The Hockey Star's Runaway Fake Girlfriend

Chapter 6

Word Count: 731 | Released on: Today at 18:36

Owens

against the marble floor with a sharp, piercing shri

ance, Preston remained expressionless, and Christian... hi

the room. "You're right. I did get a cat. Because at least the cat doesn't ma

k you for the meal and for the clarity, Mrs. Carlisle. I final

walked away. I could feel Christian's

he heels of my shoes clacking against the

cating place, to escape the looks

r, I heard Christian's voi

idn

mping down on my wrist. His palm was hot, his gr

oice low and strained. "You can't just

pun around, glaring at him with all

with. You think I'm just going to sit there and take it because your name is on my tuition check? I'm done

k in that cold armor. "That's not what I-"

eant? It doesn't matter what you meant. It matters what you said. An

him. I turned, pulled open the heavy

iting by the car. He looked su

rtment," I commanded, sl

apartment was rush to my bedroom and drag a d

d used when I moved in

hings that were truly mine, things that had n

clothes I'd bought with my own mon

g room table. The 13 hockey jacket, a few pieces of expensive jewelry

e sat quietly at my feet, rubbing his

ace in his warm, soft fur. I

the Carlisle family's "charity" to finish my

ugh. It was mo

my eyes hardening

this apartment, but th

e, about to call Jo

tment door opened.

f the living room, then to the pile of his b

Chapter End

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The Hockey Star's Runaway Fake Girlfriend

Lu Meng Modern

“I was the fake contract girlfriend of Christian Carlisle, Briar University's star hockey captain. On the night he returned to town, I foolishly made a perfect dinner and waited for him, only to find out he was busy drinking at a frat party. Worse, when his elite family summoned me, he publicly humiliated me at their dinner table, mocking me as a desperate stray who didn't belong in their world. When I finally snapped and told him I was done, he drove me out to a desolate, pitch-black highway and abandoned me by the side of the road with my suitcase. Days later, his mother's assistant called to coldly evict me from our apartment. Then came the email: a legal termination agreement offering me a fifty-thousand-dollar severance fee to shut up and disappear from his life forever. Meanwhile, the campus blogs were already celebrating his reunion with his wealthy childhood sweetheart, painting me as a pathetic gold-digger who finally got what she deserved. Fifty thousand dollars. That was the exact price they put on my dignity and two years of my youth. They really thought they could just buy my silence, crush my pride, and discard me like trash without a second thought. I didn't cry, and I didn't sign the papers. Instead, I picked up my phone and sent the untouchable hockey king one last text. "I saw the agreement. Before I sign anything, I want to see you one last time. You name the time and place."”