Chapter 256 · My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires

Chapter 256

ARIA'S POVAnthony paused, his large hand still hovering just inches above his earpiece. His sharp, dark eyes scanned my face, searching for any sign of hesitation or fear.The protective aura radiating from him was palpable, a silent reminder that if I gave the word, Julian's father wouldn't even make it past the elevator bank."Are you absolutely sure about this, Miss Aria?" Anthony asked, his voice dropping into a low, cautious register. "The man is desperate. Desperate people do unpredictable things, and I don't care who his last name is—my only priority is keeping you breathing."I took a slow, deep breath, letting the residual warmth of the coffee cup seep into my palms. I could feel the invisible weight of Brandon's past as the phantom don hovering over this entire building, over the city itself, but right now, I needed to stand on my own two feet."I'm sure, Anthony," I said, my nod firm and unwavering. "Let him come in. But stay close.""Right behind you," Anthony murmured, stepping back to flank the left side of my desk, his posture shifting into a deceptively relaxed state that I knew could turn lethal in a fraction of a second.Chloe nodded quickly, her fingers flying across her tablet as she backed out of the room. A minute later, the heavy double doors of my office openedonce more.Older Mr. Vance walked in.Even with his multi-million dollar corporate empireactively burning to the ground on the global stock exchange, the man practically dripped with generational wealth and unyielding aristocratic pride.He was dressed in a pristine, charcoal-grey bespoke suit, his silver hair perfectly coiffed, and his posture rigidly upright.But if you looked closely enough, you could see the cracks. The slight tremor in his right hand, the subtle gray tint of exhaustion beneath his skin, and the wild, frantic glint in his eyes told a completely different story.He didn't look at Anthony. He kept his arrogant gaze locked entirely on me as he marched toward my desk."Aria," Mr. Vance began, his voice carrying the deep, booming authority of a man who was used to dictates rather than discussions.He didn't wait for an invitation to sit. He simply pulled out the leather chair across from me and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. "I'll cut straight to the chase. We need to talk about what is happening on the marketing floor right now. And more importantly, we need to talk about your boyfriend."I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands over my lap, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch. "If you're here to talk about the stock market, Mr. Vance, you've come to the wrong building. Vance Enterprises' financial problems have nothing to do with my company."A tight, bitter smile touched the older man's lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. His pride was an armor he refused to shed, even while bleeding out.“Don't play naive with me, young lady. We both know exactly what is happening. An hour ago, a massive institutional short-squeeze and a series of highly classified regulatory leaks hit our primary holdings. It’s an execution. And the man holding the axe is Victor Sterling—a man who answers directly to Brandon."He leaned forward, slamming his palm lightly against the wood of my desk, his aristocratic veneer slipping just enough to reveal the desperate predator underneath."Brandon is systematically dismantling my family's legacy, Aria. Everything I built, everything my father built, is being erased because of a personal dispute. I know Julian crossed a line yesterday. I know my son acted like an absolute fool in this very office, and believe me, he has been severely disciplined for it. But a corporate annihilation of this scale? Over a domestic disagreement? It's absurd. It's bad business."I felt a cold, sharp laugh bubble up in my throat, but I kept it locked behind my teeth. He called it a domestic disagreement. He called it bad business.He had no idea that he wasn't dealing with a businessman. He was dealing with a man who ruled the dark, a man who viewed a threat to his family as a declaration of total war."Mr. Vance," I said, my voice deadpan, chillingly calm. "Your son didn't just 'cross a line.' He put his hands on me. He threatened my daughter."Mr. Vance waved his hand dismissively, his deep-seated arrogance blinding him to the sheer danger he was in. "And as I said, Julian is being handled. He has been stripped of his executive privileges. But Brandon needs to call off his dogs. I don't care how much investment capital Brandon controls, he cannot simply erase the Vance name from this city without a fight."He paused, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored shirt, staring at me as if expecting me to pick up the phone and beg Brandon for mercy on his behalf."I came here because I assumed you were a reasonable woman, Aria. You run a major corporation. You understand numbers. Tell your man to back down. Give me Victor Sterling's terms, and we can settle this quietly, out of the public eye. Name your price for the damages Julian caused."Beside me, I heard the subtle rustle of Anthony's jacket as his muscles tensed. The room felt suddenly freezing. I looked at the older man sitting across from me, still wrapped tightly in his