Page 9 of Cold Carnage

"Good morning," I began, projecting confidence I wasn’t sure I felt. "Thank you all for being here today."

A few polite nods answered back, but skepticism lingered in their eyes.

“Given recent changes,” one of them started, “what assurances can you provide regarding the team's stability?”

I met his gaze squarely. "With Gideon Strong's leadership, we're ensuring a seamless transition. Ms. Mathers is taking her role as future owner seriously and is planning to graduate Crestwood Academy early, and our focus remains unwavering on our performance both on and off the ice."

They exchanged glances, processing my words.

"And Richard Mathers?" another voice piped up. "What about his sudden exit?"

I took a breath. "Richard's departure was indeed abrupt, but it was necessary for the team's best interest. We are already seeing positive impacts from these changes."

Their questions came steadily after that, each probing deeper into the team’s direction and stability. I fielded them all with steady composure, laying out plans and strategies that Gideon had shared with me. The more I spoke, the more their skepticism seemed to ease.

One sponsor leaned back in his chair, arms crossed but expression softening. “It sounds like you’ve got things under control.”

"We do," I replied with conviction.

The meeting neared its end; tension dissipated like morning fog under the sun. Nods replaced furrowed brows; tentative smiles replaced pursed lips.

As I closed my portfolio and stood up, a small spark of triumph flickered inside me. I'd faced down their doubts and emerged with their tentative trust.

Just as I was about to wrap things up, the door swung open, and Leo Wolfe strolled in. His presence shifted the atmosphere—immediate, palpable, and slightly unsettling. Leo walked into the room with an effortless charm that drew every eye, his tailored suit fitting perfectly with the high-stakes ambiance. My professional mask stayed firmly in place, but I couldn’t help noticing how the sponsors relaxed as soon as he entered. Theyexchanged knowing glances and easy smiles. Clearly, they were familiar with Leo or rather, with his family.

The Wolfe name carried weight here. Everyone knew Leo’s family had deep ties to power and money, though few knew the full extent of those connections. It wasn’t something spoken about in public, but I’d heard whispers—stories of behind-the-scenes deals and long-standing agreements with influential figures like Richard Mathers.

Leo’s grin and friendly demeanor made him instantly likable, even though I sensed the calculated confidence behind his charm. He greeted the sponsors like old friends, his presence subtly shifting the balance of the room. What had been my moment of control now felt like it was slipping into something more complicated.

“Paige Adams, right?” Leo said, turning his attention to me with that same disarming smile. He offered his hand, his grip warm but firm.

I met it with equal professionalism, though I felt the undercurrents of something more. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he replied smoothly before turning back to the sponsors. “I see Paige has been handling things brilliantly. Just what this team needs. I'm sure my father will be happy to hear it. And with me as winger, we're practically guaranteed victory.”

A chorus of affirming murmurs filled the room.

“She’s been quite impressive,” one sponsor remarked.

Leo glanced at me with a twinkle in his eye. “Good to hear.”

The dynamic had shifted once again, but I stood my ground. “Thank you for your support,” I said to both Leo and the sponsors. “I look forward to working closely with all of you.”

Leo nodded approvingly before taking a seat at the table's end, instantly becoming part of the discussion as if he’d been there all along.

His entrance threw me off balance. He was just a player—what was he doing here, walking in like he owned the place? And his family, they weren’t just any family; they had roots deep in shady criminal organizations. I’d been told this was a straightforward sponsorship pitch, but with Leo here, things felt murkier. Unseen currents moved beneath the surface, and I wasn't sure what waters I was wading into.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ryker Kane standing at the back of the room. His arms were crossed, posture stiff, eyes locked on the interaction between Leo and me. His expression gave nothing away, but the tension radiating from him was almost tangible. It wasn’t just discomfort—it was sharper, more territorial.

Ryker had barely acknowledged my success during the previous meeting. But now, with Leo in the room, his focus had shifted intensely. It felt like he was sizing up a threat. I didn’t understand the full extent of Ryker’s reaction, but I sensed the shift in dynamics. Leo’s presence clearly bothered him, though whether it was about the sponsors, the shady connections, or something more personal, I couldn’t yet tell.

He leaned against the table casually, chatting with sponsors as if this were a social gathering rather than a high-stakes meeting. His charm seemed to smooth over any lingering doubts they had. Watching from the sidelines, my earlier triumph felt dulled by the realization that Leo’s influence ran deeper than I'd known. I had done my part, but there were layers to this world—layers I hadn’t fully peeled back yet.

The sponsors eventually started gathering their things, exchanging handshakes and polite farewells. Leo kept them engaged with light banter, each word further cementing his place in their good graces.

I turned to Ryker then, meeting his eyes for a brief moment. His jaw tightened slightly as he pushed off from where he stood and walked toward me.

"Adams," he said without preamble, his voice low and measured. "A word?"

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