Roman’s mind refused to slow as he stepped out of the cab, his thoughts looping, tangling, refusing to settle. The image of that shadow behind the curtain kept flashing, clear, undeniable. Real.

"Just trust yourself," the driver said, his voice cutting cleanly through the noise in Roman’s head.

Roman turned sharply, but the car was gone, the taillights getting smaller as the car moved down the street, and the faint hum of distant traffic and the dry rustle of wind brushing past the hedges.

He frowned, a flicker of unease settling in his chest, but it passed as quickly as it came. Without lingering on it, he turned and headed toward the mansion.

The heavy doors groaned as he pushed them open, the sound echoing faintly through the vast foyer. Beige and gold stretched around him, polished, pristine, suffocating. It was too quiet, too perfect.

He moved straight to the elevator, pressing the button with more force than necessary. While he waited, he leaned his head briefly against the cool marble pillar beside him, the chill grounding him for a second.

Leo’s face. That window. That movement. Was he losing it? Had everything finally cracked something inside him?

The elevator chimed softly, and he stepped in, the doors sliding shut with a muted whisper. The confined space wrapped around him, strangely comforting, like it shut the rest of the world out, even if only for a few seconds.

When the doors opened again, he didn’t hesitate. He walked straight down the hall and into his room. The door creaked open, and silence greeted him.

He paused just inside, his gaze drifting slowly across the space. It felt too empty.

Then his eyes landed on the ring light in the corner, still set up exactly where it had been before. Where everything had started with Estelle.

A flicker of something passed through him, and then he moved.

He crossed the room, sat down, and adjusted his phone with steady, deliberate motions. His fingers hovered for a second before he tapped the screen. Go live.

A breath left him as he leaned back slightly, waiting. It didn’t take long before faces, comments, and reactions started flooding in.

Angry emojis, relentless, filled the screen.

You deserve to be banned.

You’re a disgrace to sportsmanship.

He doesn’t even look sorry. Ban him!

The words blurred together as they climbed the screen.

Roman watched them, his jaw tightening, his pulse steady but heavy. Then he inhaled, slow, controlled, and leaned forward.

"First," he began, his voice calm, though the weight beneath it was unmistakable, "I said I would admit to my misconduct on the ice, and here I am." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

He paused, drawing in another breath, his gaze fixed on the camera as though it were more than glass and pixels.

"Not because I want to save my career," he continued quietly, "but because Leo is a human being before anything else, before an opponent. And he deserves his dignity."

His fingers curled slightly against his knee as he held that gaze, something sharper settling behind his eyes, like he was speaking to one person, not thousands.

"I’m sorry, Leo. I should never have put my hands on you." Roman’s voice came out steadier than he felt, but there was weight behind it now, something that hadn’t been there before.

"That was my first mistake," he continued, drawing in a slow breath. "And I want to apologize to everyone else I disappointed, my teammates, my fans, everyone."

His fingers tightened slightly against his knee. "I deserve the hate right now," he added quietly. "But I promise, I will make this right."

Then the comments surged.

Is this remorse, or just because you got caught?

Roman’s eyes tracked the line for a moment. Then he nodded, almost to himself. "Sometimes," he said, his tone calmer now, more grounded, "we need people to call us out before we can see ourselves clearly."

He exhaled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. "So yes, if this hadn’t happened, I probably wouldn’t have realized how far my anger could go. How easily it could destroy everything I’ve worked for."

For a moment, the stream shifted to less anger, and a few hearts floated up through the screen, faint but noticeable.

Roman’s gaze lingered there, then something else caught his attention, a notification. It slid down from the top of the screen. His brows drew together as he pulled it open, his eyes scanning quickly.

You need to go there now! Don’t hesitate like you always do. Trust yourself!

He froze. The urgency in the message was almost palpable, but something about the wording tugged at him. Familiar. Irritatingly so. Like a voice he used to argue with. His jaw tightened without thinking.

He looked at the number. Unknown number. Urgent tone. No explanation. This could be a trap. But what if it wasn’t?

Roman frowned slightly, his mind already spinning. Where was he supposed to go?

For a second, nothing made sense. Then something clicked, not fully, not clearly. But enough. Someone was trying to tell him something.

His jaw tightened as he pushed the thought aside for the moment and looked back at the stream. Another comment caught his eye.

Where is your wife? Why has she disappeared from the public eye? The question hit harder than he expected, another reminder of what he had lost.

For a split second, something flickered across his face, but it was gone just as quickly.

"I see your comments and your questions," he said, keeping his voice even. "But I don’t have all the answers right now." A brief pause. "But I promise," he added, quieter now, "things will be different from here on out."

He gave a small nod. "Thank you for joining."

The screen went dark as he ended the stream, and silence rushed in.

Roman grabbed his phone from the stand and pushed to his feet in one sharp motion, adrenaline kicking in again. He didn’t stop to think, he just moved. Out of the room and down the hallway.

He took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, his footsteps echoing against the walls as he descended quickly, gripping the railing once as he turned the corner.

The front doors loomed ahead. He pushed them open and stepped outside, the air hitting his face, cool, sharp, grounding.

For a moment, he looked around, and then it hit him. His car was still at the arena.

His shoulders dropped slightly, frustration creeping in at the edges. He glanced around the driveway. Cars were lined up, polished, and waiting, but every single one of them came with a condition. Magnus.

Roman exhaled slowly, tension settling back into his chest as he stood there, caught between urgency and limitation.

He let out a sharp breath and turned toward the gate, his steps quick, purposeful, gravel crunching faintly under his shoes. Halfway down the path, something shifted at the edge of his vision.

Roman slowed.

A woman stepped out from the side of the mansion, her figure partially swallowed by shadow.

He frowned, his gaze narrowing as his mind immediately kicked into motion. Who is she? And how did she get in here?

Before he could think it through, his phone buzzed again, sharp, insistent. He pulled it out, his pulse already picking up.

Hurry. You’ve already wasted enough time.

Roman’s jaw tightened. He didn’t bother to look back at the woman again, for all he knew, she could have been a new housekeeper.

But whatever that was, whoever she was, it could wait. This couldn’t.