All Chapters of Playing Pretend With The Mafia Hockey Star : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

85 Chapters

071: WHAT GIFT?

KIERAN POV "Uncle Sergei," I said into the speaker, my hand tightening on Yara’s wrist, keeping her close to my side as the truck cut through the icy fog ahead. "I need Team Four at the state records office and the safehouses in upstate New York right now." "Okay," Sergei's voice came through the car. "I'll send six men to check those properties. The feds tried to seize your accounts, but my lawyers stopped them with a court order. Your assets are safe, and they haven't done anything." Beside me, I felt the release of tension in Yara’s body. She let out a trembling breath, her forehead resting briefly against my chest. "Don't get comfortable yet, Kieran," Sergei added grimly. "Your father is calling an emergency meeting at the at midnight. He’s officially signing the papers to merge Volkov Sports with the Orlov family assets. If those documents are stamped, you lose all control forever." "He won't sign them," I muttered into the phone, my eyes fixed on the highway stretch

072: BLOODY BASTARD

KIERAN POV My grip tightened on my gun as my father looked up at me from the warehouse floor. His expression was calm, condescending, and entirely convinced that he held every card in his hand. "What gift do you actually have to give at this point?" he asked, his voice echoing off the walls. "This one," I rasped. I raised my arm and pulled the trigger. BANG! The bullet tore straight through his right forearm. He let out a sharp gasp, dropping the leather folder as blood sprayed across the white documents on the table. The Orlov representatives scrambled backward in terror, crashing into chairs as my father stumbled against the oak desk, clutching his shattered arm. "Kieran, you bloody bastard!" he snarled, his face twisting in sudden rage. I didn't shoot to kill him. A bullet through his heart would have been too merciful, and dead men couldn't stand trial when the federal storm hit this floor. I needed distraction and time. Right on cue, the heavy skylights above

073: FREE...NOW ONTO THE NEXT

YARA POV Five hours later, I was sitting at a cold steel table inside the FBI field. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Heavy brass handcuffs held my wrists together, metal biting into my skin every time I shifted. Across the observation glass, I knew Kieran was sitting in an identical interrogation room. They had taken him in thirty minutes after arresting me at Talia’s penthouse. The door opened, and Agent Cillian walked inside. He tossed a thick stack of printed documents onto the metal table, pulling out a metal chair across from me. "You're in deep, Miss Quinn," Cillian said, leaning his hands flat on the steel. "An international red notice. Conspiracy to harbor a fugitive. Accomplice to the murder of Mr Romano." I didn't blink. I sat up straight, holding his gaze. "You have the wrong story, Agent Cillian," I said, my voice completely calm. "And if you check right now, you'll see why this entire arrest is a federal mistake." Cillian’s brow furrowed. Before he c

074:YARA'S FATHER?!

YARA POV. SIX MONTHS LATER The bright lights of the rinks flooded the ice at the New York Grand Center The roar of twenty thousand fans echoed through the arena, a deafening wave of noise that made the glass panels vibrate. The scoreboard hung high above the ice, flashing in bright red numbers: NEW YORK VOLKOVS: 4 | BOSTON: 2. I sat in the front row wearing a black and gold hockey jersey with the number 88 stitched across the back. Beside me, Alaric was cheering loudly, while Dominic sat with his arms crossed, a rare smile on his face. On the ice, the horn blared, signaling the end of the third period. The entire arena erupted as the team rushed onto the ice, crowding around Kieran. He looked magnificent..powerful He had played the best season of his career, leading his team straight into the playoffs without a single mention of his father or the past in the news. The media called it the greatest comeback story in sports history. Kieran skated toward the glass wall right

075: SIENNA

YARA POV The black ink of the letter seemed to burn through the thin paper in my hands. Dominic had driven straight from the arena to my office, setting the thick Manila envelope on my desk without saying a word. The official seal from the upstate correctional facility was stamped in red across the corner. Beside it lay a key tagged with a Zurich vault number, and the handwritten letter from Victor. Dear Yara... I am your biological father. I stared out the window at the Brooklyn skyline… the quiet, peaceful world Kieran and I had built over the last six months felt like it was shifting on it's own again. All my life, I believed I was the daughter of two average people who died in a tragic car accident when I was a baby.. I thought I was alone. I fought my way through foster homes, law school, believing I had no legacy except my own grit. Instead, my blood belonged to Victor Donovan a man who ran a syndicate empire, a man whose daughter had tried to destroy my life and

