THE ICE CAPTAIN’S RETRIBUTION

Chapter Four

Chloe's POV

Two weeks. It had been exactly fourteen days since I tore my own life to pieces in the ballroom of the Royal Suite, and the world had spent every single second of it trying to chew me up and spit me out.

The Houstons hadn’t hesitated. By the very next morning, my bank accounts were frozen under the guise of "suspicious corporate activity." The media, fed on a steady diet of well-paid Houston PR lies, branded me a scheming, cheating gold-digger. Then came the vicious threats, anonymous letters slipped under my door, graphic messages flooding my inbox, and masked figures lingering at the edge of my property. I had been drowning.

Until Dominic stepped in. He had quietly moved me into one of his private, heavily guarded estates on the outskirts of the city. For two weeks, I had lived behind bulletproof glass and towering stone walls, surrounded by elite security guards who spoke only in nods. I rarely saw Dominic, but his presence was everywhere, a silent, unyielding shield keeping the wolves at bay.

My phone buzzed on the vanity, breaking the silence.

Dominic: Showtime is about to begin. I’ve sent an outfit over to the mansion. Be ready in thirty.

A soft knock sounded at my door a minute later, and a maid presented a sleek, black box. I opened it to find a pristine white tennis skirt and a matching, form-fitting tank singlet. No designer gowns, no heavy jewelry. Just athletic, effortless simplicity.

I brushed my long hair out, letting it fall in soft, natural waves over my shoulders, and applied the bare minimum of makeup. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't see the broken fiancee the media was painting. I saw a woman ready for war..

One of Dominic’s trusted, silent drivers escorted me to the stadium. The moment the sleek SUV pulled up to the VIP entrance, the roar of the crowd inside the arena vibrated right through the soles of my shoes. But as I stepped out, the first people I saw standing near the secure entrance made my blood turn to ice-water.

Brandon and Ava.

They were huddled close, acting cozy for a nearby camera crew, though the tension radiating off them was palpable. The Houston ship was sinking, and they were desperately trying to pretend it wasn’t.

I stopped, a slow, cold smile spreading across my lips. I whispered to myself, "Tonight is sure going to be fun."

Brandon’s head snapped toward me, his eyes widening in immediate, venomous fury. He marched over, grabbing Ava by the hand as he stopped a mere foot away from me.

"Where the hell have you been hiding your face, Chloe?" Brandon sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "Running out of places to crawl into?"

Ava crossed her arms, letting out a sharp, mocking laugh that sounded entirely forced. "Oh, look, Brandon. Did she actually come to watch Dominic play? She probably thinks he’s going to save her. The press are all lined up, Chloe. They’re just waiting for Dominic to publicly deny you and call you the desperate slut you are."

Brandon stepped closer, looking down his nose at me. He looked pathetic, trying so hard to project power when he was utterly ruined. "I’ll tell you what, Chloe. I’m a generous guy. I’ll personally clear your name and call off the media. All you have to do is get down on your knees, kowtow to me right here, and bark like a dog. Do that, and maybe just maybe I'll consider your apology."

I didn't flinch or blink. I simply tilted my head, letting a dangerous, mocking smirk play on my lips.

"I truly hope," I said, my voice smooth and deadly quiet, "that the two of you will be able to walk out of this stadium tonight with that exact same arrogance."

Before either of them could process the warning, I brushed past them, my shoulder striking Brandon’s hard enough to make him stumble back as I walked straight into the VVIP section.

The game itself was a bloodbath. Dominic’s team didn't just win; they absolutely demolished the opposition by a massive point gap. But as I watched from the glass-walled box, my eyes kept tracking Dominic. The way he moved on the ice wasn't normal. At one point, a defender lunged to check him, and Dominic bypassed him with a burst of speed that looked almost like a blur, like a flash of lightning on the ice.

I shrugged it off, rubbing my temples. I’m just stressed, I thought. I’ve never even liked sports. I’m probably just imagining things.The final buzzer rang, and the stadium erupted into chaotic cheering. But the real show began when Dominic skated to the center ice, grabbed the broadcaster's microphone, and looked directly up at the VVIP box.

"I have an important announcement to make," his deep, rumbling voice echoed through the massive speakers. "Chloe Henderson, please join me on the ice."

A wave of low whispers instantly swept through the crowd. I could hear the sneers from the nearby seats, fans muttering the word slut under their breath. I kept my head high as I walked down the tunnel and stepped onto the red carpet rolled out over the ice.

The moment my sneakers met the carpet, Dominic closed the distance. He didn't hesitate. His massive, gloved hand clamped around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard chest. Before I could even gasp, his head tilted, and he slammed his lips onto mine.

It was a deep, consuming, possessive kiss that left me completely breathless. His arm wrapped around me like a steel band, anchoring me to him in front of twenty thousand screaming onlookers. When he finally broke the kiss, his silver eyes burned down into mine with an intensity that made my heart violently hammer against my ribs. He turned back to the crowd, his voice booming.

"I’m officially announcing that I am staying loyal to Chloe. From this moment on, she is the only woman I am taking seriously."

The arena went completely wild, half of them cheering, the other half screaming curses, calling me a homewrecker and a cheat.

I pulled a microphone from the stand, a cold, victorious adrenaline rushing through my veins. I reached into my bag and pulled out a thick envelope of folded papers.

"You want to talk about cheats?" I shouted, my voice cutting through the noise. With a sharp flick of my wrist, I threw the pages high into the air.

Dozens of high-resolution, dated hotel receipts, pregnancy reports, and intimate pictures of Brandon and Ava rained down over the front-row press and the ice.

"I invite the netizens and the media to judge for themselves who the real sluts are," I said, pointing a finger directly at a pale, horrified Ava standing in the tunnels.

The media section exploded into a frenzy of flashing cameras and shouting reporters. Dominic didn't let them get close. He gripped my hand, pulling me quickly off the ice and dragging me down the quiet, concrete corridors toward the team's private locker room. He pushed the door open, but we both froze.

Marcus Kane, the team's vice-captain, was standing by Dominic’s private water tank, hurriedly shaking a small bottle over the lid.

"What the hell are you putting in there, Marcus?" Dominic asked, his voice instantly dropping to a dangerously low, chilling register.

Marcus jumped, nearly dropping the bottle. His face went entirely pale, and he began to stutter violently. "I—uh—it’s nothing! Just vitamins, man! You know, for your recovery after the match! You wouldn't have it if I don't mix it in your water"

With a frantic, trembling hand, Marcus shoved the small plastic bottle into Dominic's chest, avoided our eyes, and bolted out of the locker room as if the devil himself were chasing him. Dominic looked down at the bottle, his expression unreadable, before casually tossing it onto a nearby bench with a dismissive shrug of his broad shoulders.

He stepped closer to me, his massive frame trapping me against the locker door. The dangerous edge in his eyes vanished, replaced by a dark, playful glint.

"Well," Dominic murmured, leaning down until his breath brushed my ear, "now that the media is taken care of... I have to say, Chloe. Your lips are incredibly soft."

I felt a sudden, electric shiver run down my spine. I leaned my head back against the metal locker, looking up at him with a challenged, matching smirk. "Is that so, Captain? And here I thought you were just acting for the cameras."

Dominic’s thumb slowly traced my bottom lip, his gaze dropping to watch the movement. "Trust me, sweetheart. That was the only real thing in this entire stadium tonight. And I’m highly considering going back for seconds.”