The Two-Million Dollar Fake Fiancée

Chapter 3

Word Count: 1056 | Released on: 09/09/2026

ing screech, and before the puck eve

g blindfolded since I was six years old. Instead, the vulcanized rubber sk

kers from the bench. Behind my eyes, a sledgehammer pounded against my skull in rhythmic agony. Stal

he boards, arms folded over his chest, his jaw set like reinfo

tapping my composite stick twice against the s

one yelled, and the whistle rest

didn't even need a fancy deke. He just leaned on his outside edge, dropped his shoulder, and blew right past me. I turned l

fters of the practice facility,

s fucking orn

didn't skate hard to make up for the blown coverage. I just stared back at Harrison, my chin rais

nce Harrison had left. He jammed the whistle betwee

ting a thick finger toward th

nter ice, forming a rigid, quiet semi-circle. Nobody spoke. Nobody looked at each other. More i

gate, stepping onto the fresh sheet with his heavy, lug-soled win

es V

on the back of my neck stand up. He stopped inches from me. He was half a head short

that carried across the breathless rink. "That 'C' stands for Captain. It stands for lea

mine. I saw no anger there-only

tly. "Do you honestly thin

lummeted through the ice into

ealing with things. Say you were up until four in the morning staring at the ceiling because every time y

throat was sealed shu

devoid of warmth. "As of this second, you ar

forward. He seized the embroidered white-and-gold 'C' sewn o

ring and nylon stitches po

clean off

patch of stitched fabric, but in that fraction of a second, it felt as thoug

lder, Declan-my best friend, the only guy who knew how bad the nights had gotten-stared at me, his eyes wide with hel

cloth onto the white ice between my skates,

his back on me. "I don't want to see you out

hout looking back, blowing his whis

public execution. The world seemed to mute. All I could see w

ust a ghost

tick back and slashed down, driving the blade violently into the patch. The impact sent a ringing shockwave vibrating up t

t to see whe

t my eyes pinned straight ahead, refusing to meet Declan's gaze, refus

Chapter End

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The Two-Million Dollar Fake Fiancée

Breeze Modern

“"Sign the contract. Keep my secrets. And never, ever fall in love." Fired, blacklisted, and desperate, Maya Prescott is completely out of options. With her mother's astronomical medical bills ticking like a time bomb, Maya drunkenly applies for a mysterious $200,000-a-year personal assistant job. She expects a scam. Instead, she's handed an ironclad, million-dollar non-disclosure agreement binding her to the most notorious bad-boy in New York. Miles Vance is hockey royalty. He has the lavish lifestyle, the devastatingly handsome face, and a self-destructive streak that just cost him his team captaincy. Drowning his tragic past and suffocating guilt in whiskey and chaotic nights, Miles expects his new "babysitter" to be just another pushover he can easily scare away. He couldn't be more wrong. Maya marches into his trashed penthouse, kicks out the blackmailing puck-bunnies in his bed, and completely flips his life upside down. She is fierce, unapologetic, and entirely immune to his arrogant charm. Their arrangement is supposed to be strictly business: she cleans up his messes, and he pays for her mother's life-saving treatments. But the tight quarters of the penthouse ignite a dangerous, undeniable chemistry. Beneath Miles's ruthless playboy exterior is a shattered, vulnerable man who desperately needs an anchor. And Maya might just be the only one who can save him from his own demons. When scandals threaten to destroy his career for good, a simple employment contract isn't enough to fix his ruined image. He needs the ultimate PR stunt: a fake fiancée. The offer is two million dollars. The only rule? Don't fall in love. But when fake kisses start feeling dangerously real, Maya realizes she might be signing away the one thing money can't buy-her heart.”