CHAPTER 2
1031 Words
JADE'S POV
I don't know how long I stood there, staring up at the glass.
Declan didn't move. He just kept smiling, that same slow, confident smile that used to make my knees weak when I was twenty-one and stupid enough to think it meant something. Now it just made my stomach turn.
He raised his glass a little higher, like a toast. Like a warning.
I turned and ran.
My sneakers slapped against the hallway tiles as I pushed past staff and players, my medical bag banging against my hip. I didn't stop until I reached the staff exit, shoved the door open, and stumbled out into the cold parking garage, gasping like I'd been holding my breath for two years.
It couldn't be him.
It had to be a mistake. A coincidence. Maybe I'd imagined it, maybe the stress of my first day was finally catching up to me.
But deep down, I knew. I knew that face. I knew that smile. Declan Cross didn't do coincidences. Everything he did was planned, calculated, like a chess move he'd already thought ten steps ahead.
Two years ago, I left Chicago with one bag and three hundred dollars in my pocket. I changed my name back to my mother's maiden name. I cut off every friend who might know where I'd gone. I told myself if I ran far enough, fast enough, he would never find me.
I should have known better.
My father had owed Declan money. A lot of money. And when Dad died with nothing left to pay it off, Declan didn't come after the house, or the cars, or anything like that.
He came after me.
"You'll be taken care of," he told me, the night he sat across from me at that long dinner table, his eyes traveling over me like I was something he'd already bought. "Think of it as a fresh start, Jade. I'll give you everything. Clothes. A car. A life most girls would die for."
I was twenty-one. He was forty-four.
I left three weeks before the engagement party.
And now he was standing in the owner's box of the team I'd just been hired by, like the universe had decided two years wasn't enough of a head start.
"Jade?"
I jumped so hard I dropped my bag.
Rafe stood a few feet away, a towel around his neck, sweat still damp on his skin from the game. His pale gold eyes studied my face, and something in his expression shifted, like he could smell the fear coming off me.
"You okay?" he asked. His voice was lower now, careful. "You look like you saw a ghost."
"I'm fine," I said, way too fast. "Just... long first day."
He didn't believe me. I could tell. His nostrils flared slightly, like he was reading something in the air that I couldn't see.
"Your heart's going crazy again," he said quietly. "Same as before. But this isn't the same kind of fast."
"I told you, I'm fine, Captain."
"Rafe," he corrected, stepping closer. "And you're shaking."
Before I could answer, a voice cut through the garage like a blade.
"Jade. There you are."
My whole body locked up.
Declan walked toward us, unhurried, like he owned the place. Which, judging by the way the security guard at the door practically bowed when he passed, he probably did now.
He was still as polished as I remembered. Dark suit, perfectly fitted. Silver starting to show at his temples, but it only made him look more dangerous, not older. His eyes, when they landed on me, were warm in a way that made my skin crawl.
"You've grown your hair out," he said, like we were old friends catching up. "It suits you."
"What are you doing here?" My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
"Business," he said simply. "I bought a controlling stake in the Wolves three months ago. I had no idea you were working here until I saw your name on the medical staff list this morning." He smiled wider. "Small world, isn't it?"
I didn't believe that for a second.
"I think you should go," Rafe said. His voice had changed completely. Lower. Harder. The towel slid off his shoulder, forgotten, as he stepped between me and Declan without even seeming to think about it.
Declan's gaze finally moved off me and onto Rafe.
And something passed over his face. Something I couldn't read.
"Rafael," he said, slowly, the smile fading just slightly. "Still as protective as ever. Some things never change."
"Do I know you?" Rafe asked, his jaw tight.
"You don't remember me?" Declan tilted his head, almost amused. "I suppose it has been a while. You were what, sixteen, the last time I saw you? Right before your mother took you and ran."
Rafe went completely still.
I felt the air around us change, thick and heavy, like something was pressing down on all three of us at once. Rafe's hands curled into fists at his sides, and for a second, his eyes flashed brighter, almost glowing, the same way they had on the ice.
"I don't know who you think you are," Rafe said, his voice low and dangerous, "but you need to back away from her. Now."
Declan didn't move. He just looked at Rafe for a long moment, something cold and amused flickering behind his eyes.
Then he smiled again, slower this time, and reached into his jacket pocket.
"You don't know who I am?" he repeated softly. He pulled out a thin silver case, opened it, and held out a business card between two fingers.
"Strange," he said. "Your mother never told you about your real father?"
The garage went silent.
Rafe didn't take the card.
He didn't say a word.
He just stared at Declan, his chest rising and falling, his whole body shaking like the ground beneath us had just split open.
And I realized, with a sick drop in my stomach, that the man I had run from for two years was standing in front of me again.
Except this time, he wasn't just my problem anymore.
He was Rafe's father.
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