Fake Engaged to My Hockey Rival

[POV: Lanaya Roux] The freezing winter air hit Lanaya like a sheet of ice. She pushed through the heavy glass doors of the terrace, escaping the suffocating heat of the ballroom. The Boston skyline glittered uselessly below. She ripped her hand away from her face, furiously wiping at a tear of pure, blinding rage that dared to spill over her lashes. She gripped the freezing stone of the balcony railing until her knuckles turned bone-white. He let Crew drown. The thought came the way it always came when she was alone and her armor slipped - not as an accusation anymore but as a fact she returned to the way a tongue returns to a broken tooth. Quiet. Automatic. Like a prayer she had been saying so long she no longer heard the words. He let Crew drown. He let Crew drown. She stood there with it until the cold numbed her fingers. The heavy glass doors scraped open behind her. "Lanaya." The low, rasping command sent a violent spike of adrenaline straight into her blood. She didn't turn around. "Go back inside, Maverick," she breathed. "Go back to Chloe." Heavy footsteps crossed the stone. "Look at me." "No." He didn't ask again. Maverick's hand clamped down on her shoulder, spinning her around with terrifying ease. The sheer size of him blocked out the city lights, trapping her between his massive chest and the stone railing. "You ran," he stated, his grey-blue eyes dark with fury. "I walked away from a trap!" Lanaya shoved hard against his chest. He didn't budge a single inch. "You demanded I play the devoted fiancée. You cornered me, forced me into this sick arrangement, and the second your ex insults me, you drop my hand!" "You think I wanted to side with her?" "You let me go!" The words tore out of her, louder than she intended, carrying everything she hadn't meant to show. "You just stood there and let me go. You're good at that, aren't you? Standing there and letting go." The last line landed like a blade. She saw it hit him. Something behind his eyes went very still, and she was glad. She had wanted it to wound him and it had, and she hated herself slightly for how much satisfaction that gave her. Maverick stepped directly into her space, crowding her so tightly she could feel the frantic, hammering beat of his heart against her ribs. The scent of cedar and dark bourbon surrounded her, cutting through the freezing air. "My father was standing ten feet away," Maverick said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Chloe was baiting us. If I had defended you the way I wanted to - if I showed the board how much I actually cared that she was insulting you - Alexander would know." "Know what?" Lanaya choked out. "That I'm losing control." He reached up. His long, calloused fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck. He tilted her head up, forcing her to look into the storm-dark intensity of his eyes. "I didn't drop your hand to side with her, Huntress," he breathed, his thumb tracing the sharp line of her jaw. "I dropped it to protect you." Lanaya's breath hitched. Her body betrayed her, leaning into the intoxicating heat of his palm against her freezing skin. Something snagged. The word protect. The specific, careful weight he put on it - like it was a thing he had been doing for a long time, quietly, without credit. She wanted to say it again: you let Crew drown. The sentence was right there, ready. But it had a slightly different texture in this moment than it usually did, like a key that almost fitted but required a fraction more force than it should. She didn't follow the thought. She pressed it flat and buried it beneath eight years of practiced certainty. "I don't need your protection," she whispered. The words sounded impossibly weak. "Yes, you do." The tenderness vanished from his expression, replaced instantly by the ruthless, calculating captain. His grip on her neck tightened just enough to hold her completely captive. "Because Chloe didn't just guess that we were faking it." The sudden shift in his tone sent ice water through her veins. "What do you mean?" "She isn't that smart," Maverick said flatly. "She came over to test our reaction. Because an hour ago, she received an anonymous tip." Lanaya's stomach plummeted. "What tip?" "An email." Maverick didn't look away from her. His eyes were completely black, devoid of anything human. "Someone sent her network a photo." "A photo of what?" "Our contract." The air vanished from Lanaya's lungs. The city noise faded into a dull, rushing roar in her ears. "No," she gasped, shaking her head. "No, that's impossible. We signed it this morning. In your penthouse. Behind locked doors." "Only four people were in that room," Maverick said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Me, you, and two of my father's lawyers. But someone took a picture of the signature page. And they sent it to the press." Lanaya gripped the lapels of his suit jacket to keep from collapsing. If the press had the contract, the merger was dead. Redstone was bankrupt. Crew's foundation was gone. Everything they were doing this for was destroyed. "Did Chloe publish it?" Lanaya demanded, pure panic bleeding into her voice. "Is it already out?" "Not yet." Maverick stepped closer, his body fully caging hers against the balcony. "The sender attached a condition. They gave us until midnight." "Until midnight for what?" Maverick's jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked violently beneath his skin. "Ten million dollars, Lanaya," he rasped. "Or they burn both of our families to the ground."