I Burned The Hockey Star Down

"After we win, I’ll tell the world you’re my girlfriend."

Cole Maddox made that promise exactly four hours ago in the locker room.

Now, the final buzzer blared through the arena. Confetti rained over the ice in a glittering storm. My boyfriend of five years had just secured his first NHL championship.

"Ten seconds on the clock, Emma," Carter, the assistant coach, nudged my shoulder. "You ready for the big reveal?"

"I'm terrified," I admitted, gripping the edge of the boards.

"He loves you. He’s going to tell the whole world."

I smiled, my heart pounding against my ribs. Five years of secrecy. Five years of sneaking through service elevators, booking separate flights, and arriving at restaurants ten minutes after him. Tonight, the shadows were supposed to disappear.

Cole skated toward the glass, hoisting the Stanley Cup above his head. He locked eyes with me.

I took a step forward.

Then, Sienna Blake vaulted over the VIP barrier.

"Cole!" she screamed.

The sports socialite landed on the ice in designer boots. Cole dropped his gloves. He didn't push her away. He caught her by the waist.

Sienna crashed her lips onto his.

Cameras fired off like strobe lights, broadcasting the kiss to millions. Cole didn't hesitate. He pulled her closer and kissed her back.

I froze. The deafening noise of the crowd faded into a dull, echoing roar.

I turned away from the ice and pushed past the security detail, marching into the backstage corridor. My phone vibrated endlessly in my pocket.

*Trending: #ColeAndSienna #NHLPowerCouple*

Marcus, Cole’s agent, stepped directly into my path. He planted a heavy hand on my shoulder, blocking the hallway.

"Stop right there, Emma," Marcus ordered.

I slapped his hand away. "Move, Marcus. I need to see him."

"He’s doing post-game press. You need to head out through the employee exit."

"I'm not leaving through the back door. Not tonight."

"You work for him. You do what I say."

"I’m his girlfriend!"

"You’re his assistant," Marcus corrected, his tone sharp. "And right now, you’re a liability."

Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall. Cole rounded the corner, still wearing his sweat-soaked jersey.

"Cole," I demanded. "Tell him to move."

Cole stopped, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "Listen to him, Emma. Keep your voice down."

"Keep my voice down? You kissed her on live television!"

"She kissed me. It’s a publicity stunt. The network set it up."

"And you didn't think to warn me?"

"I'm warning you now. Things changed. Marcus says the Sienna angle is huge for my brand."

"Your brand? You promised me tonight was our night!"

"Grow up, Emma," Cole snapped.

A chaotic stampede of footsteps echoed from the adjacent corridor. A mob of reporters surged toward us, shouting his name.

Cole panicked. He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising my skin. He yanked open the door to the men's restroom and shoved me inside.

"Stay here until they leave," he commanded.

He slammed the door in my face.

I stumbled back into the dark, surrounded by the smell of cheap soap and damp tiles.

Outside, microphones clattered.

"Cole! Are you and Sienna official?" a reporter yelled.

"Is there any truth to the rumors about a mystery girl? Someone on your staff?" another asked.

I pressed my hand against the cold wood of the door, waiting for him to defend me. To keep his promise.

Cole laughed. A smooth, media-trained chuckle.

"I’m definitely not dating my assistant."

The words shattered the last piece of my heart.

Three hours later, the victory party raged in the hotel ballroom. I sat alone in the lobby, staring at the wall.

My phone buzzed. A text from Cole.

*Bring the spare penthouse keycard up. Sienna needs to get in.*

He wanted me to play the dutiful assistant. To escort his fake girlfriend into his presidential suite to hype up their fake romance.

I rode the elevator to the top floor. I marched down the carpeted hall and pounded on the heavy oak door.

It swung open.

Sienna stood there, holding a glass of champagne. She wore a faded gray vintage band tee.

My chest tightened so hard it hurt. That was Cole’s favorite shirt. He never even let me wash it.

"Oh, the assistant," Sienna purred. She looked me up and down with blatant disgust. "Took you long enough. Cole said you were usually faster."

"Where is he?" I asked.

"He’s busy."

I pushed past her, stepping into the massive suite.

Cole sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, untying his dress shoes. He still wore his suit pants and a white button-down, unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

"Cole," I said.

He frowned, keeping his gaze on his shoelaces. "Just give her the key, Emma. You didn't need to come inside."

I stepped closer. "Did you sleep with her last night?"

Sienna laughed, a sharp, grating sound. "I'll give you two a minute. Don't take too long, babe. The bed is getting cold."

She trailed a finger over Cole’s shoulder and sauntered into the bathroom. The lock clicked.

Cole finally looked up. He glared at me, irritation flashing in his eyes. "What is your problem?"

"My problem?" I threw the plastic keycard onto the glass coffee table. It bounced and landed on the rug. "You humiliated me on television. You shoved me in a bathroom. Now she’s wearing your clothes."

"I told you in the hallway, it’s just PR. The fans love us together. It boosts my marketability for the new endorsement deals."

"I asked you a question," I said, my voice rising. "Did you sleep with her?"

Cole stood up. He closed the distance between us, his massive frame towering over me. "I don’t have to answer to you."

"Yes, you do. After five years of hiding in hotel rooms, managing your schedule, making sure your life runs perfectly while you pretend I don't exist. You owe me the truth."

"I owe you a paycheck," he snapped. "That’s it."

The words hit me harder than a physical blow.

"I gave you my twenties, Cole. I missed my sister's wedding because you had a playoff game and needed me to prep your meals."

"Nobody forced you to do that."

"Because I loved you!"

"Because you loved the lifestyle," he shot back. "You like the private jets and the VIP access just as much as Sienna does."

"Don't compare me to her."

"Why not? She actually understands how this business works."

"Did you sleep with her?" I demanded again.

Cole turned his back to me, walking over to the minibar. He poured a glass of whiskey.

"Don’t ruin the biggest night of my career," he muttered.

He didn't deny it.

I stared at his broad shoulders. He felt like a complete stranger.

"We're done," I said.

Cole didn't flinch. He didn't drop his glass. He just took a sip of his drink.

"I quit. And we're over."

He set the glass down and sat back on the bed, picking up his phone. He scrolled through his notifications, completely unbothered.

"You’ll be back tomorrow," Cole said, not even looking up. "You always are."

I turned on my heel and walked out. I let the heavy door slam shut behind me.

As I walked down the quiet hallway, my phone buzzed in my pocket. An unknown number flashed on the screen.

I answered. "Hello?"

"Emma Lawson?" a deep, unfamiliar voice asked. "I saw what happened on the ice tonight. I think we can help each other destroy Cole Maddox."