pride, completely unaware that the fire burning his house down wasn't something money could put out.I looked at the man sitting across from me, his tailored suit immaculate, his silver hair unruffled, yet completely hollow inside. The sheer entitlement dripping from his words made my stomach turn.He truly believed everything in this world could be resolved with a bank transfer and a signed non-disclosure agreement.A sharp, dangerous clarity settled over me. I remembered the custody threats, the legal notices, and the shadow that older Mr. Vance had cast over my life for months.He had backed Julian’s relentless pursuit to take Amelia away from me, using their family name like a weapon to try and rip my daughter from my arms.Now, the tables had turned. And he didn't even realize how weak his hand was. "Name my price?" I repeated, my voice dropping to a deceptively soft whisper. I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the desk, locking my eyes onto his.“Tell me, Mr. Vance... why on earth would I lift a single finger to talk to Brandon for you? Why would I help save your precious legacy when you and your son have spent the last few months actively trying to tear my life apart? You tried to take Amelia from me."Mr. Vance’s jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath his smooth skin. He looked at me, realizing for the first time that his corporate stature held absolutely no power in this room."That was... a misunderstanding, Aria," he said, his voice dropping into a tight, urgent hiss as he threw his hands up in a rare display of fractured composure."A legal strategy driven by Julian's stubbornness. If Brandon calls off Victor Sterling, I give you my word, Vance Enterprises will drop all claims. We will stay away from Amelia. You will have full, uncontested custody. She will effectively cease to exist to our family."The casual way he offered up his own granddaughter as a bargaining chip was sick. It was disgusting. But I kept my face an unreadable mask, playing the corporate chess game he thought he was winning."Is that so?" I murmured, tilting my head. "Let me ask you a question, Mr. Vance. Just so I'm completely clear on where we stand. Is your company really worth that much to you? Is Vance Holdings worth more than your own flesh and blood? More than Amelia?"Mr. Vance didn't even blink. The aristocratic pride in his eyes hardened into something entirely transactional, devoid of a single ounce of human warmth."Yes," he said bluntly, his voice cutting through the quiet office like ice. "Frankly, Aria, I don't care about Amelia. She is a bastard child born from a messy situation, and clearly, she has brought nothing but ruin to my doorstep since Julian became obsessed with her."He adjusted his lapels, leaning back in the leather chair as if he had just delivered a flawless closing argument."Julian is still young. His athletic career and his executive future can be rebuilt once this storm passes. He will find another woman from a proper family. In fact, he will always have another child, a legitimate heir, with Leonie. The girl is already staying at our penthouse, and her family's political connections are far more valuable to the Vance legacy than a child from you could ever be. So yes. The company is worth everything. Now, call Brandon."The silence that followed his words was deafening. Beside me, Anthony’s entire frame locked up, a low, lethal stillness settling over him.But I didn't look at Anthony. I just stared at the older Mr. Vance, a cold, ruthless smile slowly spreading across my lips.He had just handed me everything. He had confirmed exactly where Leonie was hiding, and more importantly, he had just proven that the Vance family didn't deserve a single ounce of mercy. They were rot. And Brandon was already cutting them out.Before I could respond, the heavy mahogany doors of my office didn't just open—they clicked and swung wide with a deliberate, heavy finality.Every ounce of air left the room. Brandon stepped inside.He was dressed in a dark, impeccable suit that made his massive, broad-shouldered frame look even more imposing. His coat was unbuttoned, revealing the slight, dangerous glint of a leather holster tucked against his ribs.The cold, crisp air of the outside world seemed to follow him in, turning the atmosphere instantly lethal. There was no warmth in his eyes, no trace of the businessman—only the terrifying, unyielding presence of The Phantom Don.Anthony didn't move a muscle, but his posture relaxed slightly, recognizing the alpha in the room.Mr. Vance stiffened in his chair, his silver head snapping around.His aristocratic pride faltered for a fraction of a second, his eyes widening as he stared at the man he had just been demanding I call."Brandon," he breathed, trying to force his voice back into a tone of senior authority. "You're supposed to be—""I apologize," Brandon interrupted, his deep, gravelly voice cutting through the space like a blunt blade. He didn't look at me yet, keeping his piercing, dark gaze locked entirely on the older man.He walked forward, his heavy dress shoes making no sound against the plush carpet, stopping just behind the chair Mr. Vance sat in.He leaned down slightly, placing one large, scarred hand flat on the back of Mr. Vance's chair, towering over him like a shadow. "But that's not going to work."

Chapter 256