All Chapters of The Hockey King I Hated: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ME"You're going to love this," I whispered to myself, shifting the paper bag in my arms as the elevator hummed upward. "Three years, and she still thinks I forget dates."I smiled at my own reflection in the steel doors. The roses were red, not pink, because Mia hated pink roses. The chocolate was dark, not milk, because she thought milk chocolate was too sweet. The necklace sitting in the velvet box in my jacket pocket had her birthstone set in gold, not silver, because silver turned her skin green. Three years of paying attention to every small thing she ever mentioned, and tonight I was going to prove it to her, oh my sweet love I'm coming, I said to myself.The elevator opened on the fourth floor and I stepped out, my sneakers squeaking softly against the hallway tiles. My heart was doing something embarrassing in my chest, beating fast the way it did before a big game. I had even rehearsed what to say. Not a speech, just a few honest words. Something like,

THE ENEMY WHO WOULDN'T LEAVE"You still haven't answered me," I said.Noah shifted his weight but stayed where he was, hands back in his pockets, completely unbothered by the fact that I was standing two feet away from him on a dark bridge in the middle of the night looking like I wanted to put my fist through something."I will," he said. "Just not here.""Then we have nothing to talk about." I turned back to the railing.He did not leave.I could feel him still standing there. I waited for the sound of footsteps walking away, they did not come. A full minute passed, maybe longer, and the only sounds were the river below us and a distant car somewhere on the far end of the city."You came here to enjoy this, didn't you," I said. It was not really a question. "You heard what happened, and you came to see it. One more thing to hold over me. One more way the great Noah Knight gets to watch Liam Cole fall apart.""No.""Then what? Do you feel sorry for me? Is that it?" I laughed, and the

The Secret File Liam's POV The package was already inside my apartment. I knew I hadn't left it there. The moment I locked my front door behind me, something felt wrong. My hockey bag was exactly where I'd dropped it, my keys were still on the kitchen counter and the living room was untouched. But the brown envelope sitting in the middle of my dining table definitely hadn't been there when I left for the charity scrimmage. I stopped breathing, and slowly, I looked around the apartment. The windows were locked, the balcony door was shut and nothing looked disturbed. But whoever had come inside hadn't stolen anything, but they'd only left something behind. A chill crawled up my spine, I crossed the room cautiously, every instinct telling me to turn around and call the police. But instead, I reached for the envelope. It has no return address, and no postage stamp but only my name. LIAM COLE Written in neat black block letters, someone hadn't mailed it and someone had entered my ap

The WatcherNoah's POVLiam looked exactly where I told him not to.The moment his apartment lights silhouetted him against the window, I saw his head turn to the black SUV parked across the street. Damn it. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel."They've made him," I muttered. From my position half a block away, I had a clear view of both Liam's building and the SUV. The tinted windows had been there for nearly twenty minutes before he got home.They hadn't followed him from the charity scrimmage, but they'd arrived first. Waiting and watching. The anonymous file had reached him, and that changed everything.I ended the call before Liam could ask another question. If he kept talking, they'd know we were connected, and that was the last thing I could allow.I started the truck but didn't move, not yet.Because, patience had kept Liam alive this long. And one reckless move could destroy months of work.Across the street, the driver's door of the SUV opened again, and the man in the

Behind the DoorLiam's POVThe man standing in my apartment smiled like we had met before, but I had never seen him in my life, and he looked to be in his late fifties, dressed in a charcoal overcoat despite the warmth outside.His hair was neatly combed, and a pair of thin glasses rested low on his nose. There was nothing threatening about him, that was what made him terrifying. People who meant trouble usually looked the part.This man looked like someone's favorite professor. "I apologize for the late visit," he said politely. "May I come in?" He asked.I frowned. "You're already inside." I muttered, shaking with fear.He glanced around my apartment before giving me an apologetic smile. "Fair point." He acknowledged. My grip tightened around the hockey stick hidden beside my leg. "I asked a simple question," I said. "Who are you?"He ignored it, but instead, his eyes drifted to the brown envelope lying on my kitchen table. "So...you opened the file?" He asked and every muscle in my