Page 181 of Game Misconduct
There’s also a league lawyer and a couple of assistants trying to look useful while pretending not to eavesdrop.
Dean’s chair is empty.
On purpose.
“Let the record reflect that Dean Ward has been relieved of his duties effective immediately,” Chairman Weatherby says, voice like gravel.
Boston’s legal rep—a trim man with wire-rimmed glasses and a permanent scowl—doesn’t even nod. “We appreciate the prompt action. That said, the leak still occurred. And the resulting fallout has damaged the reputation of not only Mr. Leonard, but the Boston Freeze organization.”
Joshua’s name lands like a weight on the table. I glance to anempty seat next to the executives. The seat Joshua should be occupying.
Typical. Cowards never show up when it’s time to face consequences.
“Our concern,” the second Boston exec adds, “is less about the contents of the leak and more about how it originated. If internal Vipers personnel were actively conspiring with a player from our roster to?—”
“That individual has been terminated,” I cut in, voice sharp. “Dean Ward acted alone and against direct policy. I’ve already made that clear.”
“Be that as it may,” Boston’s lawyer says, “Mr. Leonard’s involvement still raises questions.”
I lean forward, palms flat on the table. “Then perhaps you should ask yourselves why Mr. Leonard is still skating on your top line instead of being suspended pending review. Because what’s not going to happen here is Boston trying to pin its internal rot on my franchise.”
The man’s mouth tightens. “With respect, Ms. Carrington?—”
“No,” I interrupt, cool and exact. “With respect, you’re here pointing fingers while your player openly conspired to take out a member of my roster and destabilize my leadership. You want transparency? Try accountability first.”
Murmurs ripple around the table.
Miriam—one of the older holdouts from my father’s era—gives me a rare approving glance.
“You want assurances? Start with your own house. My franchise took action. Yours rewarded the leak with first-line minutes.”
Boston’s lawyer nervously clears his throat. “The league would prefer to avoid public litigation against the Vipers. However, we’re asking for assurances that internal leaks won’t happen again. Your franchise isn’t in a position to withstand another scandal.”
That part’s aimed at me.
I nod once. “Understood. We’ve already tightened our internal security protocols. Perhaps the Freeze should do the same. You’ll receive our written agreement by end of day. Assuming all parties are satisfied, I believe we can call this closed.”
Boston’s execs gather their notes and leave without another word.
When the door shuts behind them, the silence is thick.
Chairman Weatherby rubs a hand down his jaw. “You handled that well, Ms. Carrington. Your father would be proud.”
The mention of my father is like a sucker punch to the gut.
It’s the first time anyone in his circle has given me any credit.
It feels like a victory. Or, at least, it should.
But it tastes like ash.
Because it doesn’t matter.
I still have my team, but it doesn’t mean anything without Maddox.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Maddox
