The Hockey billionaire's secret son

POV: Daisy

The heavy oak door groaned on its hinges, clicking shut behind Jace like a period at the end of a sentence I never got to finish.

The silence in the room stretched, thick and suffocating.

"Well," Victoria Kingston said, her smooth voice cutting through the stillness. She adjusted her diamond bracelet, the stones catching the harsh fluorescent lights of the administrative office. "That settles that. Dean Whitcombe, we should notify the board immediately."

"Mrs. Kingston, please," I whispered. My throat felt like sandpaper. I looked at the desk, where the forged high school transcript lay open. "Look at the dates. Look at the font on the school seal. It isn't right."

"The font, Ms. Bennett?" The Dean let out a dry, humorless chuckle. He picked up his heavy fountain pen and signed the bottom of the expulsion order with a sharp flourish. "We are well past the point of amateur typography analysis. The school district verified the records. Your high school principal verified the lack of a recommendation."

"Because someone lied to him!" I slammed my hands onto the desk, leaning forward. "Someone called him pretending to be from the university verification office, didn't they? Or they paid someone. Madison was in my room last week. She knew where I kept my old high school files."

Madison leaned back in her chair, crossing one elegant leg over the other. The fabric of her designer skirt rustled softly. She buffed her manicured nails against her palm, looking thoroughly bored. "Are you still on that, Daisy? I told you, I have no reason to touch your things."

"You hate me," I said, turning on her. "You've hated me since the day Jace brought me to the campus diner instead of sitting at your table."

"Hate is a very strong word for someone I barely think about," Madison replied, her lips curving into a small, venomous smile. "I don't need to ruin your life. You did a perfectly fine job of that all by yourself. Who even uses a manila folder to store important documents anyway? It's so... public school."

"Enough," Victoria interrupted, standing up. She pulled a pair of leather gloves over her fingers, smoothing the material down each digit with meticulous care. "Madison, leave us. The committee needs to finalize the paperwork."

Madison stood, picking up her leather handbag. She gave me one last, lingering look of absolute triumph before walking out, her heels clicking a rhythmic, mocking beat against the hardwood.

I turned back to Victoria, desperation clawing at my chest. "You know Jace loves me. You know how happy we were. Why are you doing this?"

Victoria didn't blink. Her ice-blue eyes, so terribly similar to her son's, fixed onto mine. "My son is the heir to a billionaire hockey empire, Daisy. He is destined for the NHL, for greatness, and for a woman who brings something to our family name. You are the daughter of a campus maintenance worker."

"That has nothing to do with my grades!"

"It has everything to do with your character," Victoria said softly, leaning down so only I could hear. "People from your background always try to take a shortcut. You think you deserve a free ride just because you can paint a few pretty pictures and catch the eye of a boy who was lonely during pre-season training. The Kingston Global Foundation does not fund charity cases disguised as scholars."

"I earned my place here," I sobbed, the tears finally spilling over my eyelashes. "I studied until three in the morning every single night. My dad worked double shifts just so I could afford the textbooks."

"Then he wasted his money," the Dean said, sliding the signed expulsion papers into a folder. "Ms. Bennett, you have until midnight to vacate your campus housing. If your belongings are still in the dormitory by twelve-o-one, campus security will remove them and place them in the campus dumpsters."

"Midnight?" My voice cracked. "It's raining outside. I don't have a car. My dad is working the evening shift in the athletic department."

"Then I suggest you start packing quickly," the Dean said, not looking up from his desk. "Good day, Ms. Bennett."

I stood frozen for a few seconds, looking between the two of them. Victoria was already looking at her phone, typing a message with her thumb, completely dismissing my existence. The Dean was sorting through a new stack of papers.

The room felt entirely devoid of air. I grabbed my canvas backpack from the floor, threw it over my shoulder, and walked out into the corridor.

The hallway was empty, the long linoleum floor stretching out under dim yellow lights. I ran toward the heavy double doors of the administration building, pushing them open.

