Accueil / Romance / Deviant On The Ice / Chapitre 11 - Chapitre 20

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Campus Royalty

POV: MarloMy stomach was tied in tight, painful knots. The initials J.V. were still burned into the back of my eyelids.Jarrah Vance. The man walking three steps behind me through the crowded campus courtyard was the exact same man whose name was inked on the wire transfer that paid for my parents' deaths ten years ago.I wanted to turn around and scream at him. I wanted to pull the locket off my neck and throw it into his face but we were out in the open, surrounded by hundreds of students trudging through the slushy snow between lecture halls. Jarrah walked with his hands stuffed deep into the back pockets of his jacket, his eyes scanning the rooftops, the crowd, and every shadowed corner like a predator hunting in broad daylight.He didn't look at me. He didn't have to. I could feel his heavy, suffocating presence pressing against my back like a loaded gun."Marlo! Hey, scholarship girl!"A loud, mocking voice cut through the cold air.I stopped near the frozen fountain, standing

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-23

The Ice Rink Enforcer

MarloThe cold inside the ice arena was different from the freezing air outside. It was heavy, wet, and smelled like machine oil and damp rubber.I took the long way around the sports complex after my afternoon class, trying to avoid the main quad where Jarrah had nearly choked a man to death two hours ago. My hands were still shaking inside my hoodie pockets. My mind was spinning out of control. J.V. The initials on the murder contract kept flashing behind my eyes. Every shadow on campus felt like a person waiting to drag me into an alley.The hollow thud of a hockey puck slamming against thick glass echoed down the dim concrete corridor. I flinched, pulling my backpack tighter against my spine. I just wanted to get to my dorm, lock the door, and figure out my next move.A tall figure stepped out from the home team locker room, blocking the hallway completely.I stopped dead in my tracks.Cal O'Shea was leaning against the painted wall, a damp towel draped over his broad shoulders. H

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-24

Forced proximity

Marlo“I’m sorry, Marlo, but my hands are completely tied.”Mrs. Gable, the head coordinator of student financial aid, didn't even look up from her computer screen as she pushed a single piece of yellow paper across her cluttered desk.I stared down at the ink. My work study assignment the library front desk position that gave me twenty quiet hours a week to study and earn just enough cash for groceries had been officially canceled. In its place was a brand new assignment: Special Equipment & Facilities Assistant, Varsity Hockey Wing."There has to be a mistake," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve worked in the library for two years. I don't know anything about athletic equipment.""It came directly from the Dean of Athletics," Mrs. Gable replied, tapping her nails against her keyboard. "A private donor funded a specialized maintenance grant for the ice arena. They specifically requested you by name to fulfill the hours. If you turn it down, your work study grant is forfei

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-25

Bruises and Ink

MarloThe private VIP suite smelled like expensive leather, polished and stale champagne. It sat high above the north stands of the ice arena, separated from the stadium by a massive wall of glass.Down below, the varsity hockey team was running a closed, full contact practice session.Even up here, behind soundproof glass, the muffled thud of heavy bodies slamming into the wooden boards vibrated right through the soles of my shoes. Every bone crunching impact made my heart jump.I dipped the cloth into the warm bucket of soapy water and wiped down the leather seats. My reflection in the glass looked exhausted. The dark circles under my eyes were getting darker every day. I was living on three hours of sleep, constantly waiting for Siobhan’s men to jump me in an alley, or for Jarrah to drag me into another dark room.I was so tired of being afraid.From this angle, I had a perfect view of the entire rink.Down on the ice, the players were moving in fast, chaotic drills. Their dark red

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-26

The Burn Scars

MarloThe sharp crack of shattering glass still echoed in my ears as Jarrah tackled me to the floor. Glass rained down like heavy hail, stinging my cheeks and burying itself in the carpet around us. Before I could even scream, his massive arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me across the floor of the VIP suite and shoving me through the heavy service door into the stairwell.We hit the cold concrete stairs running.Jarrah didn't say a word. His hand was a vice grip around my wrist, pulling me down three flights of stairs into the arena. He slammed the heavy steel locker room door shut behind us, shoved the master lock into place, and backed us deep into the windowless room where no sniper scope could reach.The silence down here was deafening.My heart hammered against my ribs so hard my chest physically throbbed. I backed away from him until my knees hit one of the long benches. The police evidence tag the piece of paper identifying Cal O'Shea’s blood stained glove was crumpled tig

