Page 91 of Dirty Play

Ares straightens, stepping back. His job is done.

“See?” I smirk and push off the table. “Was that so hard?”

Christina doesn’t respond.

I glance over at Damien, who grins. Ares claps me on the shoulder before moving toward the door. The rest of the guys are watching us like this is the most interesting blockbuster of the year. I motion for them to stand up. Chairs start scraping as they rise to their feet, one by one, and head for the door. Just as I’m about to follow, I turn back to Christina one last time.

“Oh,” I add, flashing my teeth, mocking as fuck, “make sure Livia gets a raise.”

And with that, we all walk out.

Chapter twenty-three

~LIVIA~

I arrive at the Panthers’ headquarters, heart pounding like a drum solo at a rock concert. I mean, yesterday, Christina called me out of the blue, telling me to come to the office, but she didn’t bother explaining why. That’s not exactly a confidence booster. I’ve been in the process of clearing out my place, so a call was the last thing I expected unless there are more documents to be signed, where they hand me my final pink slip along with adon’t let the door hit you on the way out.Fun, right?

As I step through the glass doors, I take a deep breath. I’ve already cried enough this past week. Surprisingly, losing my job hasn’t been as painful as the fallout with Rowan. I tense up at the thought of him. Half of me dreads the possibility of running into him, the other half…I shut it up.

I shuffle through the lobby, my shoes squeaking on the polished floor, and just as I’m mentally preparing myself for the worst, I see Ares. He’s just as intimidating as ever, standing like the Grim Reaper in his black workout clothes, all brooding and intense. It’s like he walked straight out of a novel where the hero has a mysterious past and a penchant for dark corners. Despite all of this, he’s always been kind to me.

“Hey, Ares.” I raise my hand to greet him for, quite possibly, the last time in my life. As I approach, he gives me that small, rare smile like a sunrise breaking through a stormy sky.

“Finally,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly, “I need you to come with me.”

Ares has never been a man of a lot of words. He gets straight to the point and doesn’t care if you like it or not. Yet, there’s no arrogance about him, no ego. Everything about him is as genuine as it is dark.

“Uh, did Christina not trust me to get to the office on my own now that I’m fired?” I raise an eyebrow, the gears in my head turning.

“Just follow me, Livia.” Ares chuckles, the sound low and rumbling, and I see a glint of amusement in his eyes. His smile is a rare sight to see, and twice in a single day? He probably fell on the ice and hit his head.

“Okay?” I trail after him, curious and confused. What’s happening? The anticipation is like waiting for a roller coaster to drop. As he leads me through the hallways, my mind races. Maybe they’re going to surprise me with a sad goodbye cake and a “best of luck out there” banner.

But then, instead of turning toward Christina’s office, Ares takes me to the main rink. The moment we step inside, I freeze, my jaw dropping. What I see takes my breath away.

The entire team is gathered, and the rink is decked out like a festive carnival.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, my breath visible in the cold. “That’s not a goodbye cake.”

“Certainly isn’t,” Ares agrees, and I feel his large hand on my shoulder, prompting me to go further inside.

Banners hang from the rafters, bright and bold, declaring things like “We Love You, Livia!” and “You’re Not Going Anywhere!” My heart swells, and I feel my cheeks heat up.

What is happening?

I look to Ares, who gives me that knowing smile again.

“Ares, what is all this?” I manage to croak out, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Welcome back,” he says, his tone serious but with a hint of warmth.

My heart races, caught somewhere between disbelief and raw joy. The rink is transformed into a celebration, the air thick with balloons, confetti, and the beaming faces of the team.

“But I was fired!” I blurt out, turning to face him. “What do you mean, welcome back?”

“Rowan will explain.” He shrugs, his expression calm but inscrutable.

“No, Ares.” I shake my head, taking a step back. My stomach churns at the mention of his name.

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