Chapter 216

JULIAN'S POV

The buzzing of my phone on the nightstand felt like a jackhammer drilling directly into my skull. I groaned, rolling over, my entire body aching from a brutal hangover and the lingering soreness from Brandon’s fists.

I blinked against the harsh morning light and grabbed the phone. It was my father. "What?" I rasped, my voice thick and dry.

"Julian," my father’s authoritative voice boomed through the speaker, completely ignoring my rough state.

"After your hockey practice today, you need to head straight to the main estate. There is a high-profile real estate acquisition deal happening this afternoon, and you need to be present for it."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, a sharp pain throbbing behind my eyes. "Dad, I already told you, I stepped back from the corporate world for now. I am focusing entirely on the team until my hockey career is solid again. I can't handle boardroom meetings right now."

"It doesn't matter what you stepped back from," my father snapped, his tone freezing over. "You are still the Vance heir, Julian, and it is about time you started acting like it. Be at the estate by three o'clock."

"Fine. I'll be there," I muttered, slamming the phone down on the mattress. As I forced myself to sit up, a shadow fell over me.

I looked up to see Leonie standing beside the bed, holding a small silver tray. She quietly stepped forward and set it down on the nightstand.

I scanned the contents. It was a couple of painkillers, a tall glass of ice water, and a steaming mug of black coffee.

"I didn't want to wake you," Leonie said softly, her voice entirely calm and pleasant, as if I hadn't screamed at her to pack her things just a few nights ago.

"I'm leaving to go spend the day with my family, but I wanted to make sure you had these before I left. Please take the pills, Julian. You look terrible."

I just stared at her, my jaw tight, waiting for the catch.

"Also," she continued, smoothing down her coat, "your barber is waiting for you downstairs. I called him over to give you a trim before you head out to the ice rink."

The sheer normalcy in her behavior made me uneasy, but I was too exhausted to fight her. "Okay," I muttered.

Leonie gave me a small, satisfied nod. "Have a great day, Julian." With that, she turned and walked out of the bedroom, the door clicking softly behind her. I stared at the tray for a long moment, my chest tightening with a mix of irritation and exhaustion.

Finally, I reached over, popped the painkillers into my mouth, and washed them down with the cold water before grabbing the mug of coffee.

True to her word, when I made my way downstairs, my personal barber was already waiting for me in the sitting room. I sat in the chair silently, letting him clean up my rough edges and trim down the messy hair that had been falling into my eyes.

Once he finished and left, I went back upstairs, stripped down, and took a long, freezing-cold shower. The icy water shocked my system, finally washing away the last remnants of the alcohol. I got dressed in my athletic gear, grabbing my duffel bag and hockey sticks.

My stomach let out a loud, angry growl. I hadn't eaten a single solid meal in two days, and I was absolutely starving. I headed down to the kitchen, quickly whipped up a heavy breakfast of eggs and toast, and began inhaling the food at the kitchen island.

Halfway through my meal, my phone rang again. I glanced at the screen and saw it was Sebastian, one of my teammates. "Yeah, Seb?" I answered, keeping the phone pressed to my ear while chewing.

"Julian, where are you?" Sebastian asked, his voice laced with urgent excitement. "You need to get down to the rink right now. The coach just called an emergency meeting before practice starts. The scouts from the major leagues are coming to watch us play today."

My hand froze, a piece of toast halfway to my mouth. "We have a huge game coming up, man," Sebastian continued quickly. "This is the big one that will push us straight into the finals. The coach says the scouts are looking at you specifically. Don't be late."

"I'm on my way," I said instantly, the hunger in my stomach suddenly replaced by a surge of pure adrenaline. "Tell Coach I'll be on the ice in twenty minutes."

I hung up, shoveled the last bite of food into my mouth, grabbed my gear, and stormed out to my car. I couldn't mess this up.

Hockey was the only thing I had left that felt entirely mine. If I performed well today, I could salvage my career and get my life back on track.

I started the engine and tore down the driveway.

But as I navigated through the morning traffic, my thoughts involuntarily drifted back to Aria. The image of Brandon's hands on her, the memory of his fists colliding with my face—it burned through me like a fever.

I glanced at the dashboard clock. I still had about thirty minutes before I would technically be late for the pre-practice meeting.

A dark, reckless impulse took over my hands. Before I could talk myself out of it, I swung the steering wheel around, reversed down a side street, and changed direction. I headed straight toward Aria’s neighborhood.

Ten minutes later, I pulled up near her house. I carefully parked my sports car in a secluded spot, partially hidden beneath the shade of a large oak tree down the block.

I kept the engine idling quietly, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. I waited, my eyes glued to her front door.

Soon enough, the heavy wooden door swung open. My breath hitched in my throat as Brandon stepped out onto the driveway. He looked perfectly put together, radiating power and arrogance in a tailored suit.

A second later, Aria walked out beside him, holding Amelia's small hand.

I watched from the shadows as the three of them moved toward Brandon's car. Amelia was giggling, swinging her arms, while Brandon leaned down to say something that made Aria break into a bright, beautiful smile.

