His Father Bought Me-Chapter 5: You Are Married To Her

"And what if I say no?" Estelle’s voice rang through the entrance, her heart hammering against her ribs, forcing Magnus to stop.

He turned and looked at her; his smile had vanished now. "I’m sure Vance already read you the terms and conditions... the consequences too, I hope," he said, his voice cold.

Estelle narrowed her eyes. She had his attention, and she was going to make the most of it. "I am not afraid of consequences," she shot back, her voice defiant despite the hammering beneath her ribs.

Magnus tilted his head slightly, studying her as though she were an unexpected flaw in otherwise pristine marble. "Still feisty," he murmured. A faint smirk ghosted across his lips. "Even now."

Estelle’s jaw clenched. "I don’t think this is all a coincidence," she blurted out. "I saw you there that night."

Magnus’s face hardened like stone, and even the air shifted at his gaze.

"At the championship," she continued, her voice low and sharp. "In the private box. You were watching when I fell."

Something flickered behind his eyes. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Then it vanished.

"Many people were watching," he said flatly.

"But you smiled."

Magnus’s expression didn’t change, but she noticed the way his posture became rigid as though he was hiding something.

Then Vance stepped forward, his jaw tight. "Careful there, Miss Rutledge," he said softly. "You’re not on the ice anymore. There are no judges here. No cameras. No one to save you when you fall."

"And you will fall again. Unless you learn very quickly what your new role requires," Magnus cut in coldly, his eyes blazing.

Estelle’s heart stopped, but only for a second. She first looked at Vance before her eyes shifted to Magnus, and she held his gaze. "If I fall... I will be dragging you down with me," she shot back calmly.

The words hung between them like a dark cloud.

But Magnus didn’t shake, nor did he reply. Instead, he straightened and turned away. "Take her inside," he said coolly. "And inform me when my son arrives."

Just like that, she was dismissed and that stung more than any reply.

Vance nodded. But before he could move, an engine suddenly roared in the distance. It was sharp, fast, cutting through the silence of the estate like a blade.

Movement stopped and heads turned toward the sound.

A low, sleek sports car swerved into view and screeched to a halt at the foot of the stairs, the tires whining against stone.

Estelle saw Magnus’s expression and immediately knew who it was. His look said it all, and the thought of him made her heart skip violently in her chest. Every muscle in her body tensed.

It was him. The man she’d been sold to. The man whose career she was supposed to be a leash on. The man who had no idea she existed until this moment.

The door swung open, and he stepped out.

Roman Whitehall. The Avatar Hockey Team’s beast captain, the most dangerous thing on ice. And he moved like he was still on it.

Sweat darkened the collar of his jersey as it hung loose off one broad shoulder. His gear bag was slung low and his hockey stick rested in one hand like it was fused to his bones.

Estelle’s eyes drifted over him slowly and she could see the raw, controlled aggression radiating off him.

I’m supposed to be his leash?

Roman’s jaw flexed as he took the stairs two at a time. When he reached the landing, his gaze flicked to her just for a second and his step faltered.

He knew that face. Ice. Spotlight. Blood against white.

But he hardened his jaw anyway and turned to his father. "Why is there a crippled woman in our house?" he asked casually.

The word hit harder than the gates had.

Estelle’s chest tightened, her nostrils flaring.

Roman’s gaze shifted between Magnus and Vance as he waited for a reply.

Magnus let the silence stretch deliberately as if he was counting in his head. One... two... Then he shattered it.

"Because you just married her," he declared.

Roman’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets as the words hit him. His gaze snapped to Estelle for another second, moving over her figure in the wheelchair. Then he spun to face his father, his jaw clenched.

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!"

The words sliced through the entrance like a thunderclap.

Estelle’s breath felt stuck somewhere between her throat and chest. She had imagined this moment a hundred times in the car. Meeting Roman Whitehall, the ruthless king of hockey, her new husband. But what she hadn’t imagined was the disgust on his face and it made her stomach twist violently.

Magnus held his gaze. "I didn’t plan for you two to meet like this, but since you are already here, we might as well, just do the introductions,’ he continued. "Roman, meet your wife, Estelle Rut—"

Roman didn’t even let him finish, his head snapped toward her. His eyes moved over her figure, the wheelchair, the hospital gown still visible beneath the blanket, the defiant tilt of her chin. The only part of her that refused to break.

Estelle adjusted the blanket on her legs, feeling small.

His expression didn’t change, but his knuckles whitened around his hockey stick, gripping it like he wanted to snap it in half... or maybe snap her.

"This is a joke!" he scoffed, laughing awkwardly.

Magnus held his gaze, calm and cruel. "The marriage contract is signed. You are married... to her."

Estelle’s pulse thundered in her ears. She opened her mouth to speak, but Roman cut in before she could even muster a single word. His eyes snapped to Magnus, fury and disbelief etched into every line of his face.

"No, Father," he shook his head, his lips curved with disgust. "I don’t care about your marriage contract. You’d better take her back to where you found her, because I’m not playing house with a crippled ghost!" he snapped.