Page 224 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

“It should take effect quickly, as it’s fast-acting,” Hannah reveals, then offers me the pink bag she’s holding. “This is also yours.”

“Mine?” I’m confused because I’m sure I didn’t ask her to order anything, but looking in to see the familiar shades that represent Leighton’s team makes my eyes bug out. “No fucking way!”

I look up at Hannah in disbelief, surprised to see a hint of a smirk on her red lips.

“I noticed you eagerly trying to find a jersey with Matteo’s number. That one is the first and further customized. You’ll see when you wear it.”

“Hannah,” I whisper and can’t stop myself from quickly hugging her. I feel the tension immediately when I hug her and quickly release her. “S-Sorry! I forgot to ask if you like hugs, but goodness. Hannah, thank you! This means a lot to me!”

“I-I don’t…” She seems flustered for a moment and looks to the side as if to avoid my gaze. “I don’t mind hugs. Just warn me next time.”

“R-Really?” I offer and watch her slowly nod. “Can I give you one more hug?”

She looks my way once more, bobbing her head, which makes the red blindfold with dark black shimmering flakes glimmer under the light.

I hug her properly now, thankful to be helped by her.

We’ve barely gotten to see each other, let alone exchange words, but the fact she’s here, offering me this jersey when I’ve been spending weeks trying to search for it online, makes me realize she’s a girl-girl.

Also makes me realize encrypting my browser doesn’t do shit. Incognito mode, my foot.

“Get changed. I will accompany you to the VIP Suite and remain until the end of the games, so I can provide further security for Mr. Leighton after their victory.”

After their victory.

I love the sound of that.

34

HUMILIATION HAS A PRICE

~MATTEO~

“Shit, Matteo!”

The way I curse mid-air, realizing I’m fucking flying from the intense tackle that came out of fucking nowhere, encourages my body to lock in, bracing for impact.

When I crash into the floor, I’m positive something is broken.Or everywhere, because, fuck.My body is pulsing with pain. Doesn’t stop me from immediately trying to get up, quickly realizing my right arm isn’t working properly.

“Fuck. Matteo?” I realize Marcus is on my left, and I hear Zander cursing and being held back by a few of our teammates.

“It’s fine,” I grunt through gritted teeth, realizing I can feel my right fingers.Not like I haven’t felt this pain before.“We just need one more goal. I’ll put up with it.”

“You wanna lose your fucking arm?” Marcus hisses but seems to be covering me from the medical team that’s coming our way.

“I’ll get it fixed,” I huff, noticing the big screen and realizing it’s on Sweet Precious.

God, that woman is stunning, even with frightened eyes.

I doubt she realizes the camera is on her as she’s watching at the edge of the VIP seats, her hands covering her mouth to hide her agape expression.

What I do immediately notice is the jersey she’s wearing, seeing that it is not only decorated in various Swarovski crystals, but when she quickly turns around at the call of someone behind her, it shows my fucking number with LEIGHTON in big letters.

The key noticeable piece that even the camera zooms in on is the bedazzled bunny symbol, which is far too familiar to me. It’s decorated in my designated colors of black, red, and pink, further emphasizing this jersey is specially customized.

The announcer is going off about it, going with the rumors that there’s brewing romance between us and the idea of Prescott actually being my wife.

I smirk in hopes it hides the obvious pain that’s coursing through me.

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