076: I TRUST YOU

YARA POV I stood frozen beside the couch.. watching this stunning stranger wrap her arms around my boyfriend’s neck like she had done it a thousand times before. Kieran didn't hug her back. His arms remained planted firmly at his sides, his posture straight. He took a smooth step backward, placing a deliberate two feet of space between them. "Sienna," Kieran said, his low voice carrying a heavy, guarded tone. "What are you doing here?" Sienna didn't look bothered by his cold response at all. She simply let her hands fall, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder with an easy, practiced grace. Her striking eyes swept over Kieran’s face before settling on his shoulders. "Is that how you greet a friend who just flew several hours from Milan?" she asked softly, her lips curving into a confident, dimpled smile. "I heard about what happened with your father. I heard the syndicate is gone, the charges were dropped, and you signed your team extension. I couldn't just stay in I

077: ITS ALL A LIE?!

YARA POV Two days later. The afternoon sun was pouring through the large windows of the New York Ice Center. I stood in the VIP observation lounge overlooking the main rink, holding two hot coffees in my hands. Kieran’s team was having a light morning skate before their flight to Boston for the playoff series, and I had stopped by after my morning court appearance to drop off his favorite travel mug. Down on the ice, Kieran was effortless. He moved with a broad, lethal power that made the other skaters look slow by comparison, blasting pucks into the top corner of the net with terrifying precision. My heart swelled with pride watching him. He belonged on the ice. He was born for this. "He really hasn't lost his touch, has he?" A smooth, familiar voice spoke from right behind me. I turned around slowly. Sienna was standing near the glass railing. She was dressed in a black coaching track jacket, her dark hair pulled back into a neat, high ponytail, holding a clipboar

078: WE HANDLE IT TOGETHER

YARA POV I stood pressed flat against the wall of the corridor, my fingers digging into my coat. The air in the hallway felt icy cold, but my blood was running hot and wild in my veins. A federal lie. Sienna’s quiet words echoed inside my mind, repeating over and over. My breath caught in my chest... hours ago, I sat in my new Brooklyn office, looking at my framed law license and my fine business cards. I believed Marcus had won our freedom using legitimate legal motions. Instead, Sienna was standing two feet away from Kieran, holding a silver European syndicate coin, claiming her father paid off the FBI director to bury secondary evidence. Down the corridor…Kieran didn't raise his voice. He simply reached out, grabbed Sienna’s wrist with a grip so hard her silver coin dropped from her hand, clattering noisily onto the floor. "Keep your father's money out of my life, Sienna," Kieran growled, his voice dropping into that dark, lethal tone he used whenever he was ready to

079: OH NO!

YARA POV Four hours later, we were on the team's private flight to Boston. The inside of the plane was quiet and luxurious. Most of the players were asleep and listening to music with headphones on, preparing for the opening game of the playoff series the following evening. I sat in the window seat of the private front section, my laptop open on the fold down table. Spread across my screen were public corporate registry files from Zurich and Milan. I was an attorney now. If Sienna thought she could walk into my city and use legal loopholes or extortion to blackmail the man I loved, she was going to learn very quickly that I wasn't just a quiet girl from foster care anymore. Dominic sat across the aisle from us, reading a tablet, while Kieran sat right beside me, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, his thumb slowly stroking my arm while I typed. "Find anything?" Dominic asked low, looking over the top of his screen. "Sienna’s father, Frederick, registered a private equi

080: SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!

KIERAN POV The noise inside the away locker room was deafening. Ice buckets were clattering, equipment bags were being thrown around, and Alaric was blasting music from the speakers near the showers. The team had just destroyed Boston on their home ice in game one of the Finals, but I couldn't care less about the win. I unstrapped my chest pads, pulled my damp sweat shirt over my head, and tossed it into the laundry bin. My shoulder was aching, but my mind was completely focused on the corridor outside. I grabbed my phone from my locker shelf. Zero missed calls. Zero text messages from Yara. My brow furrowed. She had promised to wait by the private family reception room near the press tunnel while I finished my post game media obligations. That was twenty minutes ago. "Kieran, great power play in the second period," Sergei said, walking past my stall with a stack of stat sheets. "The sports networks are already running the highlights." "Yeah. Thanks uncle," I muttered, p

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