All Chapters of The Hockey billionaire's secret son : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

POV: DaisyI opened the supply closet door and hurried out of the classroom. The room was empty; the Kingston group had already moved on. My phone shook in my hand, and Dad's panicked warning echoed in my ears—Oliver was heading straight toward the Kingston team. I shoved the phone into my cardigan pocket and ran, my shoes squeaking loudly against the hallway floor as I rushed toward the stairwell.I didn't care about the teachers staring at me, and I didn't care about school rules. My heart beat fast in my chest. Oliver was wandering alone somewhere in the school. If Jace saw him—if he looked at his face, his eyes, or his hair—everything I had built and protected would shatter.I ran down the stairs, breathing hard until my throat hurt. When I reached the ground floor, I pushed through the double doors and went straight into the school gymnasium.The gym was loud and chaotic, with plastic toys dropped everywhere. Dozens of students sat on the polished floor, shouting and laughing whi

POV: JaceI told the boy I was fine. It was a lie, and he accepted it the way children accept most things, with a shrug and a new question. I do not remember how we ended up in the quiet behind the folded bleachers, only that it was the first place I could breathe. At some point I had sat down on the floor, because my legs would no longer hold me, and the boy had climbed onto my knee as if he had every right to be there. He had heard everyone call me Jace and captain, and he had put the two together. He chattered about his stick, about his grandfather, about foam pucks and his mother's kitchen plates, and I let him talk. I showed him how to wrap his small hands around the shaft, because it was the only thing I could think to do. I touched the little carved star and told him it looked like a pro stick. And I could not stop looking at his face, because every time I did, my own face looked back at me.Then a woman's voice cut through the quiet, bright and a little too high, careful in a

POV: DaisyI read the message, and then I read it again, slower, as if the words might change into something harmless. They didn't. A Kingston Titans representative. A senior Kingston Global Foundation director. Key school staff. I did not know if "a representative" meant Jace himself or someone sent to speak for him. I only knew that "key school staff" meant the art teacher whose room he had asked to see first.I did not reply. I could not think of any words to write that would not show how scared I was.The paint jars sat half-rinsed in the sink, and I had promised Dad I would finish cleaning them, but the thought of staying in that room another moment made my skin crawl.I stared at the lit-up screen on my desk, the words repeating over and over in my mind. My thumb shook so badly it missed the screen before I finally tapped it off and shoved the phone deep into my bag.I hurried down the dim school hallway and stepped out into the cool evening air. The parking lot was mostly empty

POV: DaisyEmma was quiet for a long moment after I said it. Then she told me, very gently, that she would answer if I called, no matter the hour, and I promised I would. I ended the call and stood on the walkway until my hands stopped shaking enough to hold the phone steady. Through the lit window I could see Oliver's shadow still bouncing back and forth, swinging his stick, and I pressed the heel of my hand against my mouth until I trusted my face.Then I climbed the front steps and opened the door. Dad was waiting just past the entryway, and the tight crease around his mouth showed he was still thinking about our worried phone call from earlier that afternoon. When our eyes met, I gave him the smallest shake of my head and glanced toward the living room, where Oliver was already hunting for his picture books.Not in front of him."After he's asleep," I whispered.Dad nodded once and stepped aside to let me pass.I walked straight down the hall into my bedroom, peeling off my stiff

POV: DaisyI did not answer him. I stood in the doorway of his room until his breathing deepened again, then went back to my own bed and managed to sleep a little, listening to the refrigerator hum and hearing his small voice ask the question over and over. Does the hockey man have a little boy? I had no answer I could say aloud, even to the quiet night.Morning came anyway. I woke Oliver up from sleep, carried him into the bathroom to brush his teeth and give him a warm bath, and helped him get dressed. After that, I went into the bathroom to take my own quick bath, brush my teeth, and dress in my professional clothes for school. I joined him and my father at the kitchen table for breakfast, eating a quiet meal together before we stepped out for the morning. I walked Oliver to his preschool down the street, kissed the top of his messy dark-blond head, and stood on the sidewalk longer than I needed to, as if I could hold the whole building steady around him. Then I walked on to Maple