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Chapter 7 — Not Mine to Keep
publish date:
2026-07-24 14:04:09
Latest chapter
The Hockey billionaire's secret son Chapter 85 — False Alarm
POV: JaceRichard didn't press me for a better answer. He only watched me walk out, as if he already knew what I refused to say out loud. His question followed me out of the Kingston Global Foundation office and stayed with me through a sleepless night and the long day that followed: You found something there, didn't you? It tangled up with the boy's wide, curious eyes and the old cardboard box sitting on my bed.By the next dawn, I stopped pretending this was about equipment and flyers. I left my truck parked in the garage and took one of the black Kingston Global Foundation SUVs instead, tossing my duffel bag into the back seat. I pulled out of Silver Heights before the morning traffic started, making the quiet drive across town toward Willow Creek. If I was going to see Daisy, I would do it alone.The school hallway was dead quiet when I walked through the front doors. I kept my duffel bag slung over one shoulder, my boots clicking softly against the polished linoleum floor. Outsid
The Hockey billionaire's secret son Chapter 84 — Good Morning, Mr. Kingston
POV: DaisyThe rest of the school day crawled by in a blur of noisy students, scattered paintbrushes, and ticking clock hands. When the afternoon dismissal bell finally rang, the hallways filled with the loud chatter of running children, and the building grew quiet again. I packed my grading folder into my tote bag, locked my classroom door, and walked quickly down the street toward the preschool.Oliver was waiting near the cubbies with his small backpack zipped up, chatting happily with a classmate. When he saw me, his face lit up, and he ran over, grabbing my hand as we waved goodbye to his teacher and stepped back out onto the sidewalk."Mom! Mom, can we get juice? And can we go to the big park with the red slide?" Oliver asked, tugging on my hand and looking up at me with wide, excited eyes as we walked."Not today, buddy," I answered gently, squeezing his small hand. "We need to head straight home to make dinner with Grandpa.""Can we make mac and cheese?" Oliver cheered, skippi
The Hockey billionaire's secret son Chapter 83 — Professional Distance
POV: DaisyDad's words followed me to bed and stayed there. I lay awake listening to the refrigerator hum down the hall, with Oliver's door closed and everything quiet behind it, turning over the question Dad had asked me and the one I couldn't answer: how long could I hide from a man who would be walking through those school doors every month? By morning I had made the only decision I could. I would keep my head down and hope that was enough.When morning finally broke, grey light filtered through the kitchen window. I moved through the apartment on quiet feet, sliding into the kitchen to start the breakfast routine. I scooped plain oats into a saucepan, poured in milk, and watched it bubble on the burner while stirring with a spoon.As the oats simmered, Dad walked into the kitchen leaning slightly on his cane, his grey hair uncombed and his sweater pulled loosely over his shoulders."Morning," Dad murmured, his voice raspy with sleep as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "You look
The Hockey billionaire's secret son Chapter 82 — What Richard Saw
POV: JaceThe promotional spot at Frost Arena was a blur of bright lights, makeup brushes, and rehearsed smiles. I said what the network crew needed me to say, hit every mark, and gave my mother nothing to complain about, but none of it reached me. Ethan's voice kept cutting through the noise: the scholarship revocation pre-loaded before the disciplinary committee ever met, the authorization stamp that matched no terminal in the campus financial aid office, and whatever he had stopped himself from saying out loud. Beneath all of it, steady as a pulse, sat the recurring monthly program at Maple Grove, and the little boy who shared my eyes.By the time the lights went down, I had stopped arguing with myself. I was going back to that school, and I was not going to leave it to the PR team. I did not go home.I drove straight to the Kingston Global Foundation office and pushed open the door to find my father.I paced across the floor in the office, my boots thudding a fast rhythm. My finge
The Hockey billionaire's secret son Chapter 81 — The Question Dad Asked
POV: DaisyI read the notice, slid it into the envelope, and hoped hiding it might make it less true. Emma squeezed my arm without a word, which was the kindest thing she could have done. I got through the rest of the day on the same instinct as the morning, grading color wheels without seeing them and smiling at children whose chatter was still full of the visit.That evening I carried the letter home in my bag, where it sat through dinner, bath time, and Oliver's endless bedtime questions. When he fell asleep, I closed his door, took the notice out, and sat down at the kitchen table. Dad was already sitting there, watching me come in."He's going to be there every month," I said, my voice dropping so low it barely carried across the table.Dad didn't look up from the mug of tea between his hands. The kitchen remained quiet except for the steady hum of the refrigerator in the corner, with Oliver asleep down the hall. "Every month," he repeated, his tone flat."Principal Hayes told me
The Hockey billionaire's secret son Chapter 80 — Interrupted
POV: Jace"Where?" I asked, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.Ethan named a restaurant and told me to ask for the private room at the back. When I said I would be a while, he did not argue. He only said, "Don't make it too long," and ended the call.I stayed where I was, the photograph still in my hand. I told myself I was only deciding what to wear, but the truth was I could not make myself put her face down. When I finally did, I slid it back into the box with the ticket stubs and the pressed flower, set the lid on loosely, and left the box on the edge of the bed where I had been sitting. Then I grabbed my keys and my jacket and walked out into the evening, already knowing I would be late.The door to the private room clicked shut behind me, sealing off the quiet chatter of the main restaurant floor. Ethan was already sitting at the corner booth, a stack of manila folders and printed documents spread across the table between us. I walked straight to the booth, gave him a short
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