I Found the Hockey King's Son, Now He Wants Me as His Mate

At my own engagement party, a sudden fire broke out in the crowded ballroom.

My fiancé, Evan, was standing right next to me. But as the flames spread and the crowd panicked, he ripped his arm from my grasp, pushed me backward, and ran straight into the danger to save my stepsister, Ariane.

"Chloe, you get out first!" he yelled, not even looking back.

I was knocked to the marble floor, trampled by the frantic mob, and nearly burned to death.

When I woke up in the hospital, barely able to breathe, my family didn't come to comfort me.

Instead, my father and stepmother stormed into my room, furious that I was making a scene.

My father demanded I publicly bless Evan and Ariane's new relationship to protect the family's reputation.

To make matters worse, he went on live television to announce he was handing over my mother's legacy—the sportswear company I had built from scratch—to Ariane.

They treated my three-year relationship and my life's work like disposable trash, expecting me to quietly disappear while they celebrated their stolen happiness.

They thought I would just cry and accept my fate as a stepping stone for my stepsister.

But I ripped the IV needle from my arm and walked right out of that hospital room.

I publicly dumped my cheating fiancé in the hallway, leaving him utterly humiliated.

Then, I picked up the phone and called my lawyer.

I am taking back control of my company, and I will make them pay back every single thing they stole, with interest.