Page 31 of Skating Towards Danger

Amy’s eyes widen in shock when her voice echoes, “Come on, Andrew baby, put your big cock inside me….”

She looks at me, then back at the phone, then me again.

“Here’s the thing, Amy,” I start as I stop the footage. “My girl would be treated like a queen, I wouldn’t ignore her, I wouldn’t make her feel like shit, and if my girl was pregnant, she wouldbe placed on bed rest just for my peace of mind because I would be obsessed with her, it’s in my DNA,” I point my phone at her, “You are not my girl, you have never been. You’re a puck bunny wanting a free ride, and that,” I point at her stomach, “is not my child. The night we fucked when you conceived the thing, I fucked your ass once, and you swallowed my cum before I kicked you out. Andrew, however, the manager of the Carlston Diner, is the father of it,” I shake my phone, “This is proof of that.”

She swallows and stammers, “Y-you were drunk, y-you didn’t…”

I cut her off, “I didn’t have a drop of fucking alcohol that day, in fact, I never fucking drink around women like you for this reason alone. We were in that hotel room for twenty fucking minutes, and afterward, I cleaned up and went to my brothers for dinner. Now, here’s what’s going to happen, you're going to sign this,” I grab the paper behind me in my back pocket and show it her, “and you are going to sign the statement my lawyer made,” her face goes white, “It is a confession that Andrew is the father and that you were trying to trap me for money, if you don’t, well, let’s just say, you want to sign this paperwork.”

Amy takes a small step back when she notices my gun in my slacks as I turn my body a little to the side, and I half smirk, full of coldness.

Now, I won’t kill her because, yeah, she is pregnant, and I won’t harm a pregnant woman no matter how much my demon wants this bitch dead for what she’s tried to do, but she doesn’t need to know that.

She’s heard the stories, she was a puck bunny in college. I’ve known her for years, and she’s always followed me around, but I didn’t start fucking her until last year when all the other pussy became boring. She was just easy to get my rocks off, and I wasn’t stupid, I knew she was fucking others too, and I didn’t care, but her trying to trap me, yeah, that I care about. Now, sherealizes she fucked with the wrong guy because the stories were not stories.

Through thick and thin, through blood, I am the second to the Don of the Italian Mafia.

“I-I,” she stutters, but I ignore it and push off the car before going to the last page of the statement and holding it out to her along with a pen.

“Sign it, Amy, before you see the rumors were not just rumors, and then get your fucking ass out of New York,” I threaten, and she flinches before bringing her perfectly manicured shaking fingers up and grabbing the pen and paper.

Her tears fall as she signs the document, and I nod and take it from her. She hiccups, “I-I, I’m sorry…”

I shrug, “Sorry doesn’t change the fact you tried to trap me with another man’s baby all for my hard-earned money, now fuck off before I decide to grab my piece.”

Amy sucks in a breath, then backs away before running or more like tripping in her high heels on the way to her car.

I shake my head and quickly message Roman that the bitch signed the contract and that I’ll take it to the lawyer, who will issue a statement of Amy’s discretions because, let’s face it, she’s gone around town claiming she’s pregnant with my child and that needs rectifying before putting the paper inside the glove box of my car, locking it just in case she decides to stupidly break my car window and take it back then lock my car and look at the arena.

I need to watch Paige until she finishes her routine just in case a Cartel member shows, and I need to bring up the frenemies with benefits shit because I need to fuck her out of my system. Otherwise, I’ll go insane, and hopefully, I’d be able to walk away in a few weeks.

Sighing, I walk towards the arena with my heart in my throat.

Short-term fuck buddies, yeah, I can fuck her for a few weeks, then let her go, it’s for the best, or that’s what I keep telling myself even though it feels like a big fat fucking lie.

I tilt my head and furrow my brows as I watch Paige stand in the middle of the ice, breathing hard while staring off like she’s in a trance.

For the past hour, I’ve stood here, leaning against the stands, and watched her skate elegantly, fucking flawlessly. When she glides around the ice doing her tricks and spins, she’s in her own little world. It’s like no one else is around her, but as soon as she stops, you can see the emotions take over her face.

Loss, pain, sadness, fear, and the worst one of all – guilt.

She feels guilty for loving being on the ice because her parents are dead. It’s been fifteen years, and she made decisions that have impacted her future financially, and even though Roman confirmed she cashed the cheque, I can guarantee she hasn’t spent a penny of it, her still living in that shitty apartment that I follow her back to every night without her knowing is proof of that.

My body pulls to go to her, to pull her into me and hold her tight, but I fight the feeling off.

She’s not my girl…

Yet, I push off the stands within seconds and walk over to the gate, where her sneakers are.

Fuck’s sake, stupid legs!

“Finally making yourself known, player,” She rasps, her eyes coming my way, and I can’t help the little smile that plays my lips.

Player…

“Yeah, little fairy,” I mumble, and she skates towards me, and I can’t help but watch mesmerized.

There’s nothing hotter than a woman who loves the ice as much as I do but where I’m fighting to stay on it, she’s fighting to get off it and has been since she lost her parents.

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