Claimed By The Hockey Star

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The scary online nightmare did not even wait for the bright morning sun to arrive.

By exactly seven o'clock in the morning, my phone was already exploding with loud vibrations on my nightstand. It was not just a bunch of standard text messages from Mia and Lena this time. My screen was completely flooded with thousands of random notifications from i********:, Twitter, and even a few major local news alerts. I sat up quickly in my bed, rubbing the heavy sleep from my eyes, and opened up one of the trending posts that had been shared thousands of times.

My heart completely stopped. Someone had taken a blurry but very recognizable photo of Khalid and me walking out of the back exit of the sports arena together after his big hockey game. Beneath that, another clear photo from Benson’s street food truck had surfaced on the internet. The picture showed the two of us standing incredibly close together on the sidewalk; he was laughing down at me while I looked up into his handsome face with a soft, happy smile. The news headlines written by the sports blogs were completely ruthless and mean.

“The Beast’s New Prey: Who Is Venessa? From Office Roses to Late-Night Street Food Dates with Chicago's Captain”

“Hockey Captain Khalid Al-Mansour Spotted with Mystery Woman – Sources Say It Is Already Serious”

I scrolled through the public comments in absolute horror and shock, my face turning completely pale in the dim light of my bedroom.

“Wait, she works at a normal neighborhood community center? I am getting major gold-digger vibes from her,” one random sports fan wrote.

“Her face is all over the internet now. I bet she is absolutely loving all this sudden attention,” another mean comment read.

“I just found her private LinkedIn profile online. She is so totally basic. Khalid can do way better than her.”

My stomach twisted into a painful, tight knot. This was no longer just a little bit of silly office gossip near the water cooler. This was fully public now. My private life was being pulled out into the open for the entire world to judge.

I barely had enough time to process the mean comments before Mia’s name flashed on my screen, calling me.

“Venessa, babe, it is really bad out here,” Mia said the exact second I picked up the phone. Her voice was shaking with worry. “People online are actually sharing your staff photo directly from the community center's official website. Some of his crazy hockey fans are already trying to find out your full legal name. You might really want to stay home inside your apartment today, Ven.”

“I can’t stay home, Mia,” I whispered back into the phone, already pulling my clothes out of the closet with trembling hands. “I have important meetings today with families who need our help. I have to go to work.”

But by the time my ride reached the community outreach center downtown, the whole situation had grown ten times worse than I could have ever imagined. A small group of loud sports fans and aggressive paparazzi photographers were already hovering right near the front glass entrance of the building. The very moment I stepped out of my Uber onto the pavement, several camera lenses pointed right at my face, and bright white lights started flashing rapidly.

“Venessa! Are you actually dating Khalid Al-Mansour?” a reporter shouted, shoving a microphone toward my face.

“Is it true that the rich hockey star bought you a brand-new luxury car already?” another person yelled.

“Are you pregnant with The Beast's baby, Venessa? Give us a statement!”

I kept my head down as low as possible, my heart pounding like a wild drum against my ribs, and rushed through the front doors. The center had to use extra security guards which we almost never needed just to escort me safely through the crowded lobby and away from the cameras. Mrs. Lilian was already waiting for me near my office desk, her older face looking incredibly tight and stressed out.

“Venessa, I am so sorry about this,” she said, looking down at her hands. “But our front phones are literally ringing nonstop this morning. We are getting calls from our major donors, worried neighborhood parents, and even a local news blog wants an official statement from us. All this wild public attention simply is not good for the outreach center right now.”

A deep wave of hot shame burned straight through my chest. “I completely understand, Mrs. Lilian ,” I whispered, looking down at the floor because I was too embarrassed to meet her eyes. “I never wanted any of this to happen. I will pack up my things and work from my home computer for a few days.”

She nodded her head quickly, looking immensely relieved but still very sympathetic to my pain. “Thank you, Venessa. Please take all the time you need to get this sorted out.”

I packed my laptop and notebooks into my bag as fast as humanly possible, completely avoiding the curious eyes of my coworkers. As I slipped quietly out through a dark side exit in the back of the building to avoid the main crowd, one persistent photographer caught a glimpse of me.

“Venessa! Hey, look over here! Smile for the camera!” he yelled, running toward me.

I practically ran down the sidewalk in my heels, my pulse racing with pure panic, until a familiar, massive black Range Rover suddenly screeched to a hard stop right beside the curb. The heavy passenger door flew wide open from the inside.

“Get inside the car. Now.”

Khalid’s deep voice was incredibly sharp, packed with absolute alpha command. I did not argue with him for a single second. I dove headfirst into the high passenger seat, and he stepped on the gas pedal, pulling away from the curb before I had even completely closed the heavy door behind me. His massive, scarred right hand was gripping the leather steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were stark white. I thought the wheel might actually snap in his grip.

“Those vultures were actually waiting for you outside your job?” he growled out loud, his dark eyes scanning the side mirrors rapidly to see if anyone was following us. “f**k. I should have had my personal security team stationed at your building this morning.”

“I explicitly told you this exact nightmare would happen, Khalid!” I snapped back at him, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and leftover fear. “You sat in this car and told me that you would handle everything. Now my face is all over the internet, and my boss basically just told me to disappear from my job because I am a distraction.”

He reached his large, warm hand across the seats and placed it firmly on my thigh, squeezing my leg gently. The touch was incredibly possessive, but it felt weirdly grounding. It slowed the frantic racing of my mind.

“I am so sorry, little liar,” he said, his rough voice dropping to a softer tone. “My personal public relations team is releasing an official statement to the news channels today. It will be something very simplejust stating that we are officially seeing each other and that I would deeply appreciate it if everyone respected our privacy.”

