Chapter 112: An Uninvited Evening Guest

Damon’s POV

The locker room erupted into wild, deafening cheers.

"CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN!" the guys began chanting in unison, banging their fists against the lockers and pumping their helmets in the air.

I leaned against the wall, smirking at the absolute spectacle. Noah really knew how to control a room full of aggressive athletes with just a few words. But as the chant echoed off the walls, a sudden realization hit my brain like a cold splash of water.

My smirk faded, and my eyes darted around the crowded room.

Wait a second... Where the hell is Micah?

I had assumed the little guy would be clinging to Noah’s side after yesterday’s disaster, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, a sharp, loud ring tone cut through the locker room noise. Noah reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and checked the screen. The moment he saw the caller ID, his dark eyebrows instantly furrowed into a deep, tight scowl. He swiped the screen and answered almost immediately, pressing the phone to his ear while turning the speaker up just enough for his sharp hearing.

"Talk to me," Noah commanded flatly.

"Noah..."

A soft, hesitant, sweet voice leaked out from the phone speaker, audible to me even over the dull roar of our chanting teammates.

My heart did a sudden, familiar flip in my chest. Micah.

"I... I saw the news online," Micah’s timid voice continued through the line, sounding breathless and deeply relieved. "I’m so glad everything was settled properly at the school gate."

"Hmm," Noah hummed, pulling his dark jersey completely out of his locker with his free hand. His tone was clipped, completely devoid of the warmth he usually reserved for his brother. "Is that the only reason you called?"

"Oh... no," Micah replied softly.

There was a sudden, heavy pause on the line. Micah’s voice dropped so low it was almost a whisper, trembling with a sudden, suffocating terror that made my own stomach tighten.

"F-father is coming home this evening," Micah stammered out, his breath shaking violently.

The entire atmosphere around Noah instantly turned sub-zero.

The quiet, controlled composure Noah had been maintaining all morning completely vanished. His hand tightened around his hockey jersey so hard the fabric groaned, and a dark, lethal rage flickered across his face.

"What?" Noah demanded, his voice dropping an octave into a dangerous growl. "Why is he coming back? Did he speak to you directly?"

He tossed his jersey back into the metal locker and slammed the heavy door shut with a loud, metallic BANG that made a few nearby teammates jump in surprise.

"He... he sent me tons of terrifying text messages," Micah confessed, his trembling voice trying so hard to sound calm, but failing miserably. "He said... he said I better have a really good excuse for ignoring his messages all morning. Excuses that... that must be greater than my own death."

A cold, bitter smirk tugged at the corner of Noah’s lips, though his eyes remained terrifyingly dead. "Go on."

"He also said he’s been trying to reach you on your phone all morning, but your line keeps going straight to voicemail," Micah added nervously. "He was furious, Noah."

"I see," Noah said, rolling his eyes with absolute disdain and boredom. "Well, that’s simply because I blocked his number three days ago."

"Wh-what?!" Micah stuttered in complete, horrified shock over the phone.

My jaw almost hit the concrete floor of the locker room.

He blocked his own father’s phone number?!

I stared at Noah in shock. The Miller family head was one of the most ruthless, terrifying figures in the entire city... a preacher who controlled his sons with an iron fist. And Noah just casually blocked the guy’s number like he was a spam caller? This guy was truly an unhinged lunatic. I loved it.

Before Micah could spiral into a full-blown panic attack on the phone, Noah instantly softened his tone, taking total control of the situation.

"I’ll handle him," Noah ordered firmly. "Don’t panic. Just turn around and head straight back home right now."

"But... I’m almost at the sports arena," Micah protested softly. "I took a cab right after leaving the club..."

"Then tell the driver to turn the car around and take you back to the house," Noah interrupted, his voice leaving zero room for negotiation. "Clean yourself up. Get everywhere in the house ready. Make sure dinner is prepared before he arrives or maybe I’ll handle it once I get there. I’ll be right behind you as soon as I wrap things up here. Text me immediately if you need anything."

A soft, hesitant exhale came through the speaker. "Okay, Noah... I will. See you soon."

"See you," Noah muttered, and disconnected the line with a sharp tap of his thumb.

Noah let out a long, heavy sigh through his nose, his shoulders tense as his dark eyes slowly shifted to the side. He caught me standing just a few feet away, leaning against the locker with a wide, amused grin plastered across my face.

Noah’s forehead instantly creased into an irritated frown.

"You’re still sick," Noah snapped coldly, staring at me like I was a piece of trash glued to his shoe. "Why the hell are you still standing here?"

"I came here to see Micah, obviously," I replied effortlessly, pushing myself off the wall.

Since it was clear as day that Noah was about to abandon training and rush home to protect his precious little brother, and Micah was currently heading back to their house, there was absolutely zero point in me hanging around this smelly locker room any longer. I turned on my heel, ready to walk out the door and go back home.

A sharp pang of disappointment hit my chest. I was genuinely pained that I didn’t get to see my darling, cute Micah today. I had missed his soft face, his big anxious eyes, and his adorable reactions to my flirting.

I took two steps toward the exit... and then I suddenly froze dead in my tracks.

Wait a minute.

My brain processed the phone call I had just eavesdropped on.

’Father is coming home this evening.’

Micah was currently heading home all by himself, terrified out of his mind, tasked with preparing dinner for a cruel, abusive father who threatened him with death over text messages. Noah was going to show up later.

A massive, slow, terribly wicked grin slowly spread across my face.

Family drama. Extreme tension. A terrified, vulnerable Micah who would desperately need someone fun and comforting to protect him from his scary family.

It was a golden, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity handed to me on a silver platter. Why the hell would I stay home and rest when I could be right in the middle of the most chaotic dinner party of the year?

I turned back around to look at Noah one last time, my eyes twinkling with pure, unadulterated mischief.

"Well," I purred, my grin widening into a predatory smile as I adjusted my jacket. "I guess I just have to visit your house in the evening then."

Noah froze. He slowly turned his neck toward me, his face turning terrifyingly dark. The air in the locker room dropped below zero in a second.

"If you step one foot inside my home tonight, Vance," Noah said, his voice deadly quiet, "I won’t just break your legs. I will bury you in the backyard."

I just laughed out loud, waving my hand dismissively as I backed toward the door. "Oh, come on, Captain! You can’t handle your scary old man all by yourself. Besides, Micah needs a sweet, friendly face around to keep him sane... not two grumpy, terrifying Millers glaring at each other over roast beef!"

Before Noah could throw a hockey helmet at my head, I turned around and sprinted out of the locker room, my heart hammering against my ribs in pure, unadulterated excitement.

My body was still slightly weak from yesterday’s fever, but the intense rush of adrenaline completely wiped away the lingering exhaustion. The thought of seeing Micah again... and better yet, stepping right into the lion’s den to save him from his miserable family atmosphere made my blood hum with absolute joy.

I rushed out of the sports arena, rushed into my car, and decided to take matters into my own hands. I needed to look sharp tonight. If I was going to crash the Miller residence, I had to look like an absolute prince doing it.

I spent the next two hours heading back to my mansion, showering off the stale locker room scent, and changing into a ridiculously expensive tailored black shirt and custom trousers. I styled my hair carefully, sprayed my favorite expensive cologne, and grabbed a box of high-end French pastries from the best bakery in town.

I was sure Micah would loved sweet things. A little gift would definitely make his anxious face light up.

Oh! I just couldn’t wait to see him.