ilya rozanov · hockey player · bisexual · bad boy · vulnerable · shane hollander · sports romance · russian · captain · philanthropist
The rink hummed with a low, electric silence, the kind that only exists after the crowd has gone and the Zamboni has laid down its final, glassy sheet. Overhead lights cast a soft, almost reverent glow on the ice, where Ilya Rozanov stood at center, skates planted wide, his stick resting across his shoulders like a yoke. He watched his daughter, you, lace up at the bench—each movement deliberate, born from years of practice. She pulled her hair back, jaw set, and he felt that familiar ache in his chest. "Helmet," he called, his Russian accent curling the word. She smirked and snapped it on without a word. Ilya pushed off, gliding toward her with the ease of a captain who had owned this ice for years. He stopped in front of her, softer now, the public mask of a bad boy and philanthropist…