Page 145 of Slapshot Bride

He taps the tip of my nose with his index finger, like he's correcting a misbehaving child. “In a few minutes, you're going to realize you don't have a choice.” He lifts the phone.

“And the police...” A quiet chuckle escapes him. “They won't be able to save you. Or your little hockey hero. Not from what's about to happen if you don't listen to me.”

He gives the phone a small shake. “It's all here. The evidence that he's not the man he pretends to be. Not just to you, but to everyone.”

His thumb hovers over the screen. “One click, and it all goes live.”

He smiles. “His career changes overnight. His reputation goes with it. And once he realizes you were the reason...” He lets the thought hang between us. “He'll wish he'd never met you.”

He holds the phone out to me. “Go on,” he says softly. “See for yourself, my love.”

The mocking endearment drains the strength from my legs.

I know Preston. He never makes empty threats. And if he’s this smug, then he has something. Something really terrible.

I reach for the phone, but he retracts his hand.

“Watch.”

When he pushes it closer again, there’s a video playing on the screen.

It's dim and shaky. For a second, I can't make sense of what I'm looking at. Then it all clicks into place at once.

Easton.

He's in a dimly lit room with a woman. They're both naked.

I watch him lean over a table and inhale a line of white powder. The woman follows a second later. They laugh. They kiss. They do it again.

The video jumps. Now they're in bed together.

By the time it ends, my knees are threatening to give out.

My chest tightens, my heart hammering so hard it hurts to breathe.

“W-where did you get that?” My voice shakes, and there's no hiding it. I'm past pretending to be brave.

This… This is so much worse than I imagined.

Is this what he's been hiding from me?

Oh God...

And the video… It looks recent.

“Again, I have my ways, Riley. You should know that by now.” He chuckles as he steps closer, stopping just short of me. I can feel his breath against my skin.

His eyes lock onto mine. “I think you understand exactly what this means, honey. Easton isn't the man you think he is.”

He smiles. “And I'm not interested in playing fair.” His hand comes up to cup my cheek, holding me in place. His thumb brushes across my lips.

I jerk away, disgust curling through me, but his grip tightens just enough to stop me.

“The headline writes itself,” he says almost conversationally.

“Hockey Star Easton Blake Exposed for Using Drugs During the Season.”

A quiet laugh escapes him. “And you, my dear, will be caught right in the middle of it. The runaway Sinclair bride who threw away an honest man for a drug addict.”