Claimed By The Hockey Star

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

By the middle of the day, the beautiful red roses were no longer just a lovely gift sitting on my desk. They had turned into a fullblown, dangerous situation that was threatening to tear my peaceful life apart at the seams.

My phone wouldn’t stop vibrating against the hard wood of my desk. At first, I truly thought it was just Khalid being his usual overthetop self, sending more cheesy text messages from the ice rink to distract me from my work. But when I finally took a short lunch break and picked up the device, my stomach completely dropped.

Mia had sent me a direct link to an internet page. Along with the link, she had typed a quick message that made my heart stop.

Mia: Girl… you need to open this and look at it right now.

I clicked on the blue link with a shaking thumb. It opened up a very popular Chicago sports gossip i********: account that had hundreds of thousands of followers. I gasped out loud, covering my mouth. Someone from inside my very own office had clearly taken a secret picture of my private desk area earlier that morning. The photo clearly showed my computer screen completely blocked by that massive, giant bouquet of one hundred deep red roses.

The caption underneath the photo read:

“Looks like The Beast has officially claimed someone new in the city! Sources tell us that team captain Khalid AlMansour sent 100 longstemmed roses to a mystery woman at her workplace downtown this morning. Who is the lucky girl? Drop your best guesses below in the comments! #ChicagoArcticWolves #TheBeast #HockeyRomance”

The online post already had over eighteen thousand likes, and the numbers were jumping up higher every single second I stared at the screen. The comments from random strangers were pouring in fast, and they were incredibly mean.

“Wait, she works at some normal community center? The Beast is totally slumming it now,” one person wrote.

“I bet she is just another basic puck bunny who finally figured out a way to trap a rich athlete,” another comment read.

“One hundred roses? That is total wife behavior right there. Someone spill the tea right now, who is this random girl?!”

My hands started shaking so violently that I almost dropped my phone onto my lap. This was exactly the kind of nightmare I had been so deeply afraid of from the very beginning. I had specifically looked Khalid dead in the eyes and told him no media drama. I had demanded no bright spotlights on my private life. And yet, here I was on Day Two of our agreement trending on sports Twitter within hours because of a simple bouquet of flowers.

“Venessa?”

Lena’s soft voice suddenly pulled me back to reality. She was leaning over the gray office partition, but she looked genuinely concerned and worried now instead of playful and teasing. “Are you okay, girl? Mrs. Lillian just called down, and she wants to see you in her private office right away.”

Of course she did. My heart sank into my shoes.

I stood up slowly, smoothed down my clothes, and walked down the long hallway. I stepped into her office and quietly closed the heavy wooden door behind me to get some privacy. My boss was sitting quietly behind her large desk with her laptop computer open. I could see the exact same gossip post glowing brightly on her screen.

“Venessa,” Mrs. Lillian started carefully, her voice gentle but serious. “Please understand that I am truly happy for you if this relationship is something positive in your life. But you have to remember who we are. We are a small community organization. We rely completely on public donations, state grants, and keeping a very clean, professional image in the neighborhood. This kind of wild public attention…” She gestured with her hand toward the gossip page on her screen. “It is already spreading way too fast. A few neighborhood parents have already called the front desk this morning asking about 'the hockey player drama' at the center. We really need to manage this situation before it gets out of hand.”

“I am so incredibly sorry, Mrs. Lilian ,” I whispered, my face burning with deep mortification. “I swear to you, I did not ask for any of this to happen. It was just… someone sent me flowers. I didn't know anyone would take a picture.”

Mrs. Lilian gave me a long, sympathetic look and sighed. “I know you didn't mean to cause a scene, Venessa. But in our line of work, public perception matters a whole lot. Maybe it would be best if you keep things very lowkey and quiet for a while?”

I nodded my head numbly, thanked her, and left her office as fast as I could. My entire body felt hot and sweaty with pure embarrassment. When I finally got back to the safety of my rolling chair, another text message from Khalid was already waiting for me on my phone.

Khalid: Dinner tonight, baby. I will pull up to pick you up at exactly 7:30. It is a very private spot, just like I promised you.

I typed back a response with cold, trembling fingers, not caring if I sounded angry.

Venessa: We need to talk right now, Khalid. Have you actually seen what people are posting online today?

Khalid: I saw the post. Just ignore the noise, Venessa. I am going to handle it.

Venessa: You gave me your word that there would be no media. This is exactly the nightmare I was so scared of.

He did not reply to that text immediately. The sudden silence from his end only made my anxiety grow ten times worse.

The rest of the work afternoon was completely unbearable to sit through. There were more quiet whispers in the hallways whenever I walked past. More people from other departments kept casually walking past my desk just to stare at the mountain of roses. One of the young summer interns even had the nerve to walk up and ask if she could take a selfie with the flowers “just for the memories.” By five o'clock in the evening, my nerves were completely shot, and I was entirely on edge. I ended up packing most of the roses into large plastic bags to take home to my apartment just to get them out of the office space, leaving only a tiny arrangement behind.

At exactly half past seven in the evening, the familiar heavy rumble of Khalid’s black Range Rover pulled up outside my apartment building. He stepped out into the freezing Chicago air wearing a long black winter coat over a dark wool sweater. He looked unfairly handsome, sharp, and far too calm for the massive storm he had just created in my life.

The exact second I opened the passenger door and slid into the leather seat, I turned my body toward him and let out all my anger.

“You promised me,” I said sharply, before he could even open his mouth to say hello to me. “You explicitly promised no media and no circus. And the very next morning, my entire professional workplace is trending on the internet because you wanted to show off with flowers.”

