Page 28 of Cold Carnage

"You just… take it," I said. "I'm rude. I interrupt you. Why don't you fight back?"

"I did," she said. "When I slapped you."

"So, call you a slut and you'll assault me?" I asked.

Paige paused for a moment, considering my question. "Hmm, one would think you're trying to get a reaction out of me so you can try to fire me," she said with a teasing sparkle in her eyes.

My heart flipped, and I scowled. "That's not it," I said, feeling defensive.

She leaned back in her chair. "Well, whatever the reason, I'm here to do my job. And part of that job is dealing with difficult personalities."

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at her words. "And you think I'm a difficult personality?" I asked flatly.

For a moment, her eyes hardened before the expression disappeared. "I've dealt with much worse," she said with a shrug. "You're protective of your team. I get that. And I'm an outsider, and I have to earn your respect."

I clenched my teeth, hating that I was actually curious about her life, about what she could mean by that. And why the hell I was so damn protective over someone I was sure I hated.

"Do I wish you were less... abrasive?" she continued, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Sure. But your heart is in the right place."

I couldn't help but feel a flicker of surprise at her words. It was the first time anyone had ever accused me of having a heart, let alone one that was in the right place.

"I've dealt with people whose... well, let's just say their hearts were not in the same place," she added, her voice taking on a serious tone.

I found myself wanting to ask her more, to find out what she meant by that. Was this her defense of why she humiliatedBrendan, doing what she did? But before I could say anything, she stood up and gathered her papers.

"I should get going," she said, her tone back to its usual professionalism. "I'll see you at the press conference."

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of emotions. I hated that she had gotten under my skin, that she had made me question myself. But at the same time, I couldn't deny that there was something about her I found intriguing.

As I watched her walk out of the office, I couldn't help but wonder what else she was hiding. And why I cared so much.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I had a press conference to prepare for, and I couldn't afford to be distracted.

But as I went over the talking points Paige had given me, I couldn't help but think about what she had said. And I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. This was going to be a long day.

I stoodin the locker room, buttoning up my collared shirt. The mirror in front of me reflected a face etched with tension, lines deepening as I fumbled with the buttons. The press conference loomed ahead, and all I wanted was to get it over with.

I glanced down at my attire—a crisp, white dress shirt that stretched across my shoulders, the fabric almost too tight from hours spent in the gym. My fingers brushed against the silver cufflinks engraved with my initials. They’d been a gift from my father, a reminder of expectations I could never escape.

A navy blue suit jacket hung on the back of the chair beside me. I slid it on, feeling its weight settle on my frame. It was tailored to perfection, just like everything else in my life neededto be. The matching trousers fit snugly around my waist and legs, creases sharp enough to cut through glass. I straightened the collar and adjusted my tie—a deep burgundy silk that contrasted starkly with the white of my shirt.

I took a step back to examine the full picture in the mirror. The image reflected someone who appeared calm and composed, a man who had everything under control. But beneath the surface, anxiety gnawed at me, threatening to unravel the facade I’d worked so hard to maintain.

My polished black leather shoes gleamed under the fluorescent lights, each step echoing against the tiled floor as I paced briefly. A glance at my watch told me it was time to head out, but something held me back for a moment longer.

Dominic strolled in, hockey stick resting casually on his shoulder. His smirk could cut through steel. "Looking sharp, Kane. Dressing up for someone special?"

"Yeah," I shot back, "your mom."

Dominic chuckled, shaking his head. "Touché."

I turned back to the mirror. The image staring back at me felt foreign. A mask of control, but beneath it, chaos churned. My fingers hesitated on the last button.

"Ready for the circus?" Dominic's voice broke through my thoughts.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I muttered.

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