Chapter 15 - Victoria

Victoria

Six Weeks Later

“ A re you packing for three days or three weeks?” Killian asked, sprawling out on my bed. He rummaged through the pile of clothes I’d stacked neatly. His dog, Winston Furchill, rolled onto his back and panted.

“Stop touching my stuff.”

He smirked, yanking out a green lace thong. “Will Xavier take this off you with his teeth? That would be so hot.”

I stormed out of my closet and snatched the underwear from his hand. “You are worse than a toddler.” I shoved it in the suitcase. Winston sat up, ready to play. I patted him on the head.

“A toddler? Moi ?” He pursed his lips. “Someone has babies on their mind.”

“Oh for the love of God, Killian. Zip it.” I returned to the closet.

“That wasn’t a denial,” he shouted at my back.

I wasn’t thinking about babies. I wasn’t thinking about anything except packing. We had a preseason game on Friday in Miami. From there, I planned to fly directly to Paris for Xavier’s international game.

Normally I wouldn’t pack this far in advance but tomorrow, Tuesday, and Wednesday were stacked.

“When are we getting together again to talk about the foundation for Charlotte?”

I poked my head out the closet door. “Hopefully after Paris. Noah and Tracey can meet with you while I’m away if you want.”

“Did you come up with a name yet?”

“Nope. Feel free to brainstorm.”

“You have a text.” Killian held up my phone.

“From?” A nervous chill washed over me.

Unknown texts have been popping up over the last few weeks. I’d dismissed them all as wrong numbers but the frequency was suspicious.

“Someone called Mildly Hot.” Killian grinned. “Know anybody by that ridiculous name?”

I traipsed out of the closet. “What time is it?”

“Almost six. Why? Is it dirty talk time? Can I stay and watch?”

I glared at him and grabbed the phone.

Mildly Hot: Hey

Me: Video call?

Mildly Hot: Only if you’re naked

Me: Guess not then :P

Mildly Hot: Is Killian still there?

Me: Yep. Give me a few minutes

Mildly Hot: Tell him I miss him

“Xavier misses you but he wants to know why you’re still here.”

“He’s secretly in love with me,” Killian gloated. “That’s why I forgave him so quickly. When you finally dump him I will move in on that ass so fast.”

“Be sure to tell Max all about it when you get home.” I ushered him out of the bedroom. “Winston’s hungry. Good night.”

I heard Killian laughing all the way to the elevator.

My stomach growled. Might as well grab some food before I call Xavier. I pulled out a couple slices of cold pizza from the fridge, prepared a little bowl of ranch dressing, and poured myself some wine. I took a sip before running to grab my laptop. Once everything was all set up on the kitchen counter, I started the call.

“I’m having your favorite for dinner,” I announced when he appeared on the screen. My heart screeched to a halt.

Damp hair, no shirt, lazy smile.

Oh, and he was laying on the bed. I silently cursed long-distance relationships.

“You’re my favorite for dinner.”

Deep breath . “Did you have training today?”

“No. Today I listened to Cade ramble about a girl he met last month. I think she was Italian. I don’t know. I lost interest after about two minutes.”

“What did I say about being nice to Cade?” I popped a ranch-covered pizza crust into my mouth. Xavier wrinkled his nose. “What’s the matter, Maddox? See something that displeases you?”

“No, love. Every inch of you pleases me. And as soon as I see you again, I’ll show you how much.”

Even through the computer screen he could fucking make me blush. Maybe he can’t see it. I finished chewing and stared at him. Yep. He can see it.

I cleared my throat. “Did you just get out of the shower?”

“A little while ago. Why? Did I miss a spot?”

“Not sure. I can only see you from the waist up.”

“I can change the view if you’d like.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“That will only lead to trouble.” I dipped another piece of crust in the dressing and slowly sucked it into my mouth.

