Chapter 91: The Price of the Trophy

Kieran’s POV

The bedroom was very quiet after seeing my mother in pain, My ankle throbbed under the heavy plaster cast. My cracked ribs hurt with every breath. The house was completely dead. The huge argument was over. My mother had walked away from him. I thought we were safe now, I thought the worst part was over. I was completely wrong.

Then, I heard heavy footsteps in the hallway. My father opened the door and walked in. He did not ask to enter. He never did. But he looked completely different now. His hair was messy. His expensive silk tie was gone. The top button of his white shirt was torn off.

He just walked slowly over to my bed. He sat down right on the edge of the mattress. He stared down at his own hands. His hands were shaking slightly.

"Do you know what they called me, Kieran?" he asked. His voice was a quiet whisper. "Number nine. The unstoppable forward. That was my name."

I did not say anything. I just watched him.

He let out a short, cold laugh.

"Then my knee exploded on the ice," he said. He slowly looked up at me. His eyes looked tired and dark. "The pain was bad. I lay on that frozen rink. The crowd was completely silent.

The doctors came out. They took me to the hospital.

The next morning, the head surgeon sat by my bed. He told me I was finished. He told me I would never skate fast again. He told me my hockey career was dead."

He paused. He gripped his own knee tightly.

"But I did not let an injury destroy my name," my father said. His voice became harder. "I did not lie in bed and cry. I fought the physical pain every single day. I went to the gym.

I worked until my body bled. And when the ice rink closed its doors to me, I built a business empire

instead. I worked twenty hours a day. I made millions.

I did all of it so the Hampton name would live forever. I did not let a broken bone stop me. I beat the injury."

He reached deep into his suit pocket. He pulled out a small, clear medical vial. Inside the glass, there was a single, strange pill.

He set the vial down on my bedside table. It made a small clicking sound against the wood.

"One pill," he said. He pointed a finger at it. "Fast-acting healing. It is an experimental drug from Europe. It stops the nerve pain completely. It blocks the brain from feeling the agony in your ankle. It will give you sixty minutes of perfect movement on the ice."

I just stared at the vial. "I don't want your drugs, Richard."

"Your coach already replaced you, Kieran," my father said. He completely ignored my words. "Hale called the press networks an hour ago.

They are writing the sports headlines right now. They are naming a new replacement for the championship finals. You are out."

My throat went completely dry. I felt a cold shock in my stomach. "Hale wouldn't do that, he doesn't even know if the injury is that severe. He knows what I gave to this team. I am the captain. I earned that spot."

"You were the captain," my father snapped. He leaned closer to me. "Think about everything you did for that team, Kieran. Think about the broken bones. Think about the early mornings. Think about the blood you spilt on the ice for them. The moment you get hurt, you are absolutely nothing to them. They do not care about you, your loyalty or sacrifice. They just want a body that can score goals."

"I did it for the team," I said. My voice shook with anger. "Not for you. And not just for a cheap trophy. The players respect me."

"Do not be stupid," my father said. He stood up from the bed. He began to walk around my room. "Without the trophy, you are just a broken boy in a hospital bed.

Nobody remembers second place. Nobody respects a captain who sits on the bench and watches his team lose. If you do not play in this final, your entire hockey path is over.

The scouts will look at you and see a fragile rookie. Is that what you want? Do you want to be a nobody?"

"You are the one who is afraid of being a nobody," I said. I forced myself to sit up higher. The pain in my ribs was sharp, but I ignored it. I stared straight into his tired eyes.

"That is why you are in my room right now. You are not only worried about my hockey path but also because mom stood up to you in the lobby. She finally broke your control and took her inheritance back now you are completely panicking."

My father’s jaw tightened. A dark vein appeared on his forehead. He did not like my words. He stopped walking and came back to the bed.

He slammed his hand down on the mattress right next to my leg.

"Your mother is acting tough right now," he said. He pointed a shaking finger toward the hallway. "She stood in the lobby and made a big speech. But she is completely breaking inside. She is going to destroy this entire family over a single mistake."

"The mistake was how you treated us for years," I said. My voice was low and cold. "You cheated on her. You abused me. You ruined this family yourself."

"I gave you everything!" my father shouted. His old, terrifying rage came back. His face turned a dark red. Then, he stopped himself. He took a deep breath. He forced his face to go calm again. He smoothed down his shirt. He spoke in a soft, manipulative voice.

"You need to convince her to stop the divorce, Kieran. You are her son, she listens to you. Go to her room. Tell her that I am sorry. Tell her I will change

We need each other to survive this."

"You want me to lie to her?" I asked. I let out a bitter laugh. "You just want to save your corporate accounts. You want to save your precious Hampton brand."

"I am trying to save your future too, you ungrateful boy," he said coldly. "If she files those legal papers, the news will be everywhere. The corporate board will panic. The company stock will drop to zero.

The sponsors for your NHL draft will pull out immediately. No professional team will touch a player from a ruined, scandalous family. If she ruins the Hampton name, your hockey career is dead anyway. We go down together."

He walked back to the bedside table. He tapped his fingernail against the small glass vial.

"Take the drug. Fix your ankle," he whispered. His eyes were dark and full of a sick obsession. "Go talk to your mother. Tell her what she needs to hear. Save this family, Captain."

"And what if I say no?" I asked. "What if I let her divorce you and take half of everything?"

My father smiled. It was a horrible, empty smile. "Then I will make sure the legal battle lasts for ten years. I will hire the most ruthless lawyers in the country. Freeze every single bank account.

Your mother will have no money for food, no money for this estate, and no money for your medical bills. She will be broke before she ever sees a courtroom. I have offshore accounts, Kieran. I can survive a long war. She cannot."

He stood up straight. He looked down at me like I was a piece of property he owned.

"Think about it," my father said. "You can be the hero who saves your mother's life. Or you can be the reason she loses everything. The choice is yours."

He turned around. His expensive shoes clicked against the floorboards. He walked out of my room and closed the door hard.

The loud click of the lock sounded like a prison door closing.

I lay there in the complete darkness. My heart was racing too fast. My chest felt tight. I stared at the small glass vial sitting on the table, the single pill.

My father was a monster. He had just turned my own love for my mother into a weapon against me. He was trying to make me fix his own disgusting mess, and I did not know how to stop him.