Faking It With The Hockey Star

Harper’s POV

Twenty minutes.

That was all it took.

Twenty minutes after I clicked publish, my mom’s documentary was officially live on YouTube.

I stared at the bright screen of my laptop, my fingers hovering over the trackpad, almost scared to touch a single key.

23 views.

I clicked refresh.

27 views.

I clicked refresh again.

31 views.

A huge, uncontrollable smile spread across my face.

"Okay," I whispered to the empty room, my voice trembling with excitement. "Okay... people are actually clicking on it. They are actually watching."

It wasn’t millions. It wasn’t even thousands yet.

But it had only been twenty minutes.

I had spent the last two weeks hyping this project everywhere I could. Instagram, TikTok, X—one post after another. Teasers, behind-the-scenes clips, short quotes from my mom’s old letters. I had practically begged people to tune in when the link dropped.

So seeing those little view count numbers climb up step by step made my heart flutter with pure joy.

I clicked refresh again.

36 views.

"Oh my God," I laughed quietly.

I was so fixated on the numbers that I barely noticed Justin walking past the couch.

He stopped right beside me. He looked down at my laptop, then looked up at my face.

"Make sure you send me that link," he said.

I looked up at him suspiciously. "I will."

He turned and started walking toward the foyer. Then he stopped, turned right back around, and stared at me. "Seriously, Harper. Send me the link."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why are you being so persistent?"

"Because I want to watch it."

"Justin, you have watched basically every draft and edit of this documentary with me."

"I want to watch the final published one."

He turned back toward the front door. I watched his back with growing suspicion.

Suddenly, the wall intercom rang loudly. Justin walked over and pressed the main button. "Hello?"

"Mr. Justin, your food delivery is here," the doorman’s voice echoed through the speaker. "Please come down to the lobby to collect it."

"Okay. No problem, thank you."

He released the button and walked to the front door. He pulled it open, but just before stepping out into the hall, he turned around and looked directly at me one last time.

"Send me the link."

I stared at him, bewildered. "Oh, you are actually creepy right now."

He grinned. "Yep."

"I have no idea what you’re planning in that head of yours."

"All I’m going to say is... send me the link."

I rolled my eyes hard. "Okay, fine! Just go get the food!"

He finally stepped out and let the door shut.

The second he was gone, I grabbed my phone off the cushion. "Men," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.

I copied the YouTube link and opened Instagram.

Thankfully, I was prepared. The promotional images were saved in my drafts, the short video clips were edited, and the captions were completely typed out. I had spent half my life preparing to tell this story.

I uploaded the very first post: THE VIDEO JUST DROPPED! 🎥❤️

I attached the link, shared it to my story, and posted a follow-up snippet. Then another. I switched over to TikTok and posted. I opened X and posted. I jumped back to Instagram to reply to comments.

I messaged the link directly to a few friends who had asked for it.

Then, finally, I copied the URL one last time and pasted it straight into Justin’s chat.

Me: There. Happy now?

I had barely set my phone down when the front door unlocked. Justin walked back inside holding the paper delivery bags.

He set the food down on the dining table, then looked straight over at me. "I got it."

I blinked. "Already?"

He nodded. "Thank you."

I stared at him, my gut twisting. "Justin, what are you actually planning to do with it?"

"Nothing."

"Justin."

"Don’t worry about it." He pointed toward the steaming bags on the table. "Sit down. Come see what I ordered for us."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out onto the balcony, sliding the glass door shut behind him.

I watched him through the glass. There was something off about his movement. I knew him too well. Something was happening.

I saw him lift his phone to his ear.

I waited three seconds, then quietly pushed myself up off the couch. I tiptoed across the floor toward the balcony. I wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that I was snooping anymore. I needed to know.

I stopped just inside the shadow of the doorway.

"Yes," I heard Justin say into his phone, his voice firm and cold. "I just sent you the link."

My stomach tightened.

" I sent the link," he repeated.

I pressed closer to the frame. Justin was leaning against the stone railing, looking out over the city lights.

"You know what to do," he said into the mic.

My heart started to thump heavily against my ribs.

"I already told you the plan," Justin continued. "Put it on every single platform possible. Run the paid ads immediately."

A cold chill ran straight down my spine.

"Make sure it reaches every continent," Justin commanded. "I don’t care how much the ad spend costs. TikTok, Facebook, Instagram, X... everywhere. Make sure those ads go viral. I don’t want this video just sitting there waiting for random people to find it. Push it hard."

I didn’t wait to hear another word.

I backed away silently and hurried back to the couch, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold my phone.

Oh God. No.

No, no, no, no.

The second those global ads started running, there was no way my mom’s story stayed inside the safe little bubble I had built for it. It was going everywhere.

And eventually... they would see it.

My father’s family would see it.

Someone in their circle would recognize the names. Someone would connect the dots. Someone would send the link straight to him.

And once he saw it... I had no idea what he would do to us.