“Privacy?” I let out a bitter, sad laugh, staring out the window at the blurred city streets. “That ship sailed away the exact second those one hundred roses showed up at my desk yesterday morning. Someone literally recognized me on the street just now, Khalid. They were shouting disgusting questions about whether I am pregnant with your child!”

His sharp jaw clenched so hard that a muscle jumped in his cheek. He made a sharp, aggressive turn with the vehicle, heading completely away from the busy main roads of Chicago. “No one gets to harass you like that, Venessa. Not while you belong to me.”

“I am not yours yet,” I reminded him in a soft whisper, even though a warm, dangerous thrill rushed through my belly at his protective words. “This is only Day Three of our ninety days.”

“You are mine,” he said darkly, flashing his intense, pitch-black eyes over at my face for a brief second. “Even if you are still trying your absolute best to fight against it.”

He drove us into a very quiet, exclusive residential neighborhood of the city and pulled the big car down into a secure underground parking garage situated beneath a luxury high-rise building.

“This is my place,” he said, killing the powerful engine. “There are no cameras allowed down here, and no press can get past the front gates. You will be completely safe here with me until I fix this mess.”

I knew I should have argued with him. I knew I should have demanded that he take me straight back to my own apartment. But I was simply too emotionally drained and tired to fight his overwhelming energy anymore. I followed his giant frame out of the car and up into a private elevator that took us straight to the very top floor.

His penthouse apartment was absolutely stunning. It featured massive, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the entire beautiful skyline of Chicago. The space was filled with modern, dark leather furniture, high-end art, and a few pieces of his professional hockey memorabilia tastefully displayed on the walls. But being alone with him in his private home felt strangely intimate and high-stakes.

Khalid shrugged his heavy winter coat off his broad shoulders and immediately stepped across the room toward me. Before I could say a word, he pulled my small body flush against his massive chest, wrapping his thick, powerful arms completely around me. I tried to stay stiff, but my walls completely melted against his warmth despite myself. I buried my face in his chest, breathing in that familiar, safe scent of his woody cologne.

“They are calling me such horrible names online, Khalid,” I whispered softly into the fabric of his shirt, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “They are calling me a gold-digger and an opportunist who trapped you.”

“Let the internet losers talk all they want,” he said, his deep voice vibrating right against my cheek. His large hand began to stroke my back in slow, soothing circles that made my heart finally begin to slow down. “They don't know a single thing about you, Venessa. They don't know how incredibly strong you are. They don't know how you tried to run away from me at the club, even when your beautiful body wanted to stay right in my arms.”

I pulled my head back slightly so I could look up into his rugged face. His dark eyes were burning with a heavy mix of pure anger at the media world, but when his gaze finally landed on my face, his eyes softened into something much deeper and warmer.

“You are shaking all over again, little liar,” he murmured deeply, lifting a hand to gently brush a long black braid behind my ear.

“I am not shaking from fear this time, Khalid,” I admitted in a very quiet, honest voice.

His intense gaze instantly dropped down to look at my lips. The heavy air between us thickened with pure physical attraction in less than a second. He leaned his tall body down very slowly, giving me more than enough time to push him away or step back. But I didn't move a single inch.

His perfect lips finally claimed mine in a deep, incredibly hungry, and passionate kiss that completely stole all the breath right out of my lungs. This was nothing like that sweet, gentle forehead peck he had given me on my doorstep the night before. This kiss was completely raw. It was fiercely possessive. His large, warm hands came up to cup both sides of my face, his thumbs wiping at my skin as he kissed me harder, as if he were trying his absolute best to physically erase every single cruel comment and headline from my mind.

When we finally broke apart for air, both of us were breathing incredibly hard. He didn't let me go, though. He rested his forehead gently against mine, his dark eyes staring directly into my soul.

“I am going to protect you from all of them, Venessa,” he vowed roughly, his breath hot against my face. “I will protect you from the press, from the crazy sports fans, and from anyone else who dares to try to hurt you. Just please give me the time to prove it to you.”

My fingers fisted tightly into the fabric of his black shirt, holding onto him for dear life. The intense chemistry between the two of us was growing stronger with every passing hour, pulling me deep under its surface like a dangerous ocean current. I wanted to trust his words so badly. I wanted to believe that this wild, aggressive Beast could truly be gentle and safe with my heart.

But just as he leaned down to kiss me a second time, his phone started ringing loudly from his pocketit was likely his stressed-out PR team calling him back for the tenth time today. The loud sound brought reality crashing right back into the room, breaking the romantic spell.

A brand-new notification popped up with a loud ding on my own phone screen. A very famous, highly reputable national sports website had just published a breaking article online.

“Exclusive Reveal: Chicago Arctic Wolves Captain Khalid Al-Mansour’s New Girlfriend Is Venessa Thompson – Here Is Everything We Know So Far About His Mystery Girl.”

They didn't just have a blurry photo anymore. They had my full legal name now.

Khalid read the text over my shoulder, and a terrible curse word escaped his lips. He pulled my body even tighter against his massive frame, wrapping his arms around me almost as if he could physically shield me from the eyes of the entire world.

“This circus ends today,” he vowed, his deep voice dropping to a very low, dangerous, and dark alpha growl. “No one gets to come after what belongs to me.”

I closed my eyes tightly against his chest, my heart racing with a terrifying, wild mix of deep fear and forbidden, hot excitement.

Our ninety-day agreement had suddenly become a whole lot more complicated than I ever thought it would be.