Khalid’s sharp jaw flexed tightly as he steered the massive SUV into the busy evening traffic. “I did not leak that photo to anyone, Venessa. Someone inside your own office took that picture and sent it in. I am already finding out who did it, and I will handle them.”

“Handle it how?” I laughed, the sound feeling bitter and hollow in my chest. “This is my real life, Khalid! This is my actual job. I work with young kids and struggling families who do not need to see my name dragged through trashy gossip pages on the internet. People online are already calling me a cheap golddigger and a puck bunny.”

His large hands tightened on the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned completely white in the dim dashboard light. “Let the losers talk all they want. They don’t know a single thing about who you really are.”

“But they are talking about me, Khalid! They are not saying bad things about you. You get to be the big, romantic sports hero while I get labeled as the loose woman who somehow trapped a rich athlete just because I bumped into him at a party.”

He went completely quiet for a very long moment. The bright yellow city streetlights flickered across his sharp, rugged profile as he drove through the dark streets. Finally, he reached his large right hand across the center console and took hold of my hand. His grip was incredibly warm, thick, and firm against my cold fingers.

“I am truly sorry, Venessa,” he said softly. And to my absolute surprise, his deep voice sounded completely genuine, like he really meant the words. “I only wanted to make you smile today. I did not mean to stress you out at your job. But you have to understand that this is a normal part of my world. Once the public figures out that I am actually serious about a woman, the outside noise starts instantly. I should have warned you better about how fast things move.”

I pulled my hand back out of his grip, even though a small, weak part of my heart didn't really want to lose his warmth. “This is only Day Three of our ninety days, Khalid. If things are already this bad right now, what is going to happen in a month? What happens when the ninety days end and you just walk away like you promised to do? I will be the one left behind in Chicago trying to clean up this giant mess while you get to go back to being an untouchable superstar.”

He steered the car down a ramp into a very discreet, private underground parking lot that was attached to an exclusive rooftop restaurant downtown. Instead of turning off the engine and getting out, he turned his massive body in the seat to face me fully. His dark eyes were burning with an intense, raw emotion.

“I am not walking away from you, Venessa,” he said, his voice dropping to that low, heavy alpha growl that always made my stomach melt. “Not at the end of ninety days. Not ever, if I have my way about this. I am going to protect you from all this online trash. My team's public relations handlers are already working on it right now. They will find a way to spin the story into something positive, or they will bury the post completely so no one can find it.”

I stared at him, my heart racing at a dangerous speed. “I didn't sign up to need protection from the media, Khalid. I signed up for ninety days just to see if this connection between us could be something real.”

“It is real,” he whispered, leaning closer to me in the dark car. “And I am absolutely not letting a bunch of internet gossip or jealous strangers take you away from me.”

We eventually left the car and took a private elevator upstairs to the beautiful restaurant terrace he had reserved for the night. The view of the glowing Chicago skyline through the glass walls was absolutely stunning. The table was set beautifully with burning candles, white tablecloths, and large privacy screens so no other diners could see us. But despite the luxury, I could not fully relax my body. My phone in my purse kept buzzing with silent vibrations more online notifications, more tags, and more people speculating about my identity.

Halfway through our dinner, just as the main course arrived, Khalid’s own phone started ringing loudly on the table. He glanced down at the screen and cursed under his breath, his face instantly hardening into a mask of anger.

“It is the head director of the hockey team's PR department,” he told me, his eyes serious. He swiped the screen and answered the call on speakerphone so I could hear every single word. “Yeah, talk to me. What is the status?”

A sharp, professional female voice came loudly through the phone speaker. “Khalid, we have a growing situation on our hands. The rose story from this morning is completely blowing up on sports blogs. Some of the bigger celebrity accounts are already trying to dig into this girl's personal background and find out where she went to school. We highly recommend that you let us put out a light public statement saying this is just a casual, fun fling, or we can leak a story that you are still single”

“It is not casual,” Khalid cut her off instantly, his voice sounding like ice. His dark eyes locked onto mine across the candlelit table, holding me captive. “She belongs to me. You handle the narrative exactly like that. Shut down the worst websites immediately, and protect her privacy.”

He slammed his thumb down to hang up the phone, not even waiting for the woman to reply. He reached across the small table and took my hand into his large, rough palm again. This time, I didn't have the strength to pull away from him.

“I told you that I was going to chase you properly, Venessa,” he said softly, his thumb gently rubbing circles against my skin. “This media madness is just part of that chase. The ugly part. But I promise I will shield you from the worst of it as much as I humanly can.”

I looked down at our joined handshis massive, scarred athlete's fingers resting against my smaller ones. The scary exposure to his famous world had only just begun, and I already felt completely naked and vulnerable to the public.

Yet, when I lifted my chin and met his burning gaze again, that dangerous, addictive spark was still alive between us. It felt even stronger than it had the night before.

“I am really scared, Khalid,” I admitted in a quiet, honest whisper.

His thumb gently stroked over my knuckles, his touch feeling like a warm anchor in the storm. “Good. Be a little scared, little liar. But please do not run away from me. Just give me the honest chance to prove to you that I am worth every single headline in the city.”

As we finally finished our dinner in the quiet restaurant, my phone screen lit up one last time with a fresh notification. A major sports blog had just published a brand new article online titled:

“Who Is Khalid AlMansour’s New Mystery Woman? 100 Roses, A Community Center, and Chicago's Hottest Secret Romance.”

I swallowed hard, a chill running down my spine despite the warm heaters on the terrace.

The ninetyday clock had barely even started ticking, and the entire outside world was already trying its absolute best to tear us apart.