Chapter 18 Empire
Gavin’s POV
“Good morning, Mr. Cross.”
The security guard at the front entrance nodded as I walked through the glass doors. Two maintenance workers by the elevators straightened immediately.
“Morning, Mr. Cross.”
“Good morning, sir.”
I’d lost count of how many times I’d told them to just call me Gavin. But I suppose that came with the territory…with the respect I’d earned over the years building this from nothing.
The New York Titans Arena rose forty stories into the Manhattan skyline. It is my empire.
I stepped into the private elevator, pressing the button for the executive level. Through the glass walls, I watched the city wake up below…cars filling the streets, people rushing to work, the organized chaos that was New York at 6 AM.
The doors opened to the fifth floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the main ice rink, where my team was already running morning drills. The sound of skates carving ice, sticks cracking against pucks,it was music to my ears.
This was what I’d built. What I’d bled for.
Five years ago, the Titans were a joke. Players were leaving in droves. Everyone told me I was insane to buy them. That I was throwing away my money.
Now we were Stanley Cup contenders.
I stood at the window, with a coffee in my hand, watching the players move through their formations. Johnson took a slap shot that rocketed past the goalie’s glove. They had perfect form and execution.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Coach Reynolds’s voice boomed across the ice. “Again! Twenty more like that!”
My phone buzzed with a text from Marcus.
Marcus: Stevens contract is finalized. Thompson’s agent said they’ll take the 1.5M.
Me: Good. Set up the signing for this afternoon.
I moved to my desk, pulling up last night’s game footage on the large screen mounted on the wall. We’d won 4-2 against Boston, but the defense had been sloppy in the third period.
I made notes, marking timestamps where plays had broken down. This was the work people didn’t see. The obsessive attention to every detail that separated good teams from championship teams.
My office door opened without a knock.
I didn’t look up. “Marcus, I told you I need those defensive stats by…”
“Hello, Gavin.”
That voice stopped me cold.
I looked up slowly.
Sophia Valdez stood in my doorway, wearing a crimson dress that probably cost more than most people’s salary for a year. Her dark hair fell in perfect waves. Red lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“It’s been too long,” she said, closing the door behind her.
My jaw tightened. “Sophia.”
“Is that all I get? After five years?” She walked toward my desk with deliberate slowness, her heels clicking against the hardwood. “I expected a warmer welcome.”
I set down my coffee. “How did you get past security?”
“Please.” She waved a dismissive hand. “You know my family has connections everywhere.”
Of course they did. The Valdez family didn’t operate within normal boundaries.
She reached my desk, her eyes scanning the desk with interest. She then set her eyes on the trophies that lined one wall.
Then her gaze landed on the frame sitting on the corner of my desk. My son, Jason , grinning at the camera in his racing suit beside his Formula 1 car.
Sophia picked it up, studying it. “I heard he’s coming home soon. From Boston, right?” She traced a finger along the frame. “Such a handsome man. He looks just like you did at that age.”
Ice flooded my veins, in the casual way she said that.
“Put it down.”
She set the photo back carefully, her smile sharpening. “Touchy. I’m just saying he’s grown into a fine young man. Your father would be proud.”
“What do you want, Sophia?”
She perched on the edge of my desk, crossing her legs. “Can’t an old friend visit?”
“We were never friends.”
“No?” She tilted her head. “Our families have been close for thirty years. Your father and mine built empires together…”
“My father built his empire. I built mine.” I gestured to the window overlooking the arena.
She laughed. The sound was sharp, and mocking. “Oh, Gavin. You can’t erase where you came from.”
“I’m not trying to erase anything. I’m living my life.”
“Your father doesn’t see it that way.” Her voice dropped, losing the playful edge. “He’s been asking about you. When you’re coming home to Medellín.”
“I’m not.”
“He’s getting older, Gavin. There are people…dangerous people…circling, waiting for him to show vulnerability.” She leaned forward. “And when they come for him, they’ll come for you too. Blood doesn’t forget.”
My hands clenched into fists beneath the desk. “If this is a threat…”
“It’s reality.” She stood, walking around to my side of the desk. “Come home. Take your place beside your father. Beside me.”
“I warned you about coming to my office, Sophia.”
“Gavin…”
“Whatever you want, whatever message your father sent, the answer is no.”
Her eyes hardened. “You’re making a mistake.”
“That’s my choice to make.”
We stared at each other. Five years of silence hanging between us. Five years of distance I’d deliberately put between myself and that world.
“Your father won’t wait forever,” she said finally.
“Then he’ll be disappointed.”
Sophia’s smile was cold. “We’ll see.”
She walked to the door, then paused. “Oh, and Gavin? I’ll be in New York for a while. For business. We’ll be seeing each other again soon.”
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
I stood there, my heart pounding with barely controlled fury.
I dialed Marcus' number immediately. Get me the head of security on the line. Now.
Within seconds, my phone rang.
“Cross.”
“Sir, this is Patterson. What do you need?”
“I need increased security monitoring. Someone just got past the front desk without clearance. I want to know how, and I want it fixed by the end of the day.”
“Understood. I’ll review the footage immediately.”
“And Patterson? Going forward, no one gets to my office without my approval. I don’t care who they are or what connections they claim to have.”
“Copy that, sir.”
I hung up and walked back to the window.
Below, my team was finishing their drills.
But Sophia’s visit had cracked a door I spent years keeping closed.
Her visit was simply to let me know she’d been watching my family.
That was a message.
My phone buzzed again with a text from Diana.
Diana: Don’t forget the wedding planner at 2! Love you.
I stared at the message.
I was supposed to be building a new life with her but underneath it all, the rot from my past threatened to poison everything I’d created.
I typed back: I’ll be there.
Then I opened a new message to my head of security.
Me: I need discreet surveillance on my family. All of them. Report anything unusual directly to me.
The response was immediate.
Security: Understood.
I set the phone down and turned back to the game footage.
This was my world now.
But Sophia’s words echoed in my head: You can’t erase where you came from.
Maybe not.
But I’d die before I let that world touch the people I loved.