Page 16 of On Ice

I guess I really hit a nerve, because as I close the door, I hear something heavy thump against it, followed by the sound of breaking glass.

Chapter Five

Evan

Walking into the conference room for the team meeting, I feel like a fool. I never thought of myself as gullible, but that’s exactly what I was last night. I bought what Luca was selling, hook, line, and sinker. I didn’t question his motives for one second. I had dinner with the head of the Barone Syndicate, then took him back to my place and let him fuck me six ways to Sunday.

Jesus, I’ll never live this down.

Luca is at the front of the room, shaking people’s hands and smiling like the Cheshire cat. It’s annoying how my pulse spikes as our eyes meet across the large room. He noticed me enter the room as if he sensed my presence. Now, his dark gaze tracks me like a laser. I hate that I’m as aware of him as he is me. I pull my gaze from his, but not before shooting him a scathing look. His smile just widens.

Arrogant jerk.

I still can’t believe the man I had dinner with is the same cold-eyed, calculating bastard who unveiled his plan to me this morning. I’d have bet my left nut he was a good guy. A gentleman. I actually thought he’d be good for our organization.

Shame and embarrassment once more wash over me. Remembering how I gave myself to him. How vulnerable I was with him. My face is on fire at the memories. I felt such a connection to him, it’s still hard to believe Luca, the Luca I thought I knew, isn’t real. He was a figment of my imagination.I’m humiliated that I trusted him and last night will go to the grave with me. I’m never telling another living soul about it.

Coach Baker is at the meeting along with our General Manager Derek Calloway. Coach is bouncing off the walls happy. The Ice Hawks are his life, and he thinks the team has been saved from the brink of disaster. Little does he know the team is now in the hands of a mobster who only wants us so he can use us to make millions in illegal gambling.

Derek is in a jovial mood too. Derek is in his late forties with premature white hair and sharp blue eyes. He’s polished and smart, with a business-first approach to hockey. He’s always had a strong desire to rebuild the franchise, but as hungry as he is to get our team a championship, it’s hard to imagine he’d go along with Luca’s scheme of us throwing games. I have to assume he doesn’t know.

Noah comes over, and we bullshit for a bit, waiting for everyone to take their seats. I decide not to sit, just in case my hatred for Luca gets too difficult to hide and I need to step out for some air. Once the others are seated, Luca gracefully makes his way to the stage. There’s a row of folding chairs at the back where Coach sits, and Luca joins him. He’s changed out of his formal suit into a more causal blazer, jeans, a fitted light blue shirt, and a red tie. I guess he’s dressing for the part he’s playing, trying to look less intimidating and more down-to-earth. No doubt it was a calculated choice, like everything else about him. He’s a fucking fake.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, afternoon sunlight streams across the polished table where the team shift in their seats, all eyes fixed on our GM as he taps the mic at the podium, clearing his throat loudly. There’s some feedback from the mic that has us all wincing and covering our ears.

“Sorry about that.” Derek laughs, his voice reverberating through the tinny microphone. “First, I want to thank everyone for being here,” Derek begins, his voice carrying that smooth confidence that probably served him well climbing from scout to GM. “As you all know, the past few seasons have presented some challenges for our organization. Issues that have impacted every person in this room.”

A few players shift in their seats. Noah exchanges a look with me that speaks volumes about those “challenges.” We recently found out that the former owner of the team had been embezzling money. That tracks, considering they clearly weren’t reinvesting it into the team. But even before that, morale had been at an all-time low. We’d made three unsuccessful runs at the playoffs, and last season’s exit meetings had been brutal. Management had threatened to gut the entire roster and start fresh. The only reason any of us are still here is because Coach Baker went to bat for us.

After coming that close to losing it all, that just makes Luca’s plan for us to throw games even more terrifying. Going along with his greedy scheme could cost me and my teammates everything. If we start losing again, because that’s what Luca tells us to do, the league is never going to take us seriously. This might be about money for Luca, but for the rest of us, it’s our entire careers on the line. You don’t get endless chances in professional sports. If we fail again this season, we’re damaged goods.

“Today marks a turning point for the Seabrooke Ice Hawks.” Derek gestures to where Luca sits. “Mr. Barone’s acquisition of the team brings with it a commitment to excellence that will transform this organization. Not only will that transformation be cosmetic, but we’re looking to put somereal effort into getting you boys what you need to be the best damn hockey team around.”

A murmur moves through the team, with some of the guys nodding.

“These changes proposed by Mr. Barone demonstrate his commitment to building a winning philosophy for the Ice Hawks,” Derek says, his voice tinged with genuine excitement. “His vision is to create a culture rooted in supporting our players, our staff, and our fans.”

I have to bite my tongue to stop a burst of hysterical laughter from exploding out of me. I’ve seen therealLuca and the only “culture” Luca Barone is trying to create is one that lines his pockets. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the players, staff, or our fans. He only cares about himself and his syndicate. We’re simply a means to an end for him.

“I think Mr. Barone would love to outline the specifics of what he has planned himself, so I’ll turn things over to him now.” Derek smiles and turns toward Luca. “Ice Hawks, meet your new owner, Luca Barone.”

Everyone claps, and Luca stands, looking annoyingly confident as he approaches the lectern. From my position near the door, I watch the team react to Luca. Most of them seem open to him, their expressions optimistic. A few of the older players appear a bit more wary. They’ve been through ownership change over enough times to know you can’t believe everything you’re promised.

As he reaches the podium, Luca gives a charming smile. As much as I loathe the man, I can’t help the warmth that shifts through me at the sight of it. That smile seduced me last night. It unpeeled me effortlessly until I gave Luca everything he wanted.I’m humiliated that I was suckered so easily. But I had no idea what malevolence slithered beneath that fake, appealing grin. He’s a monster, but he disguises it so perfectly, no one would know unless he decides to reveal himself.

“First off, thank you for such a warm reception,” Luca says, his voice carrying effortlessly through the room. He sounds relaxed and self-assured, as if buying and extorting a hockey team is as normal for him as putting on socks.

“Mafia scum,” I say under my breath.

“My first priority will be upgrading the training facilities,” Luca says. “We’re going to completely redo the weight room and the recovery center. You also deserve dedicated medical staff, and no more sharing one trainer between twenty-plus players. The team’s health and well-being are the most important thing about this operation. I’m sorry the previous owner didn’t seem to recognize that. But I do.”

“About time we were appreciated,” Deck Murphy rumbles from his corner seat. Our veteran enforcer leans forward, scarred knuckles resting on the table. “The training room’s held together with duct tape and sweat.”

Luca’s smile is perfect, concerned, slightly apologetic. “I’ve seen the facilities. They’re a disgrace. I’ve already contracted renovations starting next week. It’ll be inconvenient while they work, but I’m confident the results will make it well worth it. Coach Baker has already committed to setting up a temporary weight room while the contractors do their thing.”

Torres bobs his head like one of those little dog statues in the back of a car. “You bet, sir. It will be well worth it.”

“Good,” Luca says. “This next improvement, I’m sure you’re really going to like. We’re upgrading team travel. New bus,charter flights for anything over four hours. Proper hotels, not whatever’s cheapest.”

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