Page 91 of Captain's Claim

I nod and shuffle my papers, even though I don’t need them. The numbers are seared into my brain.

“Engagement is up fifty percent across all social media. The biggest video is still the one of Blake teaching skating basics…” I clear my throat. “To me. It now has over two million views.”

Greg chokes on his muffin. “Two million? That’s insane.”

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “This is what I've been saying from the start. Fans love seeing behind-the-scenes content. They feel more connected to the team.”

Big Mike leans back in his chair, clearly pleased. “And what about merchandise sales?”

“Up thirty percent since we started featuring Blake more prominently,” I reply, conveniently skipping over the part whereI'mpart of that very significant 'boost'. “The new line of jerseys with his number sold out within hours.”

“Excellent,” Big Mike says, nodding approvingly. “This is exactly what we needed.”

I glance at Blake's empty chair again and feel a pang of something... not quite guilt, but close. He hates being in the spotlight this much, but he’s done it for me. For us.

Greg clears his throat. “And what about the upcoming charity event? Any updates?”

“Yes,” I say, flipping to another page in my notes. “We’ve secured several high-profile sponsors and local businesses are eager to participate. We’re expecting a significant turnout.”

“Good work,” Big Mike says, looking genuinely impressed.

Greg's grin spreads wider than I've ever seen it, like he just hit the jackpot in Vegas. "Sophia, just keep doing what you're doing. Loving your work, well done."

I shift in my seat, suddenly too aware of the board’s expectant eyes on me.

Big Mike smiles in my direction, but somehow, all this praise, all the career cookies I'm getting doesn't feel as good as it should.

"The engagement is off the charts," Big Mike agrees. "Ticket sales are at an all-time high. The 'Blake Maddox Effect' is officially a phenomenon."

My brow furrows. "The... what?"

Big Mike's deep chuckle fills the boardroom. "You. Him. The fans are eating it up. The interviews, the behind-the-scenes shots, the glimpses of the two of you? Hell, it's like a damn reality show, and the world is obsessed."

I swallow hard. "Right. But... that's not what I came here to do. I came here to build the brand, to—"

Greg waves his hand dismissively, muffin crumbs scattering across the polished table. "And youare. By being a part of the brand. Just keep going. Whatever you're doing with Maddox? Keep doing it."

Big Mike winks at me. Actuallywinks.

"Perhaps just leave out thefinerdetails, though," he says.

A fresh wave of nausea rolls through me.

I force my lips into what Ihopepasses for a smile, but the knot in my stomach tightens as I stare at my reflection in the glossy conference table.

That's not what this is. Right?

This should feel like a win.

So why does it feel like I’ve just lost control of the narrative? The one that I decided.

I glance at Blake’s empty chair again, but this time it doesn’t make me smile.

This was my plan. To use our chemistry to distract the board, to shift the conversation, to get them off Blake’s back and away from the youth program.

But now?

Now we’re the conversation. NowI’mpart of the brand.

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