His demeanor changed in an instant. Relaxed and casual morphed into taut and carnal. We’d agreed to keep our video chats on the cleaner side. Needless to say, our track record was atrocious.

“Do you really want to go down this road, Tori?”

Yep .

I dragged the crust through more dressing, held it in front of my mouth, and licked it clean.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t be this hard watching you lick ranch dressing off pizza.”

I choked on the wine I’d just sipped. Spit it out everywhere. It landed on the screen, the keyboard, the counter, my food.

“Was not expecting that,” I said once I’d composed myself and cleaned up. Xavier watched in silence, an amused expression on his face.

“It’s what you get for breaking our policy. Then again, you’re an expert in that department.”

I shot him an incredulous look, scanning his shirtless, tattooed torso through the screen. If that body doesn’t illustrate the saying rules are made to be broken then I don’t know what does.

I grabbed some ice cream from the freezer.

“What flavor?”

“Mint chocolate chip. Does that meet your fussy standards?”

“So long as you don’t drown it in ranch dressing.”

I made a face. “Gross.”

We filled each other in on our schedules for the week. He let me know he’ll be training with the national team in London instead of using the facility near Birmingham as originally planned. We agreed to squeeze in one more video call before my flight to Miami.

“Everything else going alright?” The change in his tone gave me pause. He sounded uneasy.

“Yeah. Why? Something wrong on your end?” You haven’t knocked out Jordan again, have you?

The longer he stayed quiet, the more my anxiety ramped up.

My phone vibrated.

Unknown: Almost time

Frustration overpowered me. “ Ugh .” I deleted the text and slid the phone across the counter.

“What happened?” Xavier’s sharp tone pushed through the speakers.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” I balled my hands into fists.

“You seem awfully stressed about nothing.”

I stabbed the spoon into the ice cream. “It was a wrong number. I must be on some spammer list. I keep getting random texts. It happened to one of the equipment guys too. So annoying.”

“When did it start?”

“I don’t know. June?”

Xavier didn’t say anything. He just rubbed his thumb on his lip. Normally, the movement was sexy and deliberate. Not this time. He did it mindlessly, almost as though he was trying to figure something out.

“Would you consider letting me arrange for you to have a—”

“A babysitter?” I cut in. “Like Hannah? No.”

“I think it would be a good idea.” His tone hardened.

“No,” I snapped at him, immediately regretting it. I looked down, taking a deep breath. “You and Bennet have tried before and I appreciate you both but I don’t want a bodyguard or security detail or any of that.”

A piercing blue stare was his only response. Not how I wanted this call to go at all.

“Xavier,” I softened my tone. “Promise me.”

“I promise, love.”

Monday was a complete shit show.

One of the more tabloid-centric sports websites posted a rumor that Noah put his house on the market. Photos of his Manhasset home with a ‘for sale’ sign in front of it accompanied the story.

“It’s fake.” Noah paced around the media room. He was still dressed in his workout gear from this morning’s practice. “I’m not moving. I don’t even know where those pictures came from. Look.” He pulled out his phone and showed me the screen. “This is my front yard right now from the security cameras. No signs. Nothing.”

He was right. The yard was empty.

“Okay.” I rubbed my temples. “Glen, see if you can connect with someone at the website. Maybe they’re feeling generous and will let you know where they got their information.”

“On it.” Glen went back to his office.

“This is fucked up,” Noah grumbled. “I’m going to be asked about it nonstop all week.”

“You know the drill. I’ll put together a statement for all the socials. Try to echo the sentiment as much as possible.”

He rolled his eyes. “The usual shit? I’m the Legends quarterback…we’re looking forward to another successful season…”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t hate me if I go off-script a bit.”

“Depends on what you say. Be smart about it.”

An aggravated grunt was his parting reply.

Tuesday coasted by without any major incidents. Noah handled the press with politeness, grace, and charm, like I knew he would. After some digging, and with the assistance of a few people in our tech department, the photos were deemed artificially generated.

