Chapter 220

BRANDON'S POV

The quiet of the living room was a stark, welcome contrast to the freezing, chaotic tension of the arena.

The low hum of the television played in the background, casting soft shadows across the walls, but neither of us was really watching it.

Aria sat curled up beside me on the sofa, her shoulder brushing against mine, radiating a warmth that instantly settled the lingering restlessness in my chest.

Sprawled across my lap, fast asleep, was Amelia. One of her small hands was loosely gripping the fabric of my trousers, her breathing deep and even as she slept peacefully.

She had been the one who insisted we watched a movie after we had done her assignments for the day. After finishing the bucket of popcorn we had made, she fell asleep before the movie even started.

I kept one hand resting gently on her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest. It was a fiercely protective feeling, holding her like this, knowing that outside these walls, storms were raging, but inside, I had them completely shielded.

Aria shifted slightly, turning her head to look at me.

The soft light caught the gentle curve of her jaw, her eyes searching mine with that quiet, intuitive softness she only ever showed to me.

"How was your day?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper so she wouldn't disturb the little princess sleeping between us.

I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a slow breath. "It was alright. Slipped away from the office work for a bit to check on the hockey team's progress. There's a massive game coming up in two days."

Aria looked at me, a flicker of recognition passing through her eyes, though she carefully kept her expression neutral. "The one Henderson approached you about?"

"The very one," I murmured, my thumb tracing a small circle on Amelia's back. "It’s the final evaluation. If they win this match, my legal team will finalize the complete sponsorship contracts. It’s the gatekeeper game for their final run."

Aria fell silent for a moment, her gaze dropping to her hands. We both knew who was on that ice, but

we were past the point of dancing around it.

"Julian is a good hockey player," she said softly, her tone entirely objective, devoid of any lingering emotion. "He always has been. It’s the one thing he actually poured everything into."

"I know he is," I replied, my voice deep and even. I had no reason to lie or let jealousy cloud my judgment. In business and in war, underestimating your opponent is the first step toward defeat.

"Aside from the personal history with Julian, the team itself is remarkable. They are easily one of the best in the country. Their synergy on the ice is flawless."

I leaned my head back against the cushion, looking out toward the darkened window. "And as much as I hate to admit it, Julian is a good captain. He knows how to command the ice. He has the drive."

Aria’s head snapped up, a look of pure surprise breaking through her features. A small, amused smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she nudged my arm. "Are you actually praising Julian now, Brandon?"

I let out a low, dark chuckle, turning my head to lock my eyes onto hers. The smirk on my face was entirely dangerous. "No. I'm assessing an asset, my queen. Recognizing his skill on the ice doesn't change the fact that if he steps out of line personally, I’ll crush him without a second thought.

I can acknowledge a man's talent while simultaneously planning his ruin if he touches what's mine."

The amusement in Aria's eyes deepened, a soft flush creeping up her neck at the possessive edge in my voice. She leaned her head against my shoulder, her hand resting flat against my chest.

"You really are terrifying sometimes."

"Only to the people who deserve it," I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. The silence stretched between us again, comfortable and grounding. I looked back down at Amelia, then back to Aria.

If Julian thought he could use this game to prove something to her, to win back some shred of her respect from the sidelines, I was going to shut that down completely.

I wanted him to look up from the ice and see exactly who was holding his world in the palm of his hand. "The game is in two days," I said quietly, my hand sliding over to cover hers. "Will you come with me?”

Aria kept quiet for a long moment, her eyes dropping to Amelia’s sleeping form. I could see the faint flicker of hesitation in her gaze—the natural reluctance to put herself back in Julian’s orbit, even from the safety of a VIP box.

But then, her jaw set with that quiet resolve I loved so much. She looked up and met my eyes. "Yes. I'll go with you."

I nodded, satisfied. "Good. Amelia will stay here with her nanny for the evening. There's no need to expose her to the chaos of the arena."

"Okay," Aria agreed softly, leaning over to gently smooth a stray lock of hair from her daughter's forehead. She let out a quiet breath, then shifted slightly on the cushions, looking at me with a more focused expression.

"You should probably drop Amelia into her bed now. I need your help with those documents we talked about earlier."

"Of course," I murmured. Carefully, so as not to break her peaceful slumber, I slid my arms under Amelia’s small body and lifted her into my chest.

She let out a tiny, soft sigh, her head rolling against my shoulder, but she didn't wake. I stood up from the sofa and carried her down the hall to her bedroom.

The room was softly lit by her nightlight, casting a warm, safe glow over her covers. I laid her down gently, pulled the blankets up to her chin, and pressed a quiet kiss to her forehead before slipping back out and closing the door behind me.

When I walked back into the living room, Aria had already cleared a space on the table, spreading out several legal folders and document packets.

I walked over, folding my sleeves a bit as I stood beside her chair, looking down at the paperwork. "Alright, my queen," I said, resting a hand on the back of her seat as I leaned in. "Let's see what we're dealing with.”

We moved from the dining table into her study, the quiet night wrapping around the room as we dove headfirst into the fine print.

Hour after hour passed in a steady rhythm of rustling paper, the low hum of my explanations, and the scratch of her pen making notes in the margins.

I sat beside her, breaking down the complex clauses and hidden liabilities with the sharp precision I applied to my own empire, ensuring her interests were flawlessly protected.

By the time we reached the final stack of folders, the digital clock on the desk flickered to almost midnight. Aria suddenly stopped mid-sentence, letting out a soft, exhausted yawn.

She rubbed her eyes, her shoulders dropping as the sheer fatigue of the long day finally caught up to her. I gently reached over, closing the folder she was holding and pulling the pen from her fingers.

"That's enough for tonight," I said, my voice low and commanding but laced with a deep warmth. "Get some sleep, Aria. You've done more than enough."

A soft, beautiful smile broke through her tired expression. Instead of arguing, she leaned over, wrapping her arms loosely around my neck, and pressed a tender, lingering kiss against my cheek.

"Thank you, Brandon," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep as she pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. "We can check the rest of the documents later. Come to bed?”

I let out a low, dark smirk, my eyes locking onto hers with sudden intensity. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Aria?"

She didn't back down. A playful, wicked little smirk of her own touched her lips as she tilted her head up, her eyes flashing with a spark of challenge. "And what if I am?"

That was all the invitation I needed. I stood up from the desk chair in one fluid motion. Before she could even gasp, I leaned down and scooped her up into my arms, lifting her effortlessly against my chest.

A beautiful, melodic giggle slipped from her lips as she instinctively wrapped her arms around my neck to steady herself. I looked down into her eyes, the exhaustion completely vanishing from my mind, replaced by a fierce, protective hunger.

"Then let's get you to bed, my Queen," I murmured, my voice deep and entirely possessive.

Holding her tightly against me, I walked out of the study and down the darkened hallway, completely leaving the rest of the world and any thought of Julian Vance outside our door.