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-27

The Fire Truth

MarloMy knees hit the cold floor matting before my brain could even tell my legs to hold me up.I didn't hit the ground. Jarrah’s massive arms caught me before I collapsed, his rough, scarred hands pulling me flush against his bare chest. The heat coming off his skin was suffocating. I pressed my forehead against his collarbone, choking on a sob that had been trapped in my throat for ten long years.The locker room around us faded into nothing. The smell of bleach and damp equipment vanished, replaced entirely by the phantom stench of thick, black smoke, melting wallpaper, and burning pine.A bedroom in Melbourne.I remembered the heat. I remembered screaming until my throat bled as the wooden ceiling beams caved in around my small bed. I remembered a shadowed figure smashing through the bedroom window, his dark clothes caught on fire, his hands bleeding as he yanked me out of the inferno and carried me into the freezing night air.I had spent a decade believing that shadowed figure

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-28

Shadows in the Library

MarloMy eyes burned like someone had thrown sand in them. It was a dry, scratching kind of pain, the result of staring at yellowed paper under flickering lights for six straight hours.The Melbourne University archives were buried three floors underground. It smelled like decay down here. Like damp rot and forgotten things. Which was fitting, really, because that’s exactly what the people who ruined my family wanted us to be. Forgotten. Erased from the map as if we never existed.My chest felt tight. A heavy block of ice pressed against my lungs every time I turned a page. I hated this room. I hated the silence, I hated the dust, but most of all, I hated that this was all I had left of my parents. Piles of real estate transfers and maritime shipping registries. My father’s entire life, his sweat and tears, reduced to cheap ink and forgedMarloMy eyes burned, feeling like someone had rubbed crushed glass under my eyelids.I blinked hard, staring at the harsh glare of the laptop screen

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-29

The Protector’s Shadows

JarrahI sat in the dark backseat of my vehicle, watching the doors of the university library through the tinted glass. My knuckles were white where my hands rested on my knees.I had explicitly told her to stay in her apartment tonight. I had warned her that digging into those corporate records was getting dangerous. But Marlo never listened. She was too stubborn, too driven by the burning pain of what her family had lost. She thought she was invincible just because she understood how criminals thought.Then the library doors smashed open.Marlo stumbled out into the freezing night air. Her jacket was unbuttoned, her dark hair messy, and her face was as pale as a corpse. She didn't look at the stone steps beneath her feet. She kept looking wildly behind her, searching the shadows of the entrance as if something terrible was right on her heels.Panic cold, sharp, and sickening struck me straight in the chest.Before my driver could even ask, I threw the heavy door open and stepped out

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-30

The Secluded Estate

MarloI sat pressed against the seat, staring out the window as the city lights of Melbourne thinned into long, pitch black stretches of coastal highway. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the terrifying crack of rifle fire smashing into stone right behind my heels.Jarrah sat beside me in the dark. He hadn't said a single word since we left the city limits. His huge frame filled the backseat, radiating a heavy, suffocating heat that made the small space feel even tighter. His eyes were glued to the side mirror, watching every set of headlights that pulled onto the highway behind us.An hour later we reached.The SUV slowed as we turned off the main road onto a private drive winding down toward Port Phillip Bay. High stone walls loomed out of the fog on both sides, topped with thick black iron fencing. Up ahead, massive double gates blocked the road.As our headlights hit the entrance, a beam of harsh white light swept across the hood of the car. A ta

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-02

Rules of the House

MarloThe red dot on the security panel stopped blinking at exactly 3:14 AM.When Jarrah finally walked back through the front door, he smelled of wet earth, salt water, and the harsh, metallic bite of fired gunpowder. He didn't say a word. He just walked to the kitchen island, dropped a crushed, bullet riddled drone onto the marble counter, and locked the steel shutters again.Now, the morning sun was trying to peek through the tiny slits in the heavy metal blinds, casting long, grey shadows across the quiet house.I sat on a leather stool at the island, wrapping my cold hands around a mug of black coffee. I hadn't slept a single wink. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the flash of gunfire on the library steps, or the thick, twisted burn scars covering Jarrah's back.Heavy footsteps echoed against the marble floor. Jarrah walked into the kitchen wearing a fresh black t-shirt and grey track pants. His hair was still damp from a shower, falling over his forehead, but the dark circles

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-03

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