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Chapter Twenty-Two: Perimeter
publish date:
2026-08-07 15:48:50
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The Pucking Ice King Chapter sixty four: What They Wanted All Along
The dress Logan had chosen for me was pale gray, high at the neck, cut to say nothing at all. I stood in front of the mirror while Claire fixed a final pin into my hair and thought that even the color had been decided for me. Nothing bright enough to draw a camera’s eye away from Logan. Nothing dark enough to look like mourning. Just soft. Neutral. Forgettable. “You look lovely, Ms. Davies.” “Thank you.” There was nothing else to say to a woman paid to make sure I looked exactly the way someone else wanted me to. Claire stepped back as the door opened behind us. Logan stood in the doorway in a dark suit, his expression already arranged into the particular calm he wore for cameras. His eyes moved over me once before settling on my face. He didn’t comment on the dress. He simply held out his arm. “You look beautiful. When we get there, the photographs will take ten minutes,” he said. “After that, you can stay wherever you’re comfortable, but I won’t leave you alone with
The Pucking Ice King Chapter sixty three :The break
I have been agitated throughout the night about getting caught but seems like I was getting worked up over nothing. The next day, the front door opened as I heard Logan walk in. He was slower than usual. I looked up from the book resting open on my lap as he crossed the entryway. He had come home alone, still wearing the dark clothes from his meeting, his expression unreadable. Usually, Logan carried the energy of whatever room he had just left with him. Meetings left him sharp. Games left him tense. Even bad news seemed to settle somewhere beneath his skin, making every movement deliberate. Today, there was nothing. No visible irritation. No exhaustion. Just stillness. He set his keys on the console. Claire appeared from the kitchen, to give him a daily feedback for babysitting me. Logan nodded once as his eyes moved to me and stopped. Something in my chest tightened. He didn’t ask how I was feeling. He didn’t comment on my ankle or the unfinished tea beside me. He simply
The Pucking Ice King Chapter sixty two: What’s Left of Me
Logan left early for a morning meeting with the foundation board. Claire was occupied with a delivery at the service entrance, and the night nurse had already gone off shift. For a short window, the main floor was still in a way that felt usable. I waited until I heard the service door close. Then I went upstairs. Logan’s office door was unlocked. That was the first surprise. The second was how ordinary the room looked in daylight. Clean desk. Two monitors. Shelves lined with neatly arranged files. A single framed photograph of the ice turned face-down on a shelf. Nothing screamed secret. Nothing looked dangerous. That somehow made it worse. I closed the door behind me and stood still for a moment, listening when I heard nothing I crossed the room. The computer woke with a touch. Password. My pulse picked up. I tried the password Logan used for the household tablet. It worked. I almost laughed—not because it was funny, but because for a man who controlled everything, he ha
The Pucking Ice King Chapter sixty-one: What He Didn’t Say
The house had been quiet all afternoon, but something about it felt different. I couldn’t explain it at first. Claire was going through her usual routine. Nothing had changed that I could see, but I was getting this weird feeling. Then I noticed the tablet on the kitchen counter. Claire had left it there while she took a delivery at the door. The screen was still on, open to a shared household calendar I had never been shown. I almost walked past it. Most of the entries were ordinary—practice times, medical follow-ups, the night nurse’s shifts. Then I saw one near the end of the week. McAllister Foundation — Sponsor Dinner Attendance: Logan McAllister and Lena Daniels Note: Joint arrival. Brief photo line. Approved talking points attached. I read it once. Then again. My fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. Joint arrival. With Lena. Approved talking points. The side door closed behind Claire. Her footsteps moved back toward the kitchen. I locked the tablet
The Pucking Ice King Chapter sixty: The Ultimatum
I knew something was wrong when Claire stopped smiling. She stood in the doorway of the living room, one hand still resting on the handle, her usual professional calm strained around the edges. “Mr. McAllister’s parents are here.” The words settled heavily in the room. Logan was in somewhere in the house. I was currently sitting on the sofa with a book open on my lap and my ankle elevated. He appeared a moment later. His expression changed the instant he saw his parents. “Let them in.” Victor and Elena McAllister entered like people who had never needed permission to cross a threshold. Victor was tall, silver at the temples, his gray eyes carrying the same cold intensity as Logan’s. Elena looked perfectly composed in a cream suit, not a strand of her hair out of place. They both looked at me first. Then at Logan. “You’re looking much better,” Elena said. “I am.” “We were so worried about you.” “I’m fine.” Victor’s gaze moved briefly around the room before
The Pucking Ice King Chapter fifty-nine: After
The suite stayed quiet for the rest of the game. Claire didn’t leave again. The guard remained outside. Below us, Logan played like the ice belonged to him. He denied another breakaway, smothered a scramble against the post, and held the one-goal lead until the final horn sent the arena into a rolling roar. I watched him raise his glove once in acknowledgment before skating off. He never looked toward the suite. By the time they walked me through the private corridors, the main concourse was already filling with people. We left through the same entrance we had used earlier. No cameras reached us. The car was waiting. Logan came home almost two hours later. He walked in wearing a dark team hoodie, his hair still damp from the shower at the arena. The sharpness of the game hadn’t completely left him. His shoulders were tense, his expression focused, his movements slower than usual with exhaustion. He set his keys down. His eyes found me immediately. I was curled into the cor
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