Page 31 of Cold Carnage

The room buzzed with anticipation as the reporters fired off their questions. I took a step back, allowing Ryker to take the lead. His presence commanded attention, and I watched as he fielded the questions with his usual, unflappable demeanor.

"Mr. Kane," a reporter in the front row began, her voice steady but probing. "Do you think your leadership style contributed to the incident?"

Ryker's gaze locked onto hers, his expression unreadable. "Leadership isn't about preventing every mistake," he replied, his voice as cold as steel. "It's about how you respond when those mistakes occur. We address issues directly and take immediate action to rectify them."

Another hand shot up from a reporter in the middle of the room. "How do you plan to rebuild trust within the team after such a public incident?"

Ryker didn't miss a beat. "Trust is earned through consistent actions, not words," he said, his tone unwavering. "We are implementing measures to ensure better communication and conflict resolution. Our focus is on moving forward together."

The reporter nodded.

A third reporter leaned forward, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "Mr. Kane, can you elaborate on the new measures you're implementing?"

Ryker's eyes narrowed slightly, as if calculating the best way to respond. "Ms. Adams has already addressed them," he pointed out. "I won't be wasting time and rehashing what she's already stated."

I watched as the room absorbed his words, their pens scratching across their notepads. Ryker's answers were precise, almost surgical in their delivery. He left no room for doubt or further questioning.

As the reporters continued to bombard him with questions, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of admiration for him. Despite his cold exterior and calculated responses, there was an undeniable strength in his leadership.

"Question," a reporter called out, her voice cutting through the chatter. "Do you believe this incident will affect your performance on the ice?"

Ryker's gaze shifted to her, his expression unchanging. "Our focus remains on growth and unity," he repeated, his voice firm. "This incident will not define us. We will learn from it and come back stronger."

The room buzzed with energy as Ryker continued fielding questions with his usual stoic precision. I stood beside him, feeling a mixture of relief and exhaustion. The reporters’ relentless curiosity was beginning to wear on me, but I held my ground, determined to see this through.

A hand shot up from a male reporter near the back. His slicked-back hair and sharp suit gave him an air of arrogance that made me uneasy. He cleared his throat before speaking, his voice dripping with faux sincerity.

"Mr. Kane," he began, "how do you feel about having someone like Paige Adams here handling PR? It's refreshing to see someone so... charming and inexperienced bring a new perspective to the team."

The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. My stomach churned at the thinly veiled insult, but before I could react, Ryker stepped forward.

"Charming and inexperienced?" Ryker's voice was ice cold, his eyes narrowing as he fixed the reporter with a steely glare. "I suggest you choose your words more carefully."

The reporter shifted uncomfortably but managed a smug smile. "I only meant that her approach is different from what we're used to."

Ryker's expression hardened further, his jaw clenched tightly. "Paige Adams is not just charming and inexperienced. She is competent, dedicated, and far more capable than most people in this room give her credit for."

My heart raced at his unexpected defense. The reporters exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by Ryker's ferocity.

"Her strategies have already made a significant impact," Ryker continued, his voice rising slightly. "So unless you have something constructive to add about her professional abilities, I'd advise you to keep your condescending remarks to yourself."

The reporter's smug smile faltered, replaced by a look of genuine discomfort. He mumbled an apology before quickly sitting down.

Ryker turned back to the crowd, his expression still stormy. "We are done here," he declared, his tone brooking no argument.

As we stepped away from the podium, I felt a strange mixture of gratitude and confusion. Ryker had defended me with an intensity I hadn't expected—an intensity that left me both flattered and unsettled.

We made our way off the stage together, the murmurs of the press fading into the background. I stole a glance at Ryker as we walked side by side, trying to decipher the enigma that was him. But for now, I was just grateful for his support in a moment when I needed it most.

"Thank you," I murmured, the words barely escaping my lips.

He scoffed, his eyes flicking to mine with disdain. "I didn't do that for you," he said, his voice low and cutting. "We're part of the same team, remember? Even if I don't like you, and I actually agree that you are inexperienced, that doesn't mean some low-tier blogger is allowed to say those things about you, especially in this setting."

I blinked, the sting of his words mingling with the strange sense of gratitude still lingering in my chest. Before I could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, his broad shoulders cutting through the lingering crowd of reporters.

I watched him go, a swirl of conflicting emotions churning inside me. Gratitude for his unexpected defense. Annoyance at his abruptness and blunt critique. Maybe both.

As he disappeared around the corner, I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. There was no time to dwell on Ryker Kane’s complicated nature or his motives. We had weathered the press conference together, and that was enough for now.

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