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The Hockey King's Secret Twins

Chapter 7 

Word Count: 800    |    Released on: 22/10/2026

nna

tailored black slacks, sunglasses pushed up in my

o

ears ago I had nothing. Now I walked in like I

late! Who do you think

ed at m

ur. You have twenty-five

somebody now? You're the same trash yo

y think I'd stand here and watch you throw a tantrum? You ca

ust call m

you caug

ned and close

Did you

on the table. "Five years, and the

very fight was my fault. Five y

ering. I turned and

g?" Brielle shrieked. "D

more step and I'll

y father the night you sold me. Break my

end of the seco

ther'

r books. Her reading chair by the window. After she died, I fought to keep it exactly the way she left i

ed the

fr

headboard. Pink fur rug. A ring light in the corner. A hu

edals. Her bo

go

s was still a shrine

me up. She leaned in

in the house on a corpse? I mov

d aroun

ke one step back. Then she remembered s

my mother

t. Actually, I burned most of it, along with all yo

AC

er head snapped to the side. A red

pressed to her face. "You..

AC

The oth

to finish a s

d and lunged at

r even t

r. Five years of self-defense classes. Five years of promi

lat on her back. All t

ne knee ont

ain," I sa

red. Then purple.

ife, she looked at me and s

s. "We didn't burn anything! It's in the basement! All

y knee ba

asping and coughing, and

nd straighte

there," I said. "If one item is missi

t them towar

ter, "Are you insane? You know she goes cra

e! I thought she was dead! Are we su

opped low. I almo

d her perfectly. Let her

, ugly

surprise waiting f

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The Hockey King's Secret Twins
The Hockey King's Secret Twins
“They sold me for ten million dollars. One night with a stranger. My father signed the check. My stepmother poured the drug into my cocoa. My stepsister laughed while two men dragged me upstairs. The man who came to me in the dark was burning with fever, black veins crawling up his arm. He asked me only one thing: "Are you sure?" By dawn, he was gone. He never even saw my face. My family rolled me off a cliff into the river below, and went back inside to finish their wine. Five years later. Ryker Thorne, the billionaire captain of the Boston Ironclads, carries an unconscious woman through a hotel lobby. Then he stops cold. A four-year-old boy in an oversized number 19 jersey is hacking the hotel's computer, right under the front desk girl's nose. The boy looks up. Storm-gray eyes meet storm-gray eyes. The same cold stare Ryker sees in his own mirror before every game. "Dex," Ryker says quietly. "Find out everything about that woman." He doesn't know the boy has already hacked the hotel's security cameras and seen his mother being pulled into Suite 808. He doesn't know the boy has just torn his poster off the bedroom wall. "Ryker Thorne," the boy whispers into the dark. "You messed with the wrong family."”