Fake Love With The Hockey Prince

Chapter 1

My feet dragged slowly as I stepped out of the hospital’s glass doors. The afternoon sun felt too bright and heavy on my shoulders. My chest felt tight, like a cold stone sat right over my heart and would not move.

For one whole year now, my grandmother has lain in that ward, fighting lung cancer. Every day I worried. Every night, I prayed she would get better, even though deep down I knew the truth. The doctors said it was end-stage. She would not last another six months without constant care.

Today, after I sat beside her bed and held her thin hand, the finance officer called me over. He handed me a folded sheet of paper with a sad, pitying look that made my skin burn.

I unfolded it. My hands trembled so much that the edges crinkled loudly. The total bill was huge. Far bigger than anything I had expected.

I bit my lip hard to hold back tears. I was called a rising starlet now. More roles have come in these past months. But almost every penny I earned went straight here. For her bitter medicine. For her special machines. For every extra day, she drew breath. Now even all that was not enough. My savings were almost gone. If I could not find a large sum very soon, they would stop her treatment completely. And Grandma would certainly die. She would not last even one month.

That thought hurt worse than any blow. Grandma raised me alone after my parents split up when I was five. She worked hard until her hands grew rough and swollen. She skipped meals so I could eat. She told me I could shine even when I felt small. I could not fail the only person who never gave up on me. I would never let her down.

I pulled my face mask tight and walked to the bus stop with my head down. My mind spun round and round in sick circles. What more could I do? Who else could I turn to? Fear gnawed at me. I was running out of time.

After I got off the bus, I stood before the Grand City Hotel and took a long, shaky breath. I have a meeting with Mr. Froilan. This meeting was my last real hope. I would not let it slip away.

Mr. Froilan was an investor in a big new drama, and he wanted me for the lead role. If I got this part, the pay would cover the hospital for months. Maybe until the very end.

I smoothed my simple dress over and over. My palms were damp. Be brave, I told myself. Focus. This is for Grandma.

The man waiting inside a luxury suite was older, with a wide, oily smile that never reached his eyes. At first, we spoke about the story. He said my name, my look, my acting all fit perfectly. Hope swelled warm in my chest.

Then he leaned far back in his chair and dragged his eyes slowly up and down my body. That gaze felt sticky and dirty, like slime.

“You know how these things work, Sky,” he said softly and smugly. “I decide who gets this project. I sign every check. I can lift you higher than anyone else this year.”

“Thank you,” I said carefully. “I will work harder than anyone. I will not let you down.”

He laughed low and ugly. “Hard work means nothing here. I want something far more personal. Come closer. Be nice to me. Stay here and spend the night with me. Then the role is yours one hundred percent.”

My blood turned to ice. My throat went dry. I stood up fast, my knees knocking. “No! That is wrong. I will earn this role with my talent. Not like that.”

His smile vanished. His face twisted, sharp and mean. He stood too and stepped right between me and the door. “Do not act so innocent. Everyone whispers how desperate you are for cash. I can smell it. You will do exactly what I tell you.”

He lunged forward. Grabbed my wrist so tight his nails dug into my skin. Pulled me hard against him.

Pure panic exploded through me. This disgusting old man thought he could buy me. He thought I was like others who traded themselves for fame. But I would not break like that. Not for him. Not for anyone.

I gathered every last bit of strength and drove my knee hard right into his stomach.

He gasped loudly and doubled over. His grip fell loose.

I did not wait one heartbeat. I spun around, wrenched the door open, and ran for my life.

“Get her!” he roared behind me. “Don’t you dare let her get away!”

Heavy boots thundered fast after me down the hall. Two huge men burst into sight. His bodyguards. They ate up the ground in seconds.

My lungs burned like fire. My legs felt weak as water. If they dragged me back there, I knew what he would do to me. I shivered so hard I almost stumbled. I had to keep running. I had to.

I glanced wildly left and right. Every door stayed shut tight. Then, just ahead, one suite door swung open wide.

I did not think. I did not plan. I threw myself straight inside.

A tall, broad man stood near the window. Clear water dripped from his messy dark hair down over strong shoulders. He wore only a loose white bathrobe tied simply at his waist. My breath caught hard. I knew that face. That build. It was Drake Frazen. Everyone called him the cold hockey prince. The most famous, most distant man in sports.

"Who are you and what are you doing here, lady?" he snapped and pushed me away from him. His voice was cold and firm.

"Please, help me," I begged him. He turned fast, eyes wide and confused.

My eyes widened when I heard a few knocks on the door that I forgot to close earlier. Thinking that they might be the bodyguards chasing after me, an idea suddenly popped into my mind.

Before he could speak or step back, I rushed right up to him. Curled both hands around his face, pulled his head down, and pressed my lips hard to mine.

It was the craziest, most desperate trick I had ever thought of. If the guards glanced in, they would see a couple lost in a private moment. They would never guess I was running for my life. They would keep searching somewhere else.

Drake stiffened all over. He went perfectly still under my touch. For one crazy heartbeat, my fear faded. His lips were warm and soft. A strange, sharp tingle ran through me. I felt something shift deep inside me, too.

He made a low sound of surprise and tensed to push me away.

In that same second, several bright flashes lit up the whole room over and over.

We sprang apart like we had touched burning metal. We both twisted toward the open doorway.

There stood a paparazzi. He was standing in the middle of the door, grinning widely. He held his camera up high, already snapping shot after shot.