Chapter Two Hundred and Four
Khalid’s POV
The rain hammered aggressively against the reinforced glass windows of my private holding room at the Manchester arena, matching the dark, rhythmic thud of my heart. The distant roar of the crowd was finally fading away, but the cold adrenaline inside my veins was only burning hotter.
Zara truly believed she was the smartest person in any room she walked into. She always had. She looked at my passion for hockey—from my early days on the ice in Chicago to here in Manchester—as a childish distraction, a weakness she could exploit. She thought that while I was bleeding on the ice, she was the one doing the real work. She thought that after our father passed away back home in the Arabian Gulf, her time running the day-to-day operations at the main h
