Betrayed Heiress: Marrying The Hockey King

Cassidy Humphrey's POV:

My illness flared up again.

Pain twisted through my stomach, making my whole body shake. I had run out of medication days ago and couldn't afford more.

The life I once had as the Humphrey family's heiress, born into one of hockey's most powerful families, was long gone.

I had cut ties with my family and walked away from the life of privilege I was born into because I believed I had found the man I would spend my life with.

But now, I was lying alone on the cold floor of a run down apartment, fighting just to stay awake.

My cheek pressed against the rough, splintered floorboards as I struggled to breathe. I dry-heaved, my throat burning from the sharp sting of bile.

Above me, the flickering light bulb cast shaky shadows across the peeling wallpaper. This place was nothing like the mansion I grew up in, but I had once convinced myself that none of it mattered.

My fingernails dug into the dust, scraping against the floor until they hit the cracked screen of my phone. With trembling fingers, I unlocked it. The harsh light from the screen stabbed into my eyes, reflecting my pale, hollow face back at me.

I tapped the pinned contact.

Boyce Tucker.

The struggling hockey trainee I had once sponsored. The young player who had no background, no connections when I first met him.

I was the one who helped him enter the professional hockey world. I used my family's resources, my connections, and everything I had to support him until he became the man everyone admired.

Now, he was America's hottest hockey star.

For him, I chose this small, cold apartment over the mansion I grew up in. I believed love mattered more than wealth, status, and everything my family had given me.

I had built my entire life around him, so when I had nowhere else to turn, he was the only person I could call.

I didn't need him to say he loved me. I didn't need him to come back. I only needed help.

An ambulance. A few hundred dollars for my medication. Anything that would stop me from dying alone on this floor.

The ringing continued, each tone pounding against my skull. Finally, the call connected.

"Oh, you poor little thing." A sweet voice came through the phone.

Beryl Parks. A familiar face at every major hockey charity event, she had carefully built the image of the perfect hockey star's partner-graceful, supportive, and admired by everyone in the hockey world.

"Beryl..." My voice came out weak and hoarse. "Where's Boyce? Let me talk to Boyce..."

My throat burned, and I tasted blood.

Beryl laughed softly. "He's a little busy right now. Celebrating."

My chest tightened. "Celebrating what?"

The fake concern in her voice disappeared, replaced by unmistakable satisfaction. "Celebrating the fact that he finally got Humphrey Group."

My entire body froze. "My father's company?"

"Yes, darling." Her voice was filled with mockery. "The company your father spent his entire life building. The company you handed to him with your own hands because you believed he loved you."

Her words hurt more than the pain spreading through my body.

"Don't you understand, Cassidy? You were the perfect heiress when you were useful. The perfect woman who gave Boyce everything he needed."

I couldn't speak.

Humphrey Group. My father's life's work.

Even after I walked away from my family, I was still his only daughter. No matter how much I had hurt him, he never stopped loving me. Before he passed away, he left Humphrey Group to me-the hockey company he had spent his life building, with investments in professional teams and elite training programs.

Before he passed away, he left Humphrey Group in my hands-the hockey empire he had spent his entire life building.

But I was blinded by love. I used the company my father entrusted to me as the ultimate proof of my devotion to Boyce. I handed Humphrey Group-the legacy my father had left me-to the man I believed I would spend my life with, thinking I was giving him the future we had dreamed of together.

I never imagined that the man I gave everything to would be the very person who would reveal his true nature to me.

Then I heard movement on the other end of the call.

"Cassidy." Boyce's voice was cold and unfamiliar. "You're still alive?"

My fingers trembled. "Boyce..." I forced myself to speak. "I need money."

My breathing became uneven. "I'm sick. I need my medicine. Please..."

A short silence followed. Then he laughed. A cold, indifferent laugh. "Are you still pretending you don't understand?"

My heart sank.

"You were never the person I wanted to spend my life with, Cassidy. You were the daughter of the Humphrey family. The one person who could give me everything I wanted."

My vision blurred.

"Beryl was different." He said her name so naturally, so calmly. "She was the one I wanted beside me."

Those words hurt more than anything else. Beryl laughed softly in the background.

"See, Cassidy? You gave him everything he needed. Humphrey Group, investors, connections. You helped him become the person he is today." Her voice was full of satisfaction. "But the person he wanted was always me."

Boyce didn't deny it.

