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Betrayed Heiress: Marrying The Hockey King Novel Cover

Betrayed Heiress: Marrying The Hockey King

I sacrificed college and drained my savings to fund Boyce's NHL dream. Dying in a damp hospital room, I called him for treatment money and heard his new girlfriend laughing. He called me a useless puck bunny and an ATM, then hung up. Beryl called back with the truth: Boyce had arranged my HIV infection to shed me and chase hockey without baggage. As I took my last breath, a man sent by Case Hoover—my forgotten wealthy fiancé—arrived to save me. I died in agony, held together by bottomless hatred. Then I opened my eyes, gasping, staring at my healthy eighteen-year-old reflection. Reborn in senior year, I won't be his stepping stone again. This time, I'll make him pay the ultimate price.
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Chapter 2

Cassidy Humphrey's POV:

My consciousness drifted in and out.

"She's here! We found her!" A man's voice broke through the endless darkness. "Mr. Hoover, we've found her!"

Hoover... Case Hoover?

I wanted to open my eyes, but my body felt heavy, trapped somewhere between life and death.

Why was he here? Why was the man I had pushed away the one searching for me?

A strange sound echoed deep within my fading consciousness. A sharp, unfamiliar beep drifted through the darkness as my thoughts slowly disappeared.

Then everything went quiet.

When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I felt was the cold.

It wasn't the cold floor of that ruined apartment. It was the familiar chill of the ice rink. The smell of freshly cut ice, sweat, and hockey equipment filled my lungs, pulling me back to a place I had buried deep in my memory.

The bright lights above the rink blurred my vision. I looked down and froze when I saw my hands gripping the edge of the bleachers.

They were the same hands I remembered. Young, uninjured, untouched by the years of suffering that had followed.

I touched my face, almost afraid that everything would disappear the moment I realized it.

But my skin was warm. My heartbeat was steady. I was alive.

The elite hockey training center appeared exactly as I remembered it. My senior year. Before everything changed—before I walked away from my family, rejected Case, and chose Boyce as my future.

A loud bang pulled me back. A hockey glove hit the plexiglass in front of me.

Boyce stood behind the barrier, his helmet pushed back, his expression filled with the same confidence that had once made me admire him.

Back then, I thought that confidence meant he was someone worth following. Now, I could only see the arrogance hidden beneath it.

I remembered this practice clearly.

Beryl had been sitting a few rows above me, pretending to have stomach cramps, while Boyce casually asked me to leave the arena and get food for her.

Back then, I never thought it was humiliating. I believed it was something I should do for the man I loved.

But that was the moment I slowly became someone who existed only around his needs.

The players on the ice had noticed it too. Their drills slowed as whispers spread across the rink.

"Look, Boyce is ordering his maid around again."

"She does everything he asks. Does she even have a life outside of him?"

Those words had embarrassed me in my previous life. Now, hearing them again, all I felt was regret.

My father, Robert Humphrey, had given me everything. I had been born into one of the most powerful hockey families in America, yet I threw away that life for Boyce.

At that time, I never questioned him.

I thought taking care of him and the people around him was what someone who loved him was supposed to do.

I had forgotten that I was Cassidy Humphrey, the daughter of the Humphrey family, not someone who existed only to fulfill his every request.

Boyce tapped his stick against the glass. "Hey. I'm talking to you."

He stepped out from the rink entrance, his skates clicking against the rubber floor as he walked toward me.

In the past, I would have answered immediately. I would have smiled, apologized, and done whatever he asked without hesitation.

This time, I simply moved away from his hand. His glove stopped in the air.

Boyce looked at me in surprise. Around us, the players slowly stopped their practice. The sound of skates cutting across the ice faded, leaving only the silence between us.

I met his eyes.

The confusion on his face grew.

I stood up and picked up my bag. Without saying a word, I turned and walked toward the exit.

My boots struck against the concrete floor as I left behind the place where I had once lost myself.

This time, I would not let anyone take control of my life again.

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