Page 93 of Unleashed

These were the stories that mattered. The ones that showed what hockey could be when you stripped away the pressure for views and ratings.

“You want access to my players?” Trasier’s voice carried into the hall. “After what you did to Vignier?”

My jaw clenched. Yeah, she’d hurt me. Had taken my trust and turned it into prime-time entertainment. But she’d also shown me something I hadn’t been ready to see—that my legacy wasn’t measured in Cup rings or scoring titles, but in the lives I’d touched. The players I’d mentored. The game I’d helped shape.

Now it was my turn to show what I’d learned about trust. About second chances.

Before I could overthink it, I reached for the door handle. Time to put my money where my mouth was. To prove I’d learned something about trust and forgiveness since hanging up my skates.

Time to show Lily that second chances went both ways.

“You want to know who she really is?” My voice cut through the bullshit like a fresh-sharpened blade through ice. “Then let me tell you.”

The conference room fell silent the instant I stepped inside. Every eye locked on me, but I focused on Malone’s face—on how his practiced smile slipped just a fraction. Good. Let him sweat.

“Jack.” Jasper’s voice carried that particular weight of old money and influence. “I wasn’t aware you had input on this matter.”

“With respect,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through my veins, “I’m the one whose career was supposedly sacrificed for ratings. Think that gives me authority.”

Through my peripheral vision, I caught Lily’s sharp inhale. The slight tremor in her hands. But I kept my attention on Jasper and Trasier—on the men whose opinions actually carried weight in this room.

“You want to talk about the episodes that aired?” I gestured to where Malone sat. “Let’s talk about the pressure you put on her. About how you demanded controversy, demanded drama, used her desperation to get back into the industry to force her hand.”

“Now wait a minute—” Malone started, but Millsy cut him off.

“Actually,” she said, tapping her bejeweled tablet, “let’s talk numbers. The tribute episode hit Stanley Cup Final viewing levels.” Her smile carried sharp edges. “Seems the league owners are quite interested in that kind of engagement. Authentic storytelling that connects with viewers? That’s worth more than manufactured drama.”

“The ratings aren’t the point,” I said, my voice carrying the same authority I’d used to quiet a locker room. “What matters is she chose to tell the truth. To show what hockey really means—not just the highlights or the controversies, but the heart of the game. She risked everything to get that right.”

“And got better results,” Millsy added, her smile widening as Malone shifted uncomfortably. “Funny how that works.”

Trasier’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying you support giving her access to our players? After what happened in Austin?”

“I’m saying she’s the only one in this room I’d trust to tell their stories right.” The words came fierce, certain. “She sees beyond the highlights. Beyond the stats. She shows the heart of the game—the kid staying late to work on his edges, the veteran teaching face-off tricks, the pure joy of improvement.”

I gestured to the youth footage still playing behind her. “Look at what she’s built here. Real stories about real players. No manipulation. No manufactured drama. Just honest moments that remind us why we fell in love with this sport in the first place.”

Lily’s eyes met mine for a split second, something raw and vulnerable in their depths before she looked away. But I wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

“You want to know who she really is?” I turned to face Jasper directly. “She’s someone who walked away from Hollywood success because she wouldn’t compromise her integrity. Who chose to tell authentic stories even knowing what it would cost her.” My voice dropped low, intense. “The kind of person you want shaping how the world sees your players.”

Silence stretched through the room. Heavy. Charged.

Then Jasper smiled—just a slight curve of his lips, but I’d spent enough time in hockey to recognize a win when I saw one. “Well said, Mr. Vignier.” He turned that sharp gaze to Lily. “I believe we have some details to discuss.”

“Now hold on—” Malone pushed away from the window, but Millsy cut him off.

“And I believe we’re done here, Mark.” Her designer heels clicked against the floor as she opened the door. “I’ll have my assistant show you out.”

I caught Lily’s eye as Malone slithered past, letting her see the truth in my face. The trust. The respect. Everything I hadn’t been ready to show in Austin. Everything I’d denied until her video cracked me wide open.

Her lips trembled, but she gave me a slight nod. Understanding passed between us without words.

We had more to discuss. More to resolve. But for now, this was enough. I nodded to the others, then headed to my office.

My phone buzzed before I’d made it halfway down the hall. Dad’s name lit up the screen. For the first time in months, I didn’t hesitate to answer.

“You got a minute, son?”

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