It was the kind of smile she used to give me years ago. Brandon wrapped a possessive arm around Aria's waist, pulling her flush against his side, before opening the car door for her like a perfect gentleman.

They looked radiant under the morning sun. They looked like a complete, picture-perfect family.

A suffocating wave of jealousy and rage crashed over me, making it hard to breathe. That should be me, I thought, the anger burning so hot it tasted like ash in my mouth. That is my daughter. That is my woman.

I sat there in the quiet of my car, forced to watch the woman I loved and the child who carried my blood smile as if I didn't even exist.

I watched Brandon’s car pull out of the driveway, followed immediately by two sleek black SUVs. Bodyguards. The realization that he had my family surrounded by a mini-army made my stomach turn.

I slammed my hands against the steering wheel, finally turning the key to start my own engine. I threw the car into drive and sped off toward the arena.

All through the drive there, my mind was a chaotic mess of Amelia and Aria. How could they look so comfortable around another man? How could Aria let him play father to our daughter?

Sure, I had fucked up in the past, but it was one mistake. People moved past mistakes. Aria was being completely unreasonable, punishing me like this, and I was going to make her see that.

My hands shook against the steering wheel, and my body practically itched for a drink. I desperately wanted to pull over at a liquor store and down a bottle just to numb the throbbing in my head, but I forced the urge down.

I couldn't let myself get drunk now. Not today. This upcoming game was everything. A dark thought crossed my mind. It was a reckless, desperate fantasy.

What if I just took them? What if I kidnapped Aria and Amelia, threw them into a private jet, and vanished to a different country where nobody could find us?

But reality crashed in quickly, turning the thought to ash. It wouldn't work. Brandon was on a completely different level of wealth. His empire swallowed the Vance family fortune whole.

If I ran, his tech, his lawyers, and his men would track us down within hours. I couldn't outrun him physically. No, I had to be smarter. I needed to do something that would destroy them from the inside.

I needed to make Aria completely hate Brandon. If she despised him, she would have no other option but to come crawling back to me. My mind replayed the kiss from yesterday morning over and over again.

When I had trapped her in the dining room, her lips had tasted exactly the way I remembered. Sweeter than anything. It cut through me like a knife knowing she was giving that sweetness to Brandon now.

But it didn't matter. Once she was mine again, I would lock her down. I would make sure she never went anywhere else. I finally pulled into the arena parking lot, grabbed my gear bag, and walked inside.

When I entered the locker room, our coach looked up, completely surprised to see me early for once. Across the room, Sebastian spotted me and waved me over to the benches.

I kept my mouth shut, sitting down to pull on my heavy ice hockey gear. I strapped on my shin guards, stepped into my skates, laced them tight, and secured my shoulder pads before grabbing my gloves and helmet.

Stepping out onto the cold, familiar ice, the sharp chill hit my face, finally clearing some of the fog from my brain.

Seb skated over to me, a grin on his face. "Damn, Julian. Look who actually made it early."

I just smirked, adjusting my gloves. "The captain had to be here, didn't he? Can't let you guys slack off."

Seb chuckled, leaning on his stick. "Good. Because we just heard some massive news. Word is, there's a billionaire backing this whole scout visit. Whoever the scouts choose, this guy is going to fully sponsor the entire team's run to the finals and beyond. We have to play out of our minds today."

I let out a mocking scoff, skating in a small circle. "Sponsorship? Please. If it's just about money, I can easily write a check to handle everything we need."

Seb shook his head. "It's not just about the cash, man. The costs for the finals aren't even that high. It's the connection. This billionaire is apparently a very close personal friend of the head of the scout team. If he signs off on us, the scouts will fast-track our names to the major leagues. It's a guaranteed ticket to the top."

I nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "Alright. Let's get it then." Our coach blew his whistle, calling us to the center.

He gave us a fierce, quick briefing, shouting about discipline, playing hard, and showing the scouts exactly why we deserved to be in the finals. Once he finished, the whistle blew again, and practice officially started.

We ran our drills, the ice spraying beneath my blades as I drove myself forward. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the heavy glass doors at the top of the arena stands open.

A small group of figures in expensive long coats walked into the VIP viewing section. The scouts.

Seeing them, something shifted inside me. I played like my absolute life depended on it.

I slammed into my teammates during defense drills, moved the puck with lethal precision, and scored three consecutive goals during the scrimmage. I was going to prove I was still the best.

After a grueling hour, Coach blew the final whistle. "Alright, bring it in! Line up on the blue line!" We formed a straight, disciplined line on the ice, our breathing ragged, helmets tucked under our arms.

The heavy metal gate to the rink opened, and the scout members walked out onto the black rubber matting laid over the ice.

The coach stood at the front, a proud smile on his face as he turned to us. "Boys, I want to introduce you to the head of the scouting committee, Mr. Henderson, and our potential team sponsor, Mr. Brandon.”

My heart stopped. Standing right there on the ice, dressed in a flawless grey overcoat, stood Brandon.

His dark eyes swept over the line of hockey players, entirely unbothered by the freezing temperature of the arena.

He looked incredibly powerful, a calm, mocking smirk playing on his lips the moment his gaze locked directly onto my frozen face. He was the billionaire that Seb was talking about.