, they will destroy you!"Adrian did not say a word. He skated back to the center of the rink, sweat pouring down his face, dripping from his chin onto his black jersey. His lungs burned like fire, and his injured shoulder throbbed with a dull, heavy ache.The pressure on Adrian was immense. The entire sports world was watching his every move.The news channels

The cold rain continued to fall heavily outside the precinct station. Inside the bright, warm conference room, the air was thick with anger and frustration. Police officers were running back and forth, holding papers, shouting into desk phones, and typing fast on their computer keyboards. "How could he just fly out of the country?" Sophia asked, her voice sharp with anger as she slammed her leather folder down onto the wooden table. "He is one of the most famous team owners in the sports world! How did custom officers at the airport let him board a private jet?" The lead detective let out a long, tired sigh, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "Maxwell Harrington has billions of dollars, Sophia," the detective explained calmly, though his own face was tight with frustration. "He used a fake passport from a small island country, paid off two private airport workers in cash, and boarded a private jet three hours ago. By the time our federal arrest warrant was signed by the judge, his pla

Coach Miller stood behind his heavy wooden desk, his eyes locked on Adrian Hayes. The room was deathly quiet.Adrian took a slow step forward, looking his coach directly in the eye. His posture was tall, proud, and completely steady."Put me on the roster, Coach," Adrian said in a low, clear voice that echoed off the office walls. "I am playing tonight."Coach Miller’s eyes widened slightly. "Adrian... what about Dr. Vance? What about your shoulder?""I spoke with Dr. Vance an hour ago," Adrian explained calmly. "He helped me design a special tight shoulder brace that will lock the joint in place. It will limit my power, and it will hurt like hell, but it will keep the bone from popping out of place. I know the risks, Coach. But I am not walking away from my team on the night of the finals."Adrian stepped closer to the desk, resting his left hand on the dark wood."This is my last game," Adrian declared softly, a peaceful smile touching his face. "Win or lose, when the final buzzer s

The grand art gallery in downtown New York was ablaze with warm light, soft classical music, and the low, elegant murmur of two hundred wealthy guests.It was the final closing night of Ethan Brooks’s solo photography exhibition.Every single wall of the high ceilinged room was adorned with Ethan’s masterworks. There were breathtaking images of snow covered mountain peaks, dramatic city streets under rain, and, most prominent of all, raw, intimate portraits of Adrian capturing the hockey legend not as a brutal warrior on ice, but as a vulnerable, soulful man. Red tags hung beneath almost every frame, signaling that nearly every photograph had been purchased by private collectors for thousands of dollars.Adrian stood near a large marble pillar near the side of the main hall, holding a glass of sparkling water in his left hand. His right arm was still held securely in a sleek black sling beneath his dark suit jacket.He felt a heavy, distinct weight pressing against the left side of hi