All Chapters of Hate to love you: The star's forbidden obsession: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

RONANMy mouth opened in a silent scream.Before I knew it, I was diving towards him, desperately trying to bridge the distance and catch his inevitable fall.I didn't.He smashed leg-first into a locker before Jace finally managed to catch him.My footsteps froze of their own accord.Cold sweat broke out across my skin.His arm. His arm.Heavens!His arm could have broken again.And if it had, it could have been a permanent goodbye to hockey. By then, even if I had ten mouths, I would never be able to clear my name or make him believe that none of this had anything to do with me.My knees went weak.I grabbed the nearest locker, gripping its edge tightly as I struggled to steady myself.Fear.Indescribable fear flooded my heart, consuming every rational thought in my mind. I couldn't even control the trembling that had taken over my body.My vision blurred at the edges.For one terrifying second, all I could imagine was Zayden lying motionless against that locker, his injured arm tak

ZAYDENThe moment I entered the house, I knew Kael still wasn't home.I could smell cheese from the kitchen.Martha was probably preparing dinner already.I made my way towards the kitchen, my footsteps slowing as I approached.Light beads of sweat covered her forehead, and she quickly wiped them away with her apron when she noticed me.She was making tuna noodle casserole.“Young master...” she greeted softly, glancing briefly at me.I sighed.A strange heaviness settled in my chest.Why was Kael acting so strange? Could something have happened to him?Three days now, he hadn't dropped by even once. Even Martha's cooking, which usually had a way of luring him back home, couldn't tempt him.“Let me guess. Kael hasn't shown up since I called, right?”“Yeah.” Martha's spatula didn't stop moving even as she answered. “But he texted me a while ago, saying he was alright.”A text. Not a call.The familiar ache in my temple seemed to return.“Has anyone strange met up with Kael recently?” I

ZAYDENMy heart was burning as I sat opposite Ronan, staring at his annoyingly smug face.No doubt, he was quite pleased with himself, judging from the giant smile on his face. There was something about the way the bastard's lips curled upward that made my fingers itch.Why's he like this? Always tearing me down and humiliating me in public.Currently, I could see people pretending to eat while secretly taking pictures and videos of my disgrace. A few had their phones angled suspiciously beneath the table, while others were making absolutely no effort to hide their cameras anymore. Every now and then, someone would whisper to the person beside them before glancing in our direction.My nose flared, my heart burned hot. All I could think of was punching the smugness off the bastard's face.My fingers tightened around the fork.‘Stay calm. Zayden, stay calm. Don't lose it here. Don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you crash out.’I inhaled slowly, forcing my shoulders to relax.It

ZAYDENThe manager inhaled deeply and squared her shoulders.“You were the only one with him at this table. How could we be sure you didn't add something else?” She pointed at me, visibly displeased. “Trying to pass the buck to our cafeteria just to escape responsibility ain't gonna work.”I scoffed. Passing the buck?She's going to deny it to the very end, huh?I looked around me again. There was a CCTV camera near the counter. It should have captured our table.My gaze settled on it for a moment before I pointed at the camera.“Let's check the footages since you claim I added something. However, if after checking it's proven that the only thing Ronan tasted was what your cafeteria served, just get ready to hear from my lawyers.”Her nostrils flared. “Lawyers? Over this tiny issue? Who are you trying to scare? Besides…”“Tiny issue?” I scoffed.My eyes drifted briefly toward Ronan's limp figure before returning to her.“I'm sure you know who he is. When his father comes knocking, you

UCLA HOCKEY RINKZAYDENSweat rolled steadily down my forehead, trickling beneath the edge of my helmet as I panted, glancing at the scoreboard.3–3.My heart was hammering against my ribcage, my hand gripping the stick tightly enough that my knuckles ached.Five more minutes to go.Coach was watching and shouting instructions from the sidelines, his voice carrying across the rink.I sucked in a deep breath and wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my glove.I have to win. I couldn't afford another mishap.Unlike other times, the rink was quiet today. No spectators, no media. Only the teammates cheering outside the enclosure, their voices occasionally rising above the scrape of blades against ice and the sharp thud of sticks striking the puck.There was something almost unnerving about playing without the usual crowd.No cameras, reporters, or thousands of eyes waiting for me to screw up.Yet somehow, the pressure felt even heavier.I shook my head, trying to keep my mind clea