Fake Dating the Secret Billionaire Hockey Star

Chapter 2

Word Count: 871 | Released on: 17/08/2026

om. Beckett sat at the head of the table, exuding a cold, regal air, his expression unreadable. His l

arely slept, my mind racing through the pros and con

s. "Please read it carefully, especially the sections regarding the non-di

ions of Beckett's choosing-usually inexpensive restaurants or parks. At least two "couple photos" posted on socia

lause made

must, within one week of the contract's execution, move into the resi

back in his chair, arms crossed, a flicker of amusement in

ything look more authentic. If you're not living together, your family or the

still felt wrong. It felt like

g the contract period, a private trust would cover all my tuition and basic living expenses, ensuring no direct financial transactions bet

et to freedom. My inde

name on the final page: Fiona Wagner. The scratch of t

different pen and signed his name with a flourish. In

ssional smile on his face. "A pleasure doin

been sold. Beckett hadn't said a single word to

voice surprising me

to look at me, an unspok

ng my voice even. "What's the a

with a sharp clink. "The address is on the keychain. You have three days. Afte

ot a request. I clenched my fists un

got a sharp tongue. Don't take it to heart.

s attempt at an explanation

fingertips. The keychain was engraved with an address: 1515

now this isn't easy. But please believe me, Beckett

felt more like a grima

. It felt like all of Chicago had become a giant stage, and I was a

st step: go home, announce my "new re

felt harsh. I looked down at the keys in my hand. They f

It was Kristina

You weren't answering your phone! J

g my eyes in exhaustion. "Kris, I'm okay. I just... I

Chapter End

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Fake Dating the Secret Billionaire Hockey Star

Fallen Nimbus Romance

“My sister-in-law didn't want me to marry for love. She wanted me to marry rich-so she could turn my husband into her personal ATM. So I did the one thing guaranteed to ruin all her plans. I got myself a broke hockey player. At least, that's what everyone was supposed to believe. Beckett Hayes needed a girlfriend badly. The Chicago hockey star had a reputation problem, angry sponsors, and too many headlines painting him as arrogant, reckless, and impossible to settle down. I needed a man convincing enough to stop my family from arranging my future for me. Our solution was simple: fake date. His rules were even simpler. Live in his shabby apartment. Help sell the struggling-player act. Smile for the cameras. No real feelings. Easy. Until my family showed up to mock the "loser" I'd chosen-and Beckett stepped between us like they had insulted something that belonged to him. Until he put a no-limit black card in my hand and told me to stop sacrificing my dream of becoming an artist just because I was afraid to spend money. Until our fake dinners started feeling domestic, his hand started finding mine under the table, and I began forgetting that every protective look and possessive touch was supposed to be part of the contract. Then Beckett's grandfather arrived at our tiny apartment wearing cashmere, flanked by bodyguards, carrying a priceless Hayes family heirloom for me. Apparently, pretending to be broke was the easy part. Pretending I wasn't falling for my fake boyfriend was becoming impossible. Especially when his grandfather took our only bedroom and left Beckett and me with one pullout sofa, one night, and absolutely nowhere left to hide.”