The Hockey billionaire's secret son のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 7

POV: DaisyThe 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

POV: DaisyI didn't fully remember the walk back from the arena — just the rain, and Ethan's hand steady at my elbow guiding me through it, and then somehow I was standing in my own doorway, staring at a crisp white envelope taped to the door: Immediate Move-Out Notice.I packed my entire life into two duffel bags in under an hour. The whole time, a campus security guard stood in my open doorway, his boots squeaking against the linoleum every time he shifted his weight. He was pretending to look down the hall, but I could see his reflection in the cheap vanity mirror.I didn't blame him. He was just doing his job. Everyone in this building was just doing their job.The housing coordinator had knocked at some point that evening, rain still hammering the window behind me, and handed me that envelope. I don't remember what she said. The guard watched out of the corner of his eye as I folded years of secondhand sweaters into a faded canvas bag that used to belong to my dad.My hands did t

POV: DaisyThe cab pulled up outside a house I'd known my whole life, porch light already on, my father silhouetted in the doorway before I'd even paid the driver. He didn't say anything when I got out — just crossed the yard in a few long strides and pulled me into a hug that smelled like dish soap and the same aftershave he'd worn since I was a kid. Neither of us spoke until we were inside.My childhood bedroom still had the same paint color, a soft yellow I'd picked out when I was twelve because I thought it looked like sunshine. It didn't look like sunshine anymore. It looked like a room someone had left in a hurry and never quite come back to, even though I was standing right in the middle of it.Willow Creek didn't forget things. That was the trouble with a town this small — everybody's business became everybody's business within about a day and a half, and by the time I'd been home a week, I could feel the shape of my scandal following me down every street like a second shadow.

POV: DaisyMy hands started shaking before my brain caught up to what I was looking at. I sank down onto the closed toilet lid because my legs simply stopped working.A baby.Jace's baby. It was growing inside me while he was off somewhere far from Willow Creek, pretending I'd never existed. While his mother sat in her marble office, completely insulated by her billionaire empire, congratulating herself on a job well done.Breathe, Daisy. Just breathe.I don't know how long I sat there before the paralyzing fear started to shift. It turned into something else—something sharper, steadier, settling low in my chest like a stone dropping to the bottom of a deep well. This baby hadn't done anything wrong. This baby didn't know about forged transcripts, ruthless locker room accusations, or a billionaire family with more money than God and less mercy than the devil.I pressed my hand flat against my stomach. It was still completely flat, giving nothing away."It's just you and me," I whisper