Two Can Play

~BECKETT~

I was still furious.

The anger humming under my skin was a restless, toxic thing. I was not just pissed at my father for liquidating my future like a struggling business asset. I was furious with my own lack of discipline. The memory of the altar was playing on a relentless, mocking loop in my head. When Hadley pressed her mouth to mine in front of that priest, my brain had suffered a massive short-circuit.

I had walked into that church heavily armored. I intended to treat this sham of an arranged marriage as a cold, necessary transaction. It was ink on a contract. It was a debt being paid to Harrison Davenport to keep my family’s empire from crumbling. But the second Hadley’s lips parted against mine, my strategy evaporated. I had taken control of the kiss without a single thought. I kissed her back like I actually meant it.

I hated that I enjoyed the soft, yielding heat of her mouth. I hated the way my hand had naturally clamped onto her waist, fingers digging into the silk of her dress like she belonged to me. For a few dangerous seconds, I had forgotten the hundreds of guests watching us. I had forgotten Daphne. I had forgotten every single reason I needed to keep my new bride at arm’s length. Worst of all, the taste of her still lingered on my tongue, refusing to fade no matter how much alcohol I swallowed.

The reception was a sprawling, chaotic mess of forced celebrations. The after-party spilled out from the mansion’s main floor onto the massive stone terrace. Servers navigated the sea of designer suits and gowns with silver trays of expensive champagne. People laughed over the loud music. They patted my shoulder and offered hollow congratulations as if this were a genuine love match. I accepted the handshakes. I nodded at the right times. I tuned out the meaningless noise.

Then my eyes locked onto a face that made my blood run ice-cold.

Garrett Lockwood.

My biggest rival on the ice stood near the open terrace bar, nursing a drink and looking entirely too comfortable for a man trespassing in my territory. His new wife hovered right at his side, flashing a bright smile like she owned the damn venue.

My jaw locked so hard my teeth ached. We were rival captains. We could barely share the same stretch of ice without throwing punches and dragging each other into the penalty box. The history between us was paved with cheap shots, stolen titles, and pure, unfiltered hatred. He had absolutely no business breathing the air at my wedding. It was impossible to get past the security gates without an official invitation. I certainly did not put his name on the guest list.

My fingers dug into the crystal glass in my hand. I slammed it down onto a passing server’s tray without looking and shoved my way through the thick crowd. The guests recognized the dark look on my face and quickly stepped aside.

Garrett spotted me tracking toward him. His smug expression did not waver. He leaned in, murmured a quick comment to his wife, and turned his chest toward me, bracing for the inevitable hit.

"What the fuck are you doing at my wedding?" I demanded, stepping right into his personal space.

Garrett took a slow, deliberate sip of his liquor. "Relax, Calloway. Your wife invited me."

The words hit my chest like a hockey stick.

Hadley.

She did this. She had personally mailed an invitation to my worst enemy. This was her calculated retaliation. She had overheard my private conversation with Daphne before the ceremony. I had cornered Hadley in that hallway and warned her I would make her hate me. This was her immediate counterattack. She was showing me she could play the game just as dirty.

Garrett watched the realization wash over my face. His grin stretched wider, showcasing his teeth. "You had no idea. Did you?"

"I didn't." I kept my voice flat, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Interesting." Garrett tilted his glass toward me in a mock salute. "Maybe she thought it would be fun to watch us circle each other tonight. Or maybe she just doesn't care about your little hockey rivalry. Either way, I am here. The drinks are free, so I am definitely not complaining."

"You shouldn't have shown your face here. You know damn well the invitation didn't come from me." I stared him down, my fists curling at my sides.

"Funny. It doesn't look like I needed your permission to get in. Does it?" Garrett took another sip, his eyes gleaming with open mockery. "It didn't take you long to get hitched after me. I walk down the aisle, and suddenly you are getting married the exact same week. You must have been desperate to marry her."

"Watch your mouth." I took half a step forward.

"Or what? You are going to start a brawl right here? In the middle of your own reception?" Garrett let out a dry, hacking laugh. "Very classy, Calloway."

"You do not belong in this room. This party is strictly for people with real talent." I shot back.

"I am here because I was invited. Maybe you should take that up with your new wife instead of throwing a tantrum in front of all these investors."

"I heard you the first time. Hadley invited you. And I know exactly why." I kept my tone level, though my heart was hammering a violent rhythm against my ribs.

Garrett snorted, shaking his head. "Do you? I highly doubt that. You have been married for a few hours and your wife is already inviting your biggest rival to the party. That is rough, man. Maybe you are just sour that you didn't receive an invitation to my wedding."

A sudden, violent surge of heat flooded my veins.

"I heard your wedding wasn't anything special. I wasn't the only one who skipped it." I let a cold, arrogant smirk touch my lips. "Look around, Lockwood. Every heavy hitter in the league is standing on this terrace. All the important people are drinking my champagne. Half of your own guest list didn't even bother showing up for you."

Garrett’s smile thinned into a hard line. His wife stiffened beside him, her eyes darting between us as the tension ratcheted up another notch.

"Your wife must have a hard time every night. I actually feel sorry for her." Garrett dropped his voice to a malicious sneer.

"Worry about pleasing your own wife." He pressed closer. "You must be pathetic if you resorted to marrying her."

The urge to drag him over the mahogany bar hit me out of nowhere. I wanted to smash my knuckles straight into his jaw. I wanted to break his nose for daring to insult Hadley. The protective instinct caught me totally off guard. It was sharp, territorial, and deeply possessive. I did not even like the woman I had just married. She was a burden. But she was my wife, and nobody got to disrespect what was mine.

"The only desperate one standing here is you." I leaned in, dropping my voice to a lethal register. "You showed up to a place where you weren't wanted just to remind yourself you are irrelevant."

"Keep telling yourself that, Calloway." Garrett glared at me.

Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of white broke my focus.

I shifted my gaze away from the bar. Hadley was moving through the sea of dark suits and shimmering evening gowns. She was walking alongside her sister, still swallowed up in that massive, intricate wedding dress. She was still wearing the same fake, polite expression she had carried all day.

Then she stopped.

She turned her head. Across the crowded, noisy terrace, her eyes locked squarely onto mine.

I searched her face for a hint of regret. There was none. Not a single ounce of apology. Her chin tipped up in a quiet, deliberate acknowledgment. She knew exactly who she had brought into my territory. She had struck the match, and she was standing back to watch the fire burn.

A different kind of heat stirred in my chest. It was a dark, dangerous, competitive thrill.

If Hadley Davenport wanted to wage a private war behind closed doors, she had severely underestimated her opponent. She thought a petty stunt with an invitation would throw me off my game. She was wrong.

I broke eye contact with my unapologetic bride and looked back at the has-been standing in front of me.

"Enjoy the free drinks, Garrett. You look like you need them."

I turned my back on him and walked away before he could spit out another pathetic comeback. The anger was still buzzing under my skin, but it was mixed with a harsh reality check. I had planned to ignore my arranged bride. I had planned to stick her in a corner and live my life exactly as I wanted. But as I mentally replayed the fierce defiance burning in Hadley's eyes, I knew the absolute truth.

My unwanted wife was going to be impossible to ignore.