Page 103 of Captain's Claim

Greg and Big Mike exchange a glance that makes my blood boil even hotter.

Greg clears his throat, adjusting his tie. "You should be flattered. Women kill for opportunities like this." He gestures toward the NHL executives. "You heard us mention the Chanel thing, right?"

Something snaps inside me.

All those months of work,yearsof work to get here, all those strategies and plans, reduced to this - to being nothing more than arm candy for their golden boy.

My fingers find my ID badge, unclipping it as I shake my head.

"Find another pretty face." I straighten my spine, meeting every shocked look around the table. "I quit."

Chapter Twenty-Four

Blake

Islouch in my favorite leather chair, half-listening to the sports highlights droning on the massive screen.

Connor and Logan argue about last night's Bruins game while Ryder demolishes his third protein bar. Coach Brody scribbles plays on his clipboard while picking up his phone every now and then, smiling as her taps away on his screen.

The ESPN logo flashes on the TV, and suddenly her face fills the screen.

Sophia.

My spine straightens.

She’sglowingin the picture - taken at one of our recent press events, smiling in that way she does when she’s being polite but calculating her next move. She looks sharp, professional, confident in my favorite black powersuit.

And then I hear the fucking words.

"Sophia Hart - the name on everyone lips. Was she ever actually talented, or did she just sleep her way into the industry?"

The roomshifts.

Connor sits up straight. Logan stops mid-conversation. The banter dies a sharp, ugly death as we all turn toward the screen.

The anchor's voice drips with fake concern.

"Sources close to the situation suggest Ms. Hart's relationship with team captain Blake Maddox may have influenced her rapid rise within the organization."

"Was she ever actually talented, or did she just sleep her way into the industry?" A female panelist sneers. "The numbers don't lie - their social media engagement skyrocketed after that skating video went viral."

The lounge falls silent. My knuckles whiten around the armrests.

Another panelist - some smug asshole in a navy suit - leans forward with a smirk.

"Look, I’m just saying, she goes from an assistant to running the Icehawks’ entire brand in what… a few months? Come on. Women in sports know how to work the room. Especially with the men in charge."

Every muscle in my bodylocks up.

"Fuck this." Logan hurls his water bottle across the room. "They can't just-"

"Turn it off," Coach Brody barks, but I barely hear him through the roaring in my ears.

My vision tunnels in on that screen, on the words crawling across the ticker at the bottom in bold white letters:

SOPHIA HART: REAL TALENT OR JUST BLAKE MADDOX'S GIRLFRIEND?

Someone from her old job comes on next. A smarmy-looking prick in an overpriced suit, shaking his head like he’s about to drop some insider wisdom.

---