Ethan called a meeting with Hannah and I. On top of all the other potential media-related problems we had to deal with, now we could add computer generated pictures to the list.

I passed along the directive to the social media team to be on alert for anything suspicious.

Wednesday announced itself without much fanfare. By lunchtime, I relaxed into the idea this would be just another boring day. The number of emails and phone calls I’d received about the Noah situation died down considerably.

News cycles were funny things. One minute, everyone’s ravenous over a story. Then, they get distracted by the next big, shiny object. Nobody seemed to care much about the fake photos anymore. All the sports media outlets were now enamored with a baseball team accused in a sign-stealing scheme.

“Hey,” Hannah poked her head into my office. “Feel like grabbing some dinner? Or do you have plans?”

“Plans?” I paused for dramatic effect. “Yeah. I’m having a forbidden affair with my couch.”

“Oh please. That outfit and those heels need some attention. Let’s go to Ghost. Their food is supposed to be outstanding.”

Ghost was the trendy new place to see and be seen in lower Manhattan. All the influencers liked to post about it. Plus, several players enjoyed hanging out there. Jax and Dante were notorious for posing with the owner every time they showed up.

“Oh boy. A night out in the Financial District.”

“Meet me at the car in twenty.” Hannah went back to her office.

Alex, the oversized security guard, stood motionless by her door. He’s been there every day for over a month. I finally walked up to him a few weeks ago and introduced myself.

He’d looked at me blankly and said, I know who you are.

I guess lacking a fun gene was a requirement to work in personal security.

Does he ever relax , I wondered.

An hour later I had my answer. Nope. He does not relax. In fact, he doesn’t know the definition of the word. When we arrived, Alex made us wait so he could check out the surroundings before we went inside.

“Is he one of yours or is he courtesy of Bennet?” I asked, motioning toward him after we’d been seated and served our drinks.

“Bennet. Mine is only around during work hours.” She fidgeted with her glass. “You know how Bennet is. Always pulling the strings from the shadows.”

I sort of knew, I guess. Maybe? Intrigue bloomed. “Does it ever bother you how he likes to have his hands in everything you do?”

She didn’t answer. I casually sipped on my martini, trying to appear nonchalant. Hannah’s become an even bigger mystery to me since what happened at the ring ceremony.

Our conversation detoured from Bennet to Charlotte’s foundation, and finally to our trip to Miami and Paris. We ordered some appetizers and another round of drinks. By the time the third round came out, we were both relaxed and giddy.

We even managed to convince Alex to stretch his legs for a few minutes. He scowled at us and muttered something about using the restroom.

“Good evening ladies,” a deep voice greeted us.

I jumped, heart pounding. He sounds like …

My eyes fell on the well-dressed man who’d interrupted us. I relaxed a bit, realizing this wasn’t a repeat of my encounter with Jordan. Although this guy could have emerged from the same business bro clone factory. Tailored suit, styled hair, gleaming cufflinks, arrogant smile.

Hannah glanced at him with disinterest.

He didn’t seem to mind neither one of us greeted him with anything more than a cool stare.

“Sorry if I’ve interrupted you. My friend and I—” he gestured behind him “—would like to buy you both a drink.”

I glanced to my left, noticing another three-piece suit sitting at a table. He lifted a glass and winked. I rolled my eyes.

“Thank you, but no,” Hannah replied, sounding more like an annoyed princess than anything else.

The man smiled without any warmth. “You mean to tell me I’m being snubbed? And here I thought the esteemed executives with the vaunted New York Legends would jump at the chance to be pampered.”

“Buying us a drink doesn’t cut it.” I paused to sip my martini. “But thanks for noticing.”

Hang around posh venues in the city long enough, and running into this type of guy wasn’t too much of a shock. Our photos were plastered all over the Legends website. Plus, Hannah’s been part of the Manhattan social scene her entire life as the sole heiress to the Caldwell fortune.

