His Father Bought Me-Chapter 17: The Ultimatum

Roman adjusted his stance and sighed. "Listen, Lena—"

But she raised a hand, stopping him before he could finish. "Is this the surprise you said you had for me?" she asked, her voice brimming with disappointment as her gaze flicked over him before hardening. "A figure skater, Roman? Really? You’re throwing away a real partner for a girl who can’t even stand on her own two blades without falling?"

The comment struck a nerve.

Roman’s jaw tightened. "You don’t need to say that about her," he said, irritation creeping into his voice. "She is as much a—" He stopped himself abruptly, exhaling through his nose. "Listen, Lena," he continued, forcing the words out more evenly. "I don’t have time for this right now. I’ll deal with it later."

Before she could respond, Roman stepped around her and continued down the hallway.

Lena’s jaw dropped as she stood frozen in the hallway, the shock on her face remained for a moment before it slowly hardened into something colder. "Oh, you will regret this, Roman Whitehall," she murmured under her breath. "I’ll make sure you do."

Across the corridor, Roman’s figure was already disappearing around the corner, his footsteps echoing faintly. Lena’s jaw tightened as she watched him go. The sting of humiliation burned beneath her skin, sharp and difficult to hide, especially with her friends standing beside her.

They exchanged uncertain glances before one of them leaned closer.

"Are you really going to let him get away with humiliating you like this?" she asked quietly.

Lena didn’t answer right away. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on the empty hallway where Roman had just vanished. Slowly, the tension in her shoulders eased, and a small smile curved at the corner of her lips.

"He’ll come crawling back," she said at last, her voice calm again. Then her gaze darkened slightly. "You wait and see."

Her friends looked at one another, unsure whether to be reassured or concerned. But Lena didn’t care. She simply smoothed a hand over her red dress, her smile lingering as if she already knew how the story would end.

But Roman didn’t look back, and even though the weight of every stare in the building pressed against him, he ignored them all and kept moving.

Halfway down the corridor, Nathan suddenly stepped into his path. "You got married?" he whispered. "Since when?"

Roman’s jaw tightened. "Since about five minutes ago, apparently."

Nathan’s exhaled sharply. "But seriously, why are they saying you’re married?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly as he looked Roman over. "What’s going on? What’s with all this drama?"

Roman met his gaze, his fists still clenched. "That’s exactly what I’m here to find out," he muttered, then he moved past him. Nathan just stood there watching, his brows drawn tight.

As Roman reached Magnus’s office, he didn’t bother knocking. He just shoved the door open, and it slammed against the hinges with a sharp crack.

"What the hell is this news circulating on the internet?" he demanded, his chest rising and falling as he met his father’s gaze unflinching.

Magnus leaned back in his chair, a faint smile playing on his lips as if Roman’s fury were enteraining. "I wanted to inform you," he said calmly, "but you seemed rather occupied with your wife earlier and I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt the moment."

The lightness in his voice only made the storm in Roman’s chest rage harder.

"You think this is a joke?" Roman snapped, his voice rising. "You’re messing with my life! What exactly do you intend to gain from this?"

The amusement slowly faded from Magnus’s face. "Why don’t you stop sulking and accept your new status?" he replied, his tone casual as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. "You already assumed the role once. Surely you can get used to it with a little practice."

Roman stared at him in disbelief. "You think because I helped her that I’m suddenly obligated to her?" he spat.

Magnus let out a slow sigh, as though Roman were being unnecessarily dramatic. "You did what a husband would do... protect his wife and—"

"I did what any human being would do!" Roman cut in sharply.

Magnus’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Since when do you care about that?" he asked calmly. "Since when do you care so much?"

The words hung in the office for a moment.

Roman’s shoulders dipped slightly before he caught himself. Magnus was right. Estelle had only just stepped into his life, and already he had broken more than one of his own rules because of her.

The thought irritated him and he shook his head as if to push it away. "I will not marry a dancer," he said firmly. "I can’t do it. I swore I would never be with one. And of all the people you could have chosen... it had to be her?"

Before Magnus could answer, a soft knock sounded at the door. His secretary appeared a moment later, her posture straight and professional. "Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt, but your guests have arrived," she said politely.

Magnus gave a small nod and then turned his attention back to Roman. "I would love to continue this conversation," he said, rising smoothly from his chair, "but I have important guests waiting. You’ll have to leave."

The faint smirk returning to his lips only fueled Roman’s anger. "You’re not going to get away with this, Father! I—"

Magnus raised a hand, cutting him off quietly. "Instead of throwing threats around, I suggest you start getting to know your wife," he said calmly. "After your appearance tomorrow, you have a press conference in two days. And you know how the press can be."

Roman let out a sharp scoff and shook his head. "You are unbelievable."

"You’ll need to put on a convincing show," Magnus continued, straightening his jacket. "Otherwise the media will tear apart whatever is left of your career, and I won’t be saving you this time."

Roman’s nostrils flared as anger burned through him. He opened his mouth to argue again, but Magnus had already turned away and pressed the intercom on his desk. "Send them in," he instructed.

Roman stood there for a moment, his jaw tight, his fists clenched as he stared at his father’s back. Then he turned toward the door.

"And Roman..." Magnus’s voice stopped him just before he reached it.

Roman froze.

"The NHL board is watching," Magnus said evenly. "They don’t want a loose cannon... they want a family man." A pause followed, heavy with implication. "If you can’t convince them you’re a devoted husband within forty-eight hours, then don’t bother showing up for next season’s draft."

"What?" Roman’s eyes widened.