The Hockey King's Coveted Billionaire Heiress

From the back cover

For three years, I played the role of a poor, devoted girlfriend, pulling all-nighters to analyze hockey stats and custom-tune skates just to keep my boyfriend, Dedric, on the varsity team.

Then I overheard him laughing in the locker room with his frat brothers.

He told them he was just using me for free labor and planned to toss me aside for a wealthy heiress once his family's sports sponsorship deal went through.

"When I lock down Edwina, the stray goes back to the gutter," he sneered. "Even after I dump her, she'll still hand over her tactical models on her knees."

When I kicked the door open and dumped him on the spot, he lost his mind.

He threatened to blacklist me from every athletic program in the country, screaming that I was a penniless parasite who was absolutely nothing without the Salas family name.

His new heiress girlfriend even tried to humiliate me in public, mocking my clothes and accusing me of stealing.

They actually believed I was a desperate charity case clinging to their mediocre wealth.

They had no idea that the revolutionary skate technology keeping their entire family business afloat was secretly patented by me.

Nor did they know my real identity.

I didn't shed a single tear.

I just packed my bags, blocked his number, and got into the midnight-black Maybach sent by my uncle.

It was time to stop playing house in the student slums and show them who really owned the ice.