Hated by the Mafia Hockey Star

Vida Moretti's POV

It was almost 10 pm when I finally stepped off the last bus. My legs wobbled from standing on them since morning. I had gone to school, then straight to my shift at the café. My hands were still sticky with syrup, and my shirt clung to my back, damp with sweat and the smell of brewed coffee and exhaustion. I hadn’t eaten since noon. But I didn’t care. I’d made it through today. That was enough.

I walked faster through the cracked sidewalks of the old neighborhood, holding my bag close like a shield. Inside was the confirmation slip for my full scholarship exam at Dravik University.

Dravik. Just the surname made my heart beat faster.

It wasn’t just about the prestige or the education. It was about freedom. A way out. A future I could finally shape with my own hands and because of him.

Khaelon Dravik.

The school’s heir. The Popular hockey star of Dravik University. I’d first seen him when I was seventeen. His name was everywhere. TV and magazines. Untouchable and powerful.

I watched him from the broken living room couch every night. He was on the screen, sharp and unstoppable. Khaelon didn’t know me. He never would.

But he inspired the fire in me to keep going. To reach for more than just survival and tonight, I was one step closer.

I reached the rusty front gate of the house and slipped inside quietly, hoping Aunt Liza had already gone to bed. But silence never meant safety here.

“Where the hell have you been?” Her voice sliced through the air and I froze.

She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes blazing with disgust. Her hair was wild, her breath reeking of cheap alcohol and cigarettes. Her expression made it clear I had already done something wrong.

“I just got home,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I stayed late at work. They needed help.”

“Of course you did,” she muttered bitterly.

“Sneaking around like a little tramp. Probably flirting with any men in your workplace,”

“I’m not flirting anyone. I’m working hard,” I replied quietly.

“I took the Dravik scholarship exam. I used part of my pay to hold the slot so I cannot give any penny for this month, Aunt”

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted it.

She stepped forward and slapped me, hard. My head snapped to the side, and I stumbled back against the wall. The sting spread across my cheek like fire.

“Are you insane?” she hissed.

“You used your pay on some useless dream instead of helping with the bills?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

She yanked my bag from my hands and threw it on the floor. “All these years, I fed you, gave you a roof while you played the role of some silent little saint, thinking you’re better than the rest of us.”

“I never said that,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to,” she spat. “Your mother left me with a burden when she died. That’s what you are, Vida. A burden. Dead weight. I should’ve never taken you in.”

I froze.

My mother. The soft voice that once sang me to sleep. The woman who kissed my scraped knees and whispered that I could be anything. Gone with my father. They said the car crash was instant. I hoped it was. I hoped they didn’t feel pain.

I was sixteen when it happened. Sixteen when I stood alone in a cold funeral hall, and no one hugged me. Sixteen when Aunt Liza showed up not out of love but out of obligation.

And now, here she was. Throwing it in my face.

“She begged me to take you,” she muttered, her voice dripping with resentment.

“But if she could see you now, maybe she’d realize all she left behind was a useless girl with a head full of garbage.”

I gripped the edge of the table, trying to stay upright. My face throbbed. My chest ached. But more than anything, her words dug into something deeper than my skin.

“I’m trying,” I whispered. “I just want to make something of myself. That’s not garbage.”

She laughed coldly. “You think you’ll get into Dravik? That rich school? That you’ll become somebody? You’ll never belong there, Vida. You’re nothing but a poor orphan chasing fairytales.”

Then she extended her hand. “Give me the rest of your pay. Now.”

“I don’t have it,” I replied, barely breathing.

“It went to the exam slot. If I didn’t take it, I lose the chance.”

“You selfish brat!” she screamed. “You’d rather buy a damn dream than help pay for your place in this house?”

When I didn’t speak, she shoved me hard.

“Get out,” she said, voice low and venomous. “If you think you’re so grown, go live your little fantasy. But don’t come back anymore!.”

She slammed her bedroom door.

Silence returned, but it wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating.

I stood in the middle of the kitchen, shaking. My chest burned. My throat clenched.

I bent down slowly, picked up my bag, and checked for the envelope. Still there.

Still intact just like me. I didn’t have much. Just a few clothes, a notebook, and that slip of paper.

But I had the one thing she couldn’t beat out of me. Hope.

I stepped outside into the cold night, the wind sharp against my cheeks.

I had no home. No money. No family. But I had a dream and I wasn’t letting go.

I didn’t remember how many blocks I walked. Just the sound of my sneakers scraping against concrete, my arms tightening around my bag like it held my whole life because it did.

At some point, my trembling fingers dialed the only person I had left.

“Melanie,” I whispered when she picked up. My voice cracked, almost lost beneath the wind.

“Can I stay with you tonight? Please.” She didn’t hesitate.

“Where are you?” she said, instantly alert. “Are you okay? Vida, talk to me.”

“I… I just need a place. Just for a while. Can I stay in your apartment? “I asked her softly.

“Sure. No problem. I will text you the complete address and I’ll wait for you here, “she replied.

“Thank you so much, Mel. Thank you! “I thanked her out of joy.

Fifteen minutes later, I was climbing the stairs to her small apartment on the third floor, breathing hard from exhaustion and the climb. The door swung open before I even knocked.

She pulled me into a hug that made my knees buckle.

“Oh my god,” she whispered into my hair. “What happened to your face?”

I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t want to cry. But I did.

Melanie didn’t let go. She wrapped her arms around me and let me break down quietly. She smelled like mint and laundry soap, clean and safe and everything I didn’t have.

She sat me on the couch, fetched a cold pack for my cheek, then heated leftovers and pushed a plate into my hands. I tried to eat but couldn’t swallow past the lump in my throat.

When I finally told her everything, from the exam to Aunt Liza’s slap, Melanie’s eyes darkened with fury.

“She’s a monster,” she said sharply.

“Your mother didn’t leave you to her so you could be her punching bag. And what the hell kind of aunt throws out a girl for chasing a future?”

I shook my head, trying to defend someone who never defended me. “She’s just… angry. Tired. Life didn’t treat her kindly either.”

“That’s not an excuse,” Melanie snapped.

“You’ve done everything for that woman. Worked yourself to death, skipped meals, lived like a shadow. She had no right to say those things about your mom. No one does.”

That night, I curled up in Melanie’s spare blanket on her small couch, her cat purring at my feet. For the first time in months, I slept without fear of waking up to screaming.

The next morning, I woke up to light seeping through the window and the low hum of a kettle in the kitchen. Melanie was still in her pajamas, typing something on her laptop. She looked up and smiled.

“Morning. You should eat.”

But before I could answer, my phone buzzed on the coffee table. I picked it up, expecting spam or maybe another cruel message from Aunt Liza but it wasn’t.

“Congratulations, Ms. Moretti. You have been accepted into the Full Academic Scholarship Program of Dravik University. We look forward to seeing you on campus."