Page 55 of The Hockey Pact

I nodded, though inwardly I was already certain of my position. No matter what Vincent had, I wasn't going to let Riley lose her restaurant.

The door opened, and Vincent entered with the confident swagger of someone holding winning cards. He wore an expensively tailored suit that somehow still managed to look cheap on him. Behind him followed a stone-faced man in an even more expensive suit—clearly a lawyer.

"Ms. Reynolds," Vincent greeted Diane. "So kind of you to arrange this meeting on such short notice." His gaze slidto Riley and me, lingering on our clasped hands with barely disguised skepticism. "Mr. and Mrs. Matthews. Lovely to see you both."

Diane rose, offering a professional smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Mr. Carelli. And your associate is...?"

"Andrew, my attorney," Vincent replied smoothly. "I thought it prudent to have legal representation, given the... complexity of our discussion."

Introductions complete, we all settled around the conference table. Vincent wasted no time producing a manila envelope, which he placed deliberately in the center of the table.

"I believe these will help focus our conversation," he said, sliding the envelope toward Diane.

She opened it and removed several glossy photographs, her expression betraying nothing as she examined them. Finally, she spread them on the table where Riley and I could see.

My stomach dropped. The images were grainy but unmistakable—security camera footage from my building's lobby, showing Riley arriving that day to discuss our arrangement. Another showed us in the penthouse with Diane, clearly reviewing documents. Though the papers themselves weren't legible, the formal setup and our body language told the story clearly enough.

"It's such an interesting document signing," Vincent observed, leaning back in his chair. "Most newlyweds are focused on marriage certificates, not detailed contracts specifying termination dates."

Riley's hand tightened painfully around mine. I squeezed back gently, trying to convey reassurance I didn't entirely feel.

"These images prove nothing except that my clients met with me to review documents," Diane said coolly. "A common practice for high-net-worth individuals entering marriage, as I'm sure your attorney would confirm."

Andrew remained impassive, neither supporting nor contradicting her statement.

"Perhaps," Vincent conceded. "But I also have testimony from a former building security employee who overheard quite interesting details about your 'prenuptial agreement.' Including specific language about the temporary nature of the union and financial compensation."

Whether he was bluffing or not, the smug confidence in his voice suggested he believed he had us cornered. I felt Riley's silent distress beside me and made a decision.

"What exactly are you seeking here, Vincent?" Diane asked, cutting to the chase.

"I think we can reach a mutually beneficial arrangement," Vincent replied silkily. "I've always admired Ms. Caldwell’s —forgive me, Mrs. Matthews'—business acumen and culinary talent.Hat Trickhas such... potential."

Riley remained unnaturally still beside me, her grip on my hand tightening.

"I propose a simple exchange," Vincent continued. "Controlling interest inHat Trick, maintained connection to Mr. Matthews for promotional purposes, and in return, complete silence regarding the... unusual nature of your marriage."

The silence that followed his proposal stretched taut as a tripwire. Diane looked to us, clearly waiting for some indication of how to proceed.

I'd heard enough. "No," I said simply.

Vincent blinked, momentarily thrown by my direct refusal. "Perhaps you misunderstand the situation, Mr. Matthews—"

"I understand perfectly," I interrupted, keeping my voice level. "Riley isn't giving you her restaurant. Not for anything."

Riley turned to me, her eyes questioning but trusting. I held her gaze, trying to communicate everything I couldn't yet say aloud.

"We'll tell the truth ourselves before letting you weaponize it," I added, turning back to Vincent.

My declaration visibly shocked everyone in the room. Diane's carefully maintained professional mask slipped momentarily, revealing alarm.

"Caleb," she cautioned, "let's consider all the implications before—"

"I've already considered them," I said firmly. The worst outcome suddenly seemed manageable compared to watching Riley surrender her passion to Vincent's manipulation. "If the choice is between Riley losing her restaurant and me facing some uncomfortable press conferences, there's no choice at all."

Vincent's expression had shifted from smugness to uncertainty. This clearly wasn't the reaction he'd anticipated.

"Touching bravado," he said dismissively, "but we both know you're bluffing. You've built your entire relationship on deception. Exposure means guaranteed damage to both your careers."

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