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Chapter 30
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My Ice Hockey Husband Faked Our Marriage so I Joined His Rival Chapter 30
Elena's POVOne Year Later.The sun was setting over the cliffs of Noah's estate, painting the Atlantic Ocean in shades of gold and violet.A white silk aisle stretched across the emerald lawn, leading to an altar made of driftwood and white roses. It was the wedding the world had been waiting for, the "Wedding of the Century" according to the tabloids. But to me, it was just a promise made in front of the people who mattered.I stood in the foyer of the mansion, looking at myself in the full-length mirror.My dress was a masterpiece of French lace and silk, designed to catch the light with every movement. It was regal, elegant, and unapologetically beautiful. Around my neck was a simple sapphire pendant, Noah's wedding gift.A soft gurgle came from the bassinet near the window. Leo, now a sturdy one-year-old in a tiny tuxedo, was busy trying to eat his own bowtie."You look breathtaking, Dr. Vance."I turned. Noah stood in the doorway, looking devastating in a midnight blue tuxedo. He
My Ice Hockey Husband Faked Our Marriage so I Joined His Rival Chapter 29
Elena's POV"The debt is paid," I said, my voice steady. "The savior and the star... we're done."I turned my back on the grave and walked down the hill. With every step, I felt the phantom weight of the last ten years falling away. I wasn't the "Ice Prince's" doctor anymore. I wasn't the secret wife. I was just Elena.Noah was waiting by the door of the car. When he saw me, he didn't ask how I felt. He simply opened the door, tucked me into the warmth of the leather seat, and kissed my forehead."Ready?" he asked."Ready," I replied.We drove away, and for the first time in my life, I didn't look back in the rearview mirror.Three months later, the Boston Titans were heading into the playoffs. I was back at work, my Chief Medical Officer title now a symbol of the most successful medical department in the league. My "Sterling Protocol" had been rebranded as the "Vance Method," and it was being licensed by teams across the country. I was no longer a shadow; I was the gold standard.Bu
My Ice Hockey Husband Faked Our Marriage so I Joined His Rival Chapter 28
Elena's POVAs we walked out of the warehouse, the first rays of the morning sun were breaking over the Boston Harbor. The air was cold, but the weight that had been crushing my chest for months was gone.Suddenly, I felt a tiny, defiant flutter in my lower abdomen.A kick. The baby's first kick.I stopped and looked down, then up at Noah. He saw the look on my face and placed his hand over mine, his eyes searching mine."He's okay," I whispered. "We're going to be okay.""We're going home, Elena," Noah said, pulling me into the warmth of his car. "The past is over. Today is the first day of the rest of our lives."The dust from the warehouse explosion had settled, but the legal and emotional shockwaves were just beginning to reshape the city.Two weeks had passed since the night Liam Sterling traded his life for mine. The media, which had once feasted on my supposed "disappearance" and the "Golden Couple's" scandals, was now obsessed with the dramatic fall of the Glaciers' empire. M
My Ice Hockey Husband Faked Our Marriage so I Joined His Rival Chapter 27
Elena's POVThe warehouse was a swarm of tactical gear and emergency lights, but for the three of us, the world had shrunk to a small circle of blood-stained concrete. The EMTs were rushing toward us with a gurney, their footsteps thundering on the wood, but I knew they were too late. I could feel the life draining out of Liam beneath my fingertips, the heat of his body fading into the damp chill of the morning.Noah knelt beside me, his hand resting firmly on my shoulder. Usually, Noah's touch was a claim, a possessive reminder that I was his. But now, his grip was a support. There was no jealousy left in him, only a heavy, somber respect for the man who had just taken a blade for his family.Liam's hand, trembling and heavy with the weight of his final moments, reached up toward me. He wanted to touch my cheek he had ignored during our 'marriage,' he had mocked in front of his mistress, he had betrayed for a lie. But as his fingers came close, he paused. He saw the dark, wet red
My Ice Hockey Husband Faked Our Marriage so I Joined His Rival Chapter 26
Elena's POVIn the fraction of a second that Sophia lunged, my brain processed everything with agonizing clarity. I saw the glint of the stainless steel blade, the madness in her wide, unblinking eyes, and the desperate, frantic movement of Noah as he breached the inner perimeter, his hand outstretched, still ten feet too far away to stop the trajectory.I squeezed my eyes shut, a primal instinct taking over. I curled my torso forward as much as the zip ties would allow, a desperate, final attempt to shield the tiny life inside me with my own ribcage. I waited for the cold, sharp bite of the steel. I waited for the end of the dream I had only just started to believe in.But the impact wasn't sharp. It was heavy.I heard a guttural grunt of effort, followed by a wet, sickening thud, the sound of a body colliding with a body. There was a gasp, a rattle of breath, and then the sound of a wooden chair splintering against the concrete floor.I opened my eyes, gasping for air that felt li
My Ice Hockey Husband Faked Our Marriage so I Joined His Rival Chapter 25
Elena's POVThe warehouse was a cathedral of rot and forgotten industry, perched precariously on the edge of the Boston Harbor. The air was thick with the scent of stagnant seawater, rusted iron, and the sharp, copper tang of Marcus Kane's desperation.I sat bolted to a heavy wooden chair, my wrists raw where the industrial zip ties bit into my skin. Every time I moved, the plastic dug deeper, but I kept my hands positioned as best I could over my abdomen. My pregnancy wasn't just a secret anymore; it was the only thing keeping me anchored to sanity in this nightmare. I was a doctor; I knew the statistics of trauma during the second trimester, and those numbers were screaming in my head.To my left, Liam was a broken shadow of the man I had once worshipped. He was tied to a similar chair, his tuxedo, once the armor of the ‘Ice Prince', now a tattered, blood-stained rag. His face was a map of bruises, his arrogance replaced by a hollow, haunting realization. He looked at me, his e
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