The autumn air hit me like a physical blow, cold and heavy with rain. I ran down the stone steps, my sneakers slipping slightly on the wet leaves. I didn't care about the water soaking through my thin jacket. I only cared about the athletic complex down the road.

Jace would be there. He had to be there. He had to listen to me.

I ran past the library, past the quad where students were rushing under umbrellas, completely unaware that my entire world had just ended. When I reached the Kingston Fieldhouse, the heavy glass doors were locked to the public, but I knew the side entrance near the equipment loading dock.

I slipped inside, the familiar smell of ice, rubber, and stale sweat filling my lungs. The distant sound of skates scraping against ice echoed down the concrete tunnel.

I walked toward the home locker room, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. The door was cracked open.

"Jace, you need to clear your head," a voice said from inside. It was Ethan, Jace's defenseman and closest friend on the team. "You can't go onto the ice looking like you want to murder someone."

"I'm fine," Jace's voice snapped back. It was rough, deeper than usual, laced with a raw anger that made me flinch.

"You're not fine. You just watched your girlfriend get kicked out of school," Ethan said. "Are you sure about those papers? Daisy doesn't seem like the type to fake a transcript. She literally helped me pass macroeconomics last month. She knows her stuff."

"The signature was hers, Ethan," Jace said, the sound of a hockey stick slamming against a metal locker echoing through the room. "The financial aid waiver had her exact handwriting. She lied to me. She told me her dad couldn't afford their rent, and then she forged the papers to keep the scholarship money."

"Did you ask her about the rent part?" Ethan asked.

"I didn't need to. She admitted it in the room," Jace said, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with a bitter finality. "She wanted to stay near me. She built our whole relationship on a lie. The future we talked about, the house, the summer trips... none of it was real. She's just a fraud who wanted a piece of my family's money."

I pushed the door open completely, stepping into the locker room.

Both boys froze. Ethan looked shocked, his eyes widening as he looked at my soaked hair and pale face. Jace sat on the wooden bench, his team jersey half-zipped, his skates already tied. His expression hardened into a mask of pure betrayal the moment he saw me.

"Daisy," Ethan said quietly. "You shouldn't be in here."

"Jace, please," I said, ignoring Ethan entirely. I stepped closer, the water from my jacket dripping onto the rubber floor mats. "Ethan is right. You didn't look at the evidence properly. The signature on that waiver was from my sophomore year enrollment form. Someone copied it. Madison had access to my desk last week."

Jace stood up, his massive six-foot-three frame towering over me. The ice-blue eyes that used to look at me with so much warmth were completely dead. "Madison was never in your room, Daisy. Stop trying to blame everyone else for your choices."

"She's lying to you!" I shouted, the panic turning into absolute despair. "Why won't you just listen to me for one minute? Look at me! You know me. You stayed up with me while I wrote my essays. You know how much I love this school."

"I thought I knew you," Jace said, stepping closer until he was only inches away. The smell of his cologne mixed with the cold air of the arena. "But it turns out I was just convenient. You needed a Kingston to guarantee your future, didn't you? If you lose the scholarship, you go back to Willow Creek. You told me that yourself."

"I said that because I was scared, Jace! Not because I wanted your money!" I reached out, my trembling fingers catching the sleeve of his jersey. "I love you. Not your family's foundation. You."

Jace looked down at my hand on his sleeve. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled his arm away from my grip. The motion was sharp, cutting through the very last piece of hope I had left.

"Don't touch me," he whispered. "We're done, Daisy. Go back to Willow Creek."

"Jace..."

"Get out," he said, turning his back to me and picking up his helmet from the bench. "Before I call security myself."

Ethan stepped between us, his face full of pity. "Daisy, come on. Let's go before it gets worse."

I looked at Jace's broad back, at the number on his jersey, waiting for him to turn around. Waiting for him to tell me it was a horrific joke. He didn't move. He didn't look back at me as he walked toward the ice tunnel, the heavy metal door clicking shut behind him like a final judgment.

The room felt completely empty. I let Ethan guide me out of the building and into the pouring rain.