CHAPTER 4: Hockey or Legacy

Jace’s POV

I hated it when people interrupted my sleep. It was just 7 a.m. Who the hell bangs on someone’s door that early?

“Go away! Come back never!” I grumbled, eyes barely open.

But it was Stephen, my father’s loyal servant.

“Sir, Mr Harrington landed in New York this morning. He’s 30 minutes away from the house and has ordered breakfast with you. He’ll be at the dining table in 40 minutes.”

I groaned and buried my face deeper into the pillow. “I have a team meeting. I’ll skip breakfast. Now go away so I can catch a little more sleep before then.”

“Mr Harrington said it was an order, sir,” Stephen replied, his voice echoing down the hallway.

Of course it was.

I cracked open one eye and instantly regretted it. My head was pounding. A nasty hangover from last night’s party after our test. Whisky. Weed. Women. Why the hell was my father back in New York? He wasn’t supposed to return until the end of the month. His sudden arrival meant only one thing: chaos. Dragging myself out of bed, I stumbled to the bathroom and scrubbed the taste of whisky and weed off my tongue. When I finally turned off Do Not Disturb on my phone, it blew up with I*******m notifications, team alerts, and over twenty missed calls from Scott.

Shit.

I took a quick shower and threw on something decent, then headed downstairs. My father was already seated at the far end of the dining table, he was holding my school file. The table was set extravagantly with fresh fruit, croissants, bacon, waffles, parfait, and even dessert. A full spread fit for royalty.

“Morning, Dad,” I muttered and sat far from him. He didn’t look up. “Not the kind of

greeting I expected. I spent two months in Helsinki, and this is the welcome I get?”

“I have a team meeting soon. As you know, the championship is coming up, and I’m the star of my team. So let’s spend the little time we have in peace before you go off to only God knows where.” He pushed my school file across the table. 

“You’re failing Business Law, scraping through Econ with a C, and practically getting an F on  Advanced Strategy. What the hell are you doing with your time? Aren’t you studying?”

“I am training, playing and studying at the same time, Dad. It has not been easy on me.” I picked up an apple and bit into it. His hand slammed the table.

“Don’t you dare!” His voice cut through the air like a blade. “Don’t test me, Jace. I only allowed this hockey nonsense so you could study in peace. I sent you to business school so you

could succeed me. And this…” he waved my file in the air, “this is what I get?

Cs, Ds and Fs? Are you trying to disgrace me?!”

I clenched my jaw. Here we go again.

“Succeed you?  I’m nothing like you, Dad! And I never will be.” I stood up, voice shaking but firm. “You hide your wickedness behind philanthropy while you’re out there illegally

mining oil in restricted zones. You bribe governments, fund pipeline deals and steal resources for major community projects. That’s your legacy?”

He froze, and I scoffed. “You call it business, but you launder money and cover it all with charity headlines.” I took a breath. My chest was tight. “I won’t be part of that. My legacy will be Hockey.”

He chuckled darkly. “You think hockey is a legacy? You think the world respects games? The world respects power, Jace. And whether you like it or not, my blood runs through your veins. One way or another, you’ll take over this empire. You have no choice.”

I stared at him. My voice was barely a whisper. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

I turned to leave, with my chest heaving. But then he said it…..

“I’ll crumble your career before your eyes.”

I paused.

“You’re only playing hockey because I allowed it. You're under contract with the Timberwolves for five years, $2 million. Pocket change. I’ll buy the entire club, terminate your deal, and blacklist you from every major league in the country.”

I spun around. “Jesus Christ. Who are you? You’re so full of bitterness and hate. I curse the day I ever called you father.”

His face twisted with disgust. “You’re weak. Nothing like me. I wish Scott were my son instead. At least he understands how business works. Not you, who is chasing fame and women. I came

back to bond with you, Jace. But apparently, I wasted my time. I’m leaving for Katowice for a business meeting.” He tossed his napkin on the table.

“Enjoy your little fantasies while they last.” And just like that, he walked out.

I didn’t realise I was holding my breath until he was gone. I headed back to my room in silence. Scott was still calling, probably wondering why I was late for the meeting. But my mind was wrecked. My mood, annihilated. I poured a glass of whisky, downed it in one gulp. Then my phone beeped. It was a message from my club manager, Mr Ruben.

“Hey Jace, I left a voicemail. Just got off the phone with your father. He’s offering to buy the Timberwolves for $5 billion. Huge move. Management is hyped. Be on time for the meeting; let’s pop a bottle for this win.”

I almost lost grip of my phone. This was real. He was doing it. He was buying my life out from under me. With a roar, I grabbed the nearest glass and smashed it against the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces.