"You still think you’re the main character in your own story, don’t you, Mercer? That’s cute. You were written out the moment you let me inside you. You don’t exist without me now. And you love it." Kade Mercer an unstoppable force on the ice, destined for the NHL. One reckless mistake, one desperate night, and it was all over. The trap was set long before he even stepped onto the ice. Nikolai Volkov, mafia kingpin and team owner, orchestrated it all—the seduction, the scandal, the blackmail. Now, Kade isn’t just owned. He’s trapped. He still plays. He still wins. But only when they let him. Throw a game. Obey. Or lose everything. But the real hell doesn’t come from Nikolai. It comes from his son, Rook Volkov. Golden boy of a rival team. Hockey’s rising star. Kade’s worst enemy. He’s spent years fighting Kade, hating him, wanting him. Now? He owns him. Rook doesn’t destroy Kade’s career—he controls it. His flights. His bank accounts. His entire life. And when Kade resists? Rook makes him pay. First, he makes him beg. Then, he makes him like it. Every punishment, every violation, every humiliating submission forces Kade deeper into the world Rook has carved out for him. A world where the line between rivalry and ownership has been erased. A world where Kade can fight all he wants—but he’ll never escape. Because Rook isn’t keeping him prisoner.
View MoreKade POVThe bar is packed when we get there, the energy buzzing, drinks flowing easily. It’s one of the places hockey guys always hit after games, filled with a mix of fans, reporters, and the usual crowd looking to get close to anyone with a shot at the big leagues. I let the guys pull me toward the bar, already ordering rounds, the familiar rhythm of celebration settling over us.I grab a drink, lean against the counter, and try to let the noise drown out everything else, but then I feel it. A stare, someone is staring at me. I don’t have to turn to know who it is. My grip tightens around my glass, my jaw clenching as I finally glance over my shoulder.Rook.He’s across the bar, sitting in a booth with a few of his teammates, but his eyes are locked onto me, unwavering, unreadable. He hasn’t looked away once, like he’s been waiting for me to notice. There’s no smirk this time, no cocky grin, no teasing insult waiting to be thrown across the room. Just him, watching me.And the wors
Kade’s POVMy knuckles throb, the sting of raw skin pulsing with every beat of my heart. Blood is smeared across my fingers as I flex them, testing how bad the damage is. The refs tossed me into the penalty box like a rabid dog, shoving me down onto the bench while the game moved on without me. I should be cooling off, getting my breathing under control, letting the adrenaline settle. But I can’t. Not when he’s still out there.Rook fucking Volkov.He’s on the other side of the ice, looking as smug as ever, his lips split from my punch, his grin only widening when he catches me watching him. I should have known he’d enjoy this. The bastard always does. He doesn’t care about the game, doesn’t care about the fight itself—he just cares that I lost control first. That I was the one who snapped, the one who gave him exactly what he wanted.I drag a hand through my hair, gripping the back of my neck as I try to shake the feeling of him off me. I can still feel the press of his body against
Rook POVKade is playing like a man possessed. He’s not setting up plays, not following his usual style of controlled chaos. No, this is something else entirely. Every shift, he’s gunning straight for me, reckless in a way I’ve never seen before. There’s no reason for it, no build-up, no words exchanged that should’ve pushed him over the edge. But every time we’re near each other, he goes for me.And I fucking love it.Every hit, every shove, every time his body collides with mine, I can feel it under my skin, feeding something dark and hungry inside me. I’ve spent years pushing him, pulling him into my orbit, forcing him to acknowledge me. But this? This is different. He’s not just reacting, he’s initiating.I catch his eye after another brutal check, my back slamming into the boards. The crowd reacts, the play keeps moving, but all I care about is the look in his eyes. His chest is rising and falling fast, his gloved hands clenched tight, jaw locked like he’s fighting himself. But h
Rook’s POVThe locker room is humming with the usual pre-game energy, the guys are stretching, taping their sticks and adjusting their gear. They are all going through the motions like this just any other game. It's not. At least for me it isn't. Sitting on the bench, I lace up my skates with slow deliberate movements, letting the anticipation settle deep into my chest. This game isn't important in our standings, and such, it's just a charity game. it's meant to be a time when we put on a good show, winning and losing means nothing. I don't care about the show, the only thing that matters to me right now, is that Kade Mercer is on the other side of the ice. For the first time in years, I don't know what version of him I'm going to get on the ice. Yesterday I felt it, the shift in him, something told me he wasn't himself. Mercer is always cocky, reckless and for some reason, he's always pushing forward like he doesn't give a fuck about anything but winning. Yesterday though? He was s
Rook POVIt’s a short walk, not as short as Kade’s would be if he were heading back to his place, but close enough. That was my father’s doing, making sure I stayed nearby even after I could have moved out on my own. Other guys my age, other players, have their own apartments, their own lives. Not me.Because when your father runs the city, you don’t just walk away.By the time I reach the estate, the sun is already dipping lower, washing everything in a dull gold light. The gates open as I approach, and the security stationed outside barely glances at me. They all know who I am. More importantly, they know what my father would do to them if anything happened to me.The house is as cold and impersonal as ever, a sprawling mansion that screams power rather than home. The moment I step inside, I hear voices coming from my father’s office, low murmurs laced with tension.I should head upstairs, pretend I don’t hear it, but I don’t. Instead, I step toward the heavy wooden doors and push o
Rook’s POVI watch as Kade Mercer moves through the streets like nothing can touch him. Staying a few steps behind him I trail him with my hands shoved into my pockets. I watch the way he walks, his head high and shoulders back. He's got that same cocky swagger like the whole damn world belongs to him. Still, there is something off. I've watched him enough now to know the difference in him. Normally, Kade moves like a damn storm, he's reckless, confident and always pushing forward without hesitation. But tonight? He hesitates. It's subtle, and most wouldn't even notice. I do though, I notice the way he glances over his shoulder, the way his fingers twitch at his sides before he shoves them back into his pockets. His steps also aren't quite as sure, his pace also not as steady as it normally is. He's distracted for some reason. That thought alone makes my stomach twist.Kade doesn't get distracted, he doesn't second-guess himself. So what the hell is going on with him right now?I fo
Kade POVI hate this.“I want you to throw your next game,” he says finally. “A very specific game. Against my son’s team.”Rook.The name alone is enough to send a spark of rage through me. We’ve spent years going at each other on the ice, tearing into every game like it’s war. We fight. We push each other. He pisses me off more than any other player in the league, and I live for every second of it. And now, Nikolai wants me to lose to him.A bitter laugh slips from my throat before I can stop it. “You want me to throw a game against Rook?” I shake my head. “You think I’m gonna let that asshole win without a fight?”“You won’t be letting him win,” Nikolai corrects smoothly. “You’ll be making sure he wins. There’s a difference.”I clench my jaw so hard it hurts. Every instinct in me screams to tell him to fuck off. But I don’t because I can’t.I exhale sharply, rubbing a hand over my face before dropping it back to my lap. “And if I agree?” My voice is sharp, biting. “That’s it? You d
Kade’s POVThe Regent Hotel seems to almost come alive today under the afternoon sun, its glass reflects the bright sky, making it look even more expensive and high end than it already is.Standing outside for a moment, I adjust my jacket, inhaling slowly. I should walk away, I should turn around, go anywhere but here. But I don’t.Instead, I push through the revolving doors, stepping into the cool, perfectly controlled lobby of the hotel.The lobby is everything I expected from a place like this. It has high ceilings, polished marble floors, and there's the quiet hum of wealth mixed into every inch of the place. Staff move efficiently behind the front desk, while the guests linger in expensive suits and designer dresses, but I don’t stop. I already know where I’m going.A woman in a black dress steps into my path, smiling in that professional way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "Sir, may I assist you?”I meet her gaze, keeping my voice steady. I didn't need someone to help me, thi
Kade POVI ignore everyone, I ignore the talk of the reporter, I ignore it all, at least I try, that is until across the table, Alex’s phone buzzes. I watch as he glances at the screen and frowns. “What the fuck?” He tilts his phone toward Tyler. “Why is Mercer dropping in the draft rankings?”My grip on the glass tightens, no, fucking no, that better be a joke. I don't move, I just watch as Tyler grabs his phone.He begins scrolling fast, his brows pulling together. “Holy shit. You dropped two spots.”Ben snorts at his words, his eyes flick to me briefly. “Yeah, that makes no sense. You just won us the fucking championship.”A few of the other guys begin to pull out their phones, they are all murmuring to each other. Someone curses under their breath and my ears start ringing because this isn't just some minor slip. It’s noticeable, players don’t just drop after a game like the one I just played. Not unless something behind the scenes is scaring teams off. This isn’t a coincidence,
Kade POVThe bass from the music vibrates through the floor beneath my feet, the heat of so many bodies pressing into me from every direction. The club is electric, alive with the high that comes after a championship win. Most of the noise is coming from people who are shouting, then there's drinks getting spilt, as I walk through hands grab at me, pulling me deeper into the chaos.I should be celebrating. I should be drunk off my ass, soaking up the attention, riding this high for as long as it lasts, but instead, I can’t stop looking up. Sure I'm drunk, but not enough, yet.“Mercer!”A hard slap lands between my shoulder blades, making me stumble forward. Turning, I see Tyler grinning at me, his blond hair damp with sweat, his eyes already glazed over from too many shots. He's wasted already.“Come on, man! We fucking won! You should be wasted by now,” he shouts over the music, shaking his drink at me like I’m supposed to grab it.Forcing a smirk, I look at him. “I’m working on it...
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