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By the time the elevator doors opened, Bennett was standing stiffly, prepared for the worst. But when Nico appeared, looking perfect in dark wash jeans and an expensive-looking button-down shirt, Bennett felt like he’d been sucker punched. This is what I gave up, he reminded himself. They could still be fuck buddies, random hookups when the mood struck, with no feelings to ruin it, if only Bennett had kept his shit together. God, I’m an idiot.
Nico stopped in the hall and their eyes held. There was an uncharacteristic wariness in Nico’s gaze that Bennett didn’t know how to interpret. “May I come in?” he asked in his deep, accented voice.
Bennett’s heart squeezed, but he locked it down. Now was not the time. “Of course.” He stepped back and held open the door. He maintained a professional distance between them, even after Nico entered the apartment.
And Nico did the same, walking in and immediately crossing to the other side of the living room.
Okay, then. Message received.
Business, not personal. Bennett couldn’t wait to hear what Toronto got in return for trading him—it had better be a fucking lot. He closed the door gently and took a few breaths to try and calm his racing heart. Then they were facing each other, expressions blank, no one speaking. Nico seemed perfectly content to take up space in Bennett’s apartment without revealing why he’d come.
One of them would have to break the ice. Winnipeg waited for no man.
Folding his arms, Bennett said, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
Nico nodded once. “I tried to get the announcement postponed until tomorrow. But it leaked today. I wanted—I thought—”
“You thought, what?” Bennett prompted into the silence.
“I wanted to tell you myself. Before you saw it online.”
That seemed Nico’s style. Deliver bad news personally. That way, he could soak in the genuine reaction unsoftened by time. “Hard to keep hockey news quiet in Toronto.”
“Yes, I am learning this.” His head cocked as his gaze continued to watch Bennett. “You are angry.”
“Not angry. Confused. You spent almost five billion dollars to buy a hockey team. I’m just waiting to hear why.”
“You think there is a bad reason.”
“I know there is a bad reason,” Bennett said. “I’m just bracing myself for it.”
“Maybe it is a good business investment.”
Bennett actually laughed at that. “Sure. That’s what this is—a good business investment. For you.”
“My cousin is the official owner, not me.”
“Yes, I saw. And I’m sure you’ll have no input on anything, like personnel, players. Contracts. Trades.”
“I do not intend to run the team or the arena, Bennett. If you thought otherwise, you are wrong.”
God, Nico was so calm that it actually made Bennett angry. The mob boss was fucking with Bennett’s professional life, his job, and lying about it to Bennett’s face. “Right,” he said disbelievingly. “I know this is about revenge. So, just give me the bad news already.”
“Bad news?” Nico slipped his hands into his pockets, looking so classy and sexy that it made Bennett’s teeth ache. “This is not revenge for Sewell. This is both a business and a personal decision.”
“Sure.”
The single word dripped with sarcasm, and the edges of Nico’s mouth curled downward in a frown. “You keep saying this word, but it is true. First, I need more legitimate businesses for reasons that are not worth going into. And second . . .”
No second reason came. Nico’s jaw remained tight, as if he was wrestling with something. Bennett decided to fill in the blanks. “And second, you think Winnipeg might be a good fit for me.”
Nico’s eyebrows pinched, his gaze narrowing. “Why the fuck are you talking about Winnipeg?”
“Just say you’re trading me, Marzano.”
Nico threw up his hands in a dismissive gesture Bennett well recognized. “I am not trading you. Madre di Dio! You are inventing reasons to be pissed at me.”
“Not a huge leap,” Bennett said, even more confused. If this wasn’t about trading him, then what the fuck was this about?
