Game Over, My Mr. Hockey

Chapter 4

Word Count: 768 | Released on: Today at 18:00

creen illuminating my resolute face. My fingers flew a

amily co

p memorabi

shape in my mind, p

rished. I will make you pay for

my room, discussing the divorce proceedings and the logistics of moving out with Sloane. I kept

yground, and I was merely a harmless obstacle. He drew all over my favorite cashmere rug with permanent markers. He poured m

ene. I just quietly recorded the

dusting in the living room. Caleb was chasing t

ing was

stairs, making s

nlocked it with a small key. Then I took out a piece of silk cloth. Very slo

y piqued, trotted o

room. "This is my favorite thing in the whole world. It's the most precious treasure

structive spark of a spoiled child wh

her's most prized heirloom. It's the stick that the legendary Art Coulter used to s

housekeeper on the other side. "Mrs. White, please keep a clo

solemnly. "Of co

, "Especially Caleb. He's too

row as he stared at the lock o

s and watched from

noticed Caleb's obsession with the cabinet. She sent Mrs. Whit

arted trying to pick the old-fashioned lock w

ked open with

nt grin on his face. He swung it like a

the players he'd seen on TV, and

all, and the fragile,

broken pieces in his hands

ing a tray of tea and scones. She saw the

hat have you done?" she shrieked,

r face went white. She had probably only meant to let her son play with

ched the beauti

friend who owned an art gallery: Y

umber for the Gordon

ds," I sobbed into the phone at the butler on th

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Game Over, My Mr. Hockey

Blair Dippel Romance

“For three years, my marriage to Bradly Gordon, the golden boy of the NHL, was nothing more than a freezing, sexless public image. On the eve of our third anniversary, I walked into his dark study and caught him masturbating to a picture of his late brother's widow, Chandler. The very next day, he moved her and her spoiled son into our home. Her son intentionally destroyed my late mother's belongings and the only photograph I had of my parents. When I confronted them, Bradly fiercely protected Chandler, violently shoving me into a sharp table. He even abandoned me at a crucial high-society dinner to chase after rumors of Chandler dating other men. Left entirely alone, I was publicly humiliated by my adoptive family and cast out into a freezing blizzard. I didn't understand how he could be so blindly devoted to his sister-in-law while treating his legal wife like garbage. As I lay half-dead in the snow, he was busy buying her an extravagant pink diamond. His cruel mockery echoed in my mind. "Do you really think a man can love a woman he doesn't touch?" That was the final straw. I stopped playing the meek, pathetic wife. I set a trap with a fake six-million-dollar antique hockey stick for her son to destroy, packed my bags, and left him a signed divorce agreement as his birthday gift.”