"Exactly. You helped me get closer to everything I wanted. You helped me reach the top of the hockey world." A brief silence followed. "But that doesn't mean I loved you."

Those few words shattered the last bit of hope I had left.

"Stop calling." His voice turned impatient. "You're interrupting my time with Beryl."

The call ended. The apartment fell silent. Only my broken breathing remained. Hot tears slid down my face and landed on the cracked phone screen.

Everything I had given him...

My love. My family. My future. My entire life.

It was all just a stepping stone for him.

For Boyce , I abandoned the Humphrey family. I walked away from the world I was born into and chose this freezing apartment because I believed love mattered more than status.

I endured the humiliation. I helped him gain investors. I helped him secure sponsorships. I stood behind him as he climbed from an unknown player to a hockey superstar.

And now, he was celebrating the success my sacrifice had bought him with the two people I trusted most.

Boyce Tucker. Beryl Parks.

My body suddenly spasmed. I curled my knees to my chest, my teeth chattering as the cold spread through me.

If I could have one more chance... I would never make the same choice again. I would take back everything they stole from me. I would make Boyce and Beryl Parks pay for every betrayal.

The edges of the room slowly blurred as darkness closed in.

The phone screen lit up one last time.

A missed call. From a name I hadn't seen in a long time.

Case Hoover.

The hockey prodigy who had become the captain of the New York Rangers. The heir of the Hoover family, a legendary "old money" dynasty that had shaped the hockey world for generations.

He was also the man my father had once chosen for me. The billionaire I had rejected for Boyce.

The phone kept ringing beside me. I wanted to reach for it, but my fingers no longer had the strength.

And before I could find out why he was calling...The darkness finally took me.

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.

Cassidy Humphrey's POV:

I pushed through the heavy doors leading into the arena concourse. The cold air from the rink slowly faded, replaced by the familiar smell of fried food and coffee from the training center cafeteria.

I bypassed the exit leading to the off-campus pharmacy. I walked straight into the training center's athlete cafeteria.

The room was packed with players in half-gear and figure skaters in tracksuits.

My stomach cramped-not from the illness, but from hunger. In my past life, I had starved myself to fit the fragile image Boyce liked.

I stepped up to the hot food counter.

The server, wiping down the glass, looked up. "For Boyce? The usual protein bowl?"

I planted my hands on the metal rail. "No. For me. I'll have two."

The woman blinked, startled by my request.

"Two double cheeseburgers, two large fries, with extra gravy," I pointed at the heavy-duty menu meant for the defensemen. "And two Cokes."

I slapped my ID card on the scanner. It beeped, draining funds my father had provided-funds I used to waste on Boyce's post-practice meals.

I grabbed the two loaded trays, the heat of the food warming my palms.

Every head in the cafeteria turned. Their eyes tracked the mountain of food, then darted to my face.

"See? She still went to get him food. A double portion, even," a girl in a figure skating jacket whispered.

"Pathetic," a guy in a hockey jersey muttered.

The words buzzed around me like flies, but for the first time, they didn't sting.

I ignored the "king's table" near the windows where Boyce's teammates usually held court. I walked to a quiet corner booth, set the trays down with a heavy thud, and slid into the seat.

Under the weight of a hundred stares, I picked up the burger.

I took a massive bite. The hot grease and rich meat flooded my mouth. I closed my eyes, chewing slowly, letting the sheer, grounding weight of the food anchor me to the living world.

I devoured the first tray, my movements precise but relentless.

I pulled the second tray closer. The whispers in the room escalated into an audible buzz.

Through the glass doors, I saw Boyce storming into the cafeteria, still in his under-gear, his face dark with impatience. He scanned the room, clearly expecting me to bring his meal over like I always did.

But when his eyes landed on me, he stopped. The empty wrappers, the second burger in my hand, and the gravy on my fries were not what he expected to see.

For years, I had been the person who followed his every request without hesitation. Seeing me sit there, ignoring him completely, seemed impossible for him to accept. The surprise on his face quickly turned into anger.

I met his furious gaze, dipped a fry into the gravy, and popped it into my mouth.

I finished the last drop of Coke, set the cup down, and let out a quiet, satisfied breath.

It was the most satisfying meal I had eaten in two lifetimes.

I stacked the greasy trays, stood up, and carried them to the trash bin. The entire cafeteria watched in silence as I threw everything away and walked out.