Todos los capítulos de Shared by the Three Captains: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

CassandraI got to the arena facility before the sun even thought about showing up. The place smelled like ice and old sweat and that sharp cleaner they used on the boards. My bag felt heavy on my shoulder but I didn’t care. Hendrix’s threats from the night before still sat in my chest like a rock. He wanted to break me. Portia wanted to watch. Fuck that. I wasn’t breaking for anyone.I dumped my laptop and notebooks on the long table in the strategy room and pulled up the power-play footage from the last three games. Same stale patterns. Same predictable entries. The defensive squad always knew where the puck was going because our guys kept running the same tired lanes. Elijah’s slapshot was a weapon, but they boxed him in every time. Chase got hemmed in on the boards. Karius had to fight for every inch of net-front space.I started sketching.Spatial overload. That was the whole idea. Flood one side of the offensive zone with three bodies so the defense had to overcommit, then snap

CassyThe whispers started before I even reached the athletic department hallway. Soft at first, then sharper, like knives sliding under doors. Students and staffers glanced at me, then away, then back again with that same hungry look people get when they smell blood. I kept my chin level and my steps steady. Oversized hoodie, thick tortoiseshell glasses, ponytail a little messier than usual because I hadn’t slept. None of it mattered. They already had their story.Hendrix had marched in first thing with his precious photos. Word traveled faster than a breakaway on clean ice.Coach Jimenez’s office door was open. I stopped just inside the threshold.Hendrix stood near the desk, arms crossed, gold watch catching the fluorescent light like he wanted everyone to notice it. Portia sat in the chair beside him, one ankle crossed over the other, a fresh white bandage wrapped around her left wrist. Her platinum hair was perfect. Her red lips trembled on cue. Fake tears already glassed her col

CassandraThe yacht cut through the dark water like it owned the ocean. Wind pushed against my face, warm and salty, and for the first time in weeks my shoulders dropped. No cameras. No Portia. No whispered lies trailing me across campus. Just open sea, the low hum of the engines, and three men who had decided I needed air more than I needed to keep fighting.Elijah stood at the rail beside me, one hand resting on the small of my back like it belonged there. Chase leaned on my other side, fingers hooked in the belt loop of my shorts, thumb stroking slow circles against my hip. Karius stayed a step behind, arms crossed over his massive chest, watching the horizon like something might come for us even out here.“Feel that?” Chase murmured against my ear. “No drama. Just us.”I nodded, throat tight. “I didn’t know how heavy it all was until it stopped.”Elijah’s voice came low and sure. “That’s why we brought you. No more campus noise. Just breathe.”Karius stepped closer, the heat of hi

CassyI waited until the penthouse went quiet.Mrs. Mori had gone to bed hours ago. Elijah’s door stayed shut. Karius’s room was dark. I slipped out of my own bed in bare feet, heart slamming so hard I thought the walls might hear it. The oversized hoodie I pulled on still smelled like laundry soap and a little like Chase’s cologne from the last time he stole a hug in the kitchen. I shoved my phone and the key card he left under my pillow into the front pocket, then eased the front door open like it might scream on me.The private elevator took forever. Every floor that lit up made my stomach twist tighter. When the doors finally opened onto the rooftop garden of the Grand Marquis, the night air hit me cold and clean. City lights stretched out forever beneath the glass walls, a glowing map of everything that wasn’t this moment.Chase was already there.He stood by a small table set with white candles and a silver ice bucket. Two champagne flutes waited empty. The flames flickered agai

CassyI barely made it three steps into the penthouse before Elijah’s hand locked around my wrist.His grip was iron. Not painful, but absolute. The kind of hold that said he had already decided what was going to happen and I was coming with him whether I liked it or not.“Elijah—”He didn’t answer. He just pulled me down the long hallway toward the study, the one room none of us entered without knocking. His private space. The heavy mahogany doors loomed ahead. He shoved one open, dragged me inside, and kicked it shut behind us. The lock clicked with a soft, final sound that made my stomach drop.I spun to face him. “What the hell—”“You snuck out.” His voice was low, controlled, and colder than the ice he skated on. “With Chase. Alone. For hours.”My heart slammed against my ribs. “It wasn’t—”“Don’t.” He stepped closer. Six-foot-three of pure dominance in a black silk shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Jet-black hair perfect. Ice-blue eyes locked on mine like he was hunti