I hit the ice like I owned it. Every stride, every check, every roar of the crowd reminded me why they called me ‘The Beast’.

They didn’t call me “The Beast” for nothing.

“Think you’re gonna knock me out, pretty boy?” I snarled at the rookie skating alongside me. His eyes widened a fraction, but before he could react, I slammed my shoulder into him, driving him into the boards so hard the glass rattled. His helmet cracked against the pane, and I saw the smear of blood on his upper lip before he staggered back.

The crowd erupted, some cheered, some gasped but none of it mattered. The only sound I cared about was the hollow thud of someone realizing they were out of their league.

“Penalty box, now! Romano!” The coach's voice cut through the noise.

I peeled away, unbothered. The rookie would remember this hit for the rest of his career if he had one. Helmet in hand, I glided to the box, scanning the stands. People avoided my gaze, Smart… Fear was better than respect — respect could fade, fear burned into the bones.

Tommy, my left wing for the past three years, leaned on his stick at the bench. “Good work,” he said with a smirk.

“Could’ve roughed him up more,” I muttered, running a gloved hand across my forehead.

We finished the game strong, crushing them 4–1. I scored twice, each goal punctuated with someone lying flat on their back. Message sent.

The locker room was a storm of celebration… shouts, laughter and sprays of beer. I sat in the corner, unwrapping the tape from my hands. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind that familiar emptiness. They called me captain, but they didn’t follow me because they respected me but because they were afraid not to.

Coach Williams stepped into my space, his tone cautious. “Romano. Good game. Clean hits tonight.”

Clean… Sure, If you ignored the rookie’s busted lip. But winning made people see what they wanted to see.

“We need a new team doctor,” Coach continued, lowering his voice. “And we need to discuss some… new medication routines.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m thinking of the Martins.”

The name jolted me before he even clarified.

He saw my frown. “Doctor Martin. Sofia Martin.”

I kept my eyes down, feigning disinterest. “Not my problem.”

“It is,” he pressed. “You're the captain. She’s gonna have to learn how things work around here. And you’re going to make sure she does.”

Something in my chest shifted. I didn’t like it. I didn't like the sound of her name rolling around in my head. I didn't like that I could picture a face I’d never even seen.

That night, as I left the arena, my phone buzzed.

Isabella: Nice game tonight, baby. Come over. I’m in that red thing you like.

I deleted the message straightaway. She’s been clinging to me for years, but am not interested and would never be.

Before I know it, my phone rings again and this time is my dad Vincent Romano.

Boy, there is an urgent conference tonight in the next 1 hour.

And he hangs up.

A knot formed in my stomach. Vincent didn’t call conferences unless it was serious.

By the time I reached the compound, the tension in my chest was thick. Five acres of stone walls, cameras, armed guards and the Romano fortress. I walked into Vincent’s office. He was behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Sit,” he ordered. “Good game tonight. But we have bigger problems.”

“The Chicago PD?” I asked.

“Handled. Morrison won’t be a problem anymore,” he said flatly. “I’m talking about the new med staff. Sofia Martin.”

There it was again. Her name. Like a spark catching in dry wood.

Vincent’s eyes were sharp but he continued… “She’s young, top of her class and more experienced. She’s the key to keeping our players healthy and keeping our operations running smoothly. You’ll need to make her understand who she works for.”

I leaned back in my chair. “And if she doesn’t?”

His lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Then she learns the hard way.”

I left the office without another word. The night air outside was sharp, the world quiet except for the sound of my boots on the pavement. Isabella’s texts popped up again.

Ignored.

My thoughts weren’t on her. They were on Sofia Martin, a name I’d never heard before tonight, yet it lodged itself in my mind like a blade.

She was walking into a world she didn’t understand. And for some reason I couldn’t explain, I didn’t like the idea of her getting hurt.

Which made no sense. I didn’t protect strangers and also I don't care.

But as I headed for the empty rink, I knew one thing for sure that the moment I met this Sofia Martin, something in my life was going to change for good.