Page 14 of Cold Carnage

But as I sat there, staring at the television screen, I couldn't shake the feeling that Paige was a threat. And I knew that I would have to do something about it, before it was too late.

"...out of Detroit, the Serpents have hired Paige Adams as an assistant GM," Mike said, his voice buzzing with excitement.

A picture of Paige flashed across the screen. She looked like fucking perfection, with blonde hair cascading in soft waves down to her shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkled with determination and intelligence. She wore a tailored blazer that fit her frame perfectly, exuding a blend of professionalism and approachability.

"That's right, Mike," Dave chimed in, adjusting his tie as he leaned forward. "Adams is known for her innovative strategies and strong leadership skills. This is a big move for the Serpents."

"Innovative strategies?" Mike chuckled, shaking his head. "Some say she's got some radical ideas that might just shake things up."

"Radical can be good," Dave countered, his eyebrows raised. "Especially for a team like the Serpents. They've been stuck in their ways for too long, and with Mathers' abrupt departure, the team needs it if they want to be even considered being a Cup contender this year."

I gritted my teeth, my grip tightening on the armrest of my recliner. The last thing we needed was someone coming in and disrupting everything.

"You think she'll be able to handle the pressure?" Mike asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

"She's got a solid track record," Dave replied confidently. "She turned things around for the Wolverines after a couple of scandals broke out. And she was only a college kid at the time. If she can bring that same energy here, who knows what she can achieve?"

"Well, she'll have her work cut out for her," Mike said, leaning back in his chair. "The Serpents aren't exactly known for their flexibility."

"True," Dave conceded with a nod. "But sometimes it takes an outsider to see what needs to change."

My jaw clenched as I listened to their discussion. They made it sound so simple, like she could waltz in and fix everything with a wave of her hand. But they didn't know the reality of our team dynamics, the intricacies of our relationships on and off the ice.

"We'll just have to wait and see how this plays out," Mike concluded, turning back to the camera. "But one thing's for sure—Paige Adams is going to make this season very interesting."

Dave nodded in agreement as they transitioned to another segment. I turned off the TV, frustration simmering beneath my skin. This wasn't going to be easy. Paige Adams was about to find out that stepping into our world required more than just a pretty face and good intentions.

But damn if she didn’t look like she belonged on that screen—poised and confident, ready to take on whatever came her way. I needed to stay sharp, not let her get under my skin any more than she already had.

I stood up from the recliner and wandered into the kitchen, my mind still buzzing with thoughts of Paige. The anger hadn't subsided, not entirely. I needed a distraction, something to keep my hands busy while I sorted through the tangled mess in my head.

I opened the fridge and pulled out some ingredients: eggs, spinach, cherry tomatoes. A quick omelet would do the trick. Despite it being the late afternoon, breakfast was something I could eat at any time.

I cracked the eggs into a bowl, whisking them with a practiced hand. The rhythm of the motion was almost soothing. I tossed the spinach and tomatoes into a hot pan, letting them sizzle before pouring in the eggs. The familiar smell of cooking filled the air, grounding me.

As I flipped the omelet, my phone buzzed on the counter. I wiped my hands on a towel and picked it up, glancing at the screen.

It was a text from Derek.

Bro, I didn't realize she dated your brother.

Fucking hell. Before I could tell him to stay on task, another text came in.

I think I found something. Give me another day to be sure.

I smirked, satisfaction curling in my chest. Derek was thorough; if he said he had something, then he had something. And that meant I was one step closer to getting rid of Paige.

I texted back quickly:

Good. The sooner we can handle this, the better.

Setting my phone aside, I turned back to the stove and folded the omelet onto a plate. The frustration that had gnawed at me earlier felt more manageable now, like I'd regained some semblance of control.

The kitchen fell silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. I took a bite of my omelet, savoring the mix of flavors—simple yet satisfying.

But it was nothing compared to the taste of what would be Paige's downfall.

Chapter 5

---