Any person with half a brain who fancies themselves to be on the prowl would recognize her.

I get noticed occasionally but nobody cares about the media relations person for a football team. Unless they want an interview. Although these days my visibility on social media was more prevalent thanks to being linked with Xavier.

This guy had a different motive. I just couldn’t figure it out yet.

“In that case,” he continued, lowering his tone, “would you both care to join us at The Guild? It’s an ultra exclusive…club. Invite only. We have a private room reserved for the night.”

I’ve heard my share of bad pick up lines but this one takes the cake.

Hannah remained void of expression. I barreled ahead.

“It’s an ultra exclusive sex club, right? You left that part out.”

“I had a feeling you’d know about it,” he told my chest. Asshole .

Hannah tapped my foot under the table. Don’t engage , she mouthed. My vodka-fueled smile said otherwise. If this guy wanted an adventure, he’s going to get one. Just not the kind he’s expecting.

I angled myself to face him, draping one arm on the back of my chair. My other hand toyed with the martini glass. “What about me gave you that feeling?” My voice dripped with poisonous honey.

He didn’t bother hiding his intentions anymore. “You look like the type. Big tits, expensive clothes, hot friend. I bet you two eat each other out and like getting railed by two guys at once. My friend and I are willing to take that bet.”

I really had to fight back the nausea. This guy went from smarmy to revolting in an instant.

Hannah’s whole body tensed but she maintained her poise. “If this place is as exclusive as you say, I’d hope they wouldn’t allow people like you inside.”

He ignored her. The longer he stared at my breasts, the harder it was for me not to kick him in the balls. But I did like the adrenaline of the situation.

Except for the part where he reached out and fondled me. I shoved him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Baby, you can’t be this hot and this much of a cock tease without giving me a taste.”

One cursory glance at his crotch told me all I needed to know. “Not much cock to tease, is there?”

He grabbed himself. “I would love to stuff this in your smart fucking mouth and prove you wrong.” Then he groped me again.

“Step away from the table.” A steel edge ran beneath Alex’s calm tone when he gripped the guy’s arm. I didn’t even hear him approach.

Suit Guy paled.

“You should probably listen to him,” I said coolly, ignoring the rapid beating of my heart. “He’s already had to send his food back once because it wasn’t cooked right.”

“Entitled bitch.”

“I think you’re confusing that with confident . What’s the matter? Don’t know how to handle a strong woman?” Venom laced my tone. Alex appeared ready to strangle this guy. “And what does that make you? Asshole is too kind.” His eyes latched on to my chest again. Idiot . “By the way, my face is up here, dipshit. Go back to the cave you crawled out from before I have my friend here throw you out.”

A cunning smile appeared. “I got what I came for. Nothin’ like copping a feel on some rich bitch who likes to run her mouth.”

Alex yanked him toward the exit by the shirt collar. Hannah exhaled sharply. I knocked back the rest of my drink. Copping a feel? Who the hell still says that?

His table buddy strode toward the exit but not before pausing near us. He looked me over, smirked, and walked away.

“Let’s go.” Alex’s clipped tone left no room for discussion when he returned.

As I was climbing into the car, I noticed the two douche bags talking to the valet. He handed them both an envelope. Panic surged through me.

I didn’t say anything to Hannah about it on the drive back to the stadium. She’d been texting with someone the whole time. It couldn’t be Bennet. It was after ten here, meaning it’s the middle of the night in England.

My car was the only one still sitting in the lot. Alex pulled up and parked perpendicular to it.

“Thanks, Alex. See you tomorrow, Hannah.”

“Drive safe,” she called after me, not looking away from her phone. “Text me when you get home.”

Something crunched beneath my feet when I approached my car. It was dark, but I could see objects glittering on the ground under the lights.

I looked closer.

Shards of glass.

Every muscle in my body screamed at me to run.

What remained of my driver’s side window lay shattered on the asphalt.