Page 57 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

Vincent smirks, glancing at me. “Everything, sweetheart.”

“Why are you two enjoying this?!” I hiss, looking back at the ice. The refs are pulling Damien and his teammate apart, both of them still snarling like feral animals.

“Because,” Cast says, “this is hilarious. And honestly, long overdue.”

One of the refs skates over to the benches and gestures toward the penalty box. “Impromptu timeout for number 12,” he announces, his tone annoyed.

“Impromptu timeout?” I echo, looking between Cast and Vincent.

“Don’t worry about it, Princess. You can go check on him after the game,” Vincent laughs, kissing my cheek.

I barely have time to register Vincent’s kiss on my cheek before he’s whistling loudly, drawing attention from the nearby fans. It’s almost like he’s enjoying the chaos unfolding on the ice a little too much.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, glancing back toward Damien in the penalty box, the fire still burning in his eyes. But despite the chaos of the game, I can’t help but feel a sense of nervous excitement swirling in my stomach. The crowd's energyis infectious, and a part of me is almost starting to enjoy this twisted game they’re playing.

Suddenly, the stadium’s lights dim, and the big screen overhead flashes to life, cutting away from the game to the audience. The crowd goes wild when they see the familiar kiss cam graphic. I freeze, feeling my heart leap into my throat.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, suddenly wishing for the ground to swallow me whole.

Vincent seems to read the panic in my eyes and laughs softly. "Relax, sweetheart. Just play along."

Before I can protest, he pulls me into his side, wrapping his arm around my shoulders possessively. Cast, ever the instigator, elbows him and grins at me. “We’ve got this.”

The kiss cam zooms in on us, and the crowd erupts into cheers. But then, to my utter surprise, Vincent stands up suddenly, making an exaggerated bow before me.

“Willow, my darling,” he announces, loud enough for the entire stadium to hear. “Will you go to prom with me?”

I blink, stunned, my heart racing as I stare at him. Cast, not missing a beat, pulls out a single rose from behind his back, handing it to me as he dramatically drops to one knee.

“We’ve got the limo, the tux, and all the flair you could ever want,” Cast says with a wink. “What do you say?”

The crowd is practically vibrating with excitement, shouting, laughing, and egging me on. Vincent grins like the devil himself, eyes alight with amusement. It’s all too much to process at once, and my mind scrambles for words.

“Are you serious?” I ask, laughing in disbelief but with a fluttering feeling in my chest.

Vincent’s smirk only deepens, and he leans closer to me. “I wouldn’t joke about this, sweetheart.”

I swallow hard, feeling my heart race. How the hell did I get pulled into this whirlwind? My thoughts barely have time to process before the entire stadium starts chanting my name, urging me to answer.

“Yes,” I breathe, feeling like I’m dreaming. “Yes, I’ll go to prom with you.”

Vincent’s smile is triumphant as he pulls me into a kiss, right there in front of the whole stadium. The crowd roars, and my head spins. The kiss is brief but intense, a spark of something electric igniting between us.

When we finally pull away, my heart is hammering in my chest.

“I knew you’d say yes,” Vincent whispers against my lips, his hand gently cradling my face. “You’ve always belonged to me.”

I don’t know what to think about that, but for now, all I can do is smile, trying to steady my breathing while the crowd continues to cheer.

____________________

After the game, the crowd slowly starts to dissipate, I stand up from my seat, still reeling from the chaotic kiss cam stunt. The stadium lights flicker back to full brightness, and the announcer’s voice fills the air. Cast gives me a quick nod, his expression a mix of mischief and approval.

“Go wait outside the locker room for Damien, Willow,” Cast says, his voice smooth but commanding. “We need to make sure Damien stays on track after all the drama.”

I nod, still processing everything that just happened, and make my way down the narrow hallway toward the locker rooms, my boots clicking against the floor in rhythm with my thoughts. The adrenaline from the game, the chaos, the kiss—it's all crashing down around me in a dizzying rush. My mind is spinning, unsure of what to focus on next.

As I walk toward the entrance, I hear voices ahead of me. Damien’s voice, low and angry, followed by the sharp, clipped tone of Isabel.

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