Chapter 2

Felicity Roman POV:

By noon the next day, I woke up in my Beacon Hill brownstone. After a quick lunch, I drove to the TD Garden arena. I needed the hard copies of the team's injury assessment reports for an afternoon board meeting, which I kept safely locked in my private VIP suite.

I swiped my master access badge at the underground elevator. The doors opened to the penthouse suite level.

I walked down the hallway and pushed open the heavy walnut doors of Suite 101.

"Garold, you're finally back..." Karlie's sweet, breathy voice floated from the leather sofa.

The moment she saw my face, her bright smile froze, instantly replaced by a panicked, innocent pout.

She was sitting on my custom Italian leather sofa, wearing Garold's black-and-gold #88 Bruins jersey. It was comically oversized on her petite frame, the hem barely covering her bare thighs.

"Where is he?" I asked, my voice as cold as the ice rink below.

Karlie shrank back, her hands nervously tugging at the hem of his jersey. "Sister Roman... please don't misunderstand. My period suddenly started, and Garold was afraid I'd catch a cold, so he gave me his jersey..."

She bit her lip, looking at me with wide, doe-like eyes. "He went down to the convenience store to buy me some feminine products."

I crossed my arms, looking at her pathetic performance.

My heart didn't even ache anymore; the sheer absurdity of it all just made me want to laugh.

During our three years of marriage, there were times when my menstrual cramps were so severe I was covered in cold sweat after a grueling surgery. Garold would only frown in annoyance and tell me, "Take a painkiller and stop being so dramatic."

Yet now, the untouchable, arrogant billionaire captain was personally running errands to buy sanitary pads for his little mistress.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor behind me.

Blake, the Bruins' alternate captain and Garold's close buddy, strolled toward the open door with a disgusting smirk on his face.

"Karlie, what's taking Garold so long to buy a simple pad? Are you getting too impatient waiting for your man..."

Blake's lewd joke died in his throat the second he saw me standing in the doorway.

His face turned pale. He awkwardly cleared his throat, avoiding my eyes, and practically sprinted away down the hall like he had seen a ghost.

Karlie's face flushed red, but before she could speak, a massive figure appeared behind me.

It was Garold.

He was holding a cheap black plastic bag—undoubtedly filled with women's sanitary products.

When his pitch-black eyes landed on me, a brief flicker of genuine guilt crossed his face, but it was instantly swallowed by defensive arrogance.

"Are you following me?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a harsh rumble. "Felicity, haven't you caused enough of a scene?"

I looked at the black plastic bag in his hand, my lips curving into a mocking smile. I walked over to the built-in cabinet, unlocked it, pulled out my medical files, and turned back to him.

"I just came to get my documents. But I must say, seeing the great Captain Peck personally running errands to buy sanitary pads is truly touching."

I walked past him, pausing just enough to whisper coldly, "Just don't dirty my private suite with your cheap affairs."

Without giving him a single second to respond, I walked out and slammed the heavy walnut door shut, leaving them both behind.