Page 166 of Game Misconduct
He adjusts his glasses. Doesn’t smile.
“There are two matters on the table. Let’s begin with Ms. Carrington’s ownership review.”
My spine straightens, but I don’t move.
I don’t flinch.
I already know what they’re going to do.
“You’ll retain ownership of the Atlanta Vipers.”
A brief murmur rolls through the room.
“However,” he continues, “effective immediately, your voting share will be reduced by fifteen percent until the conclusion of the season. During that time, all roster decisions must be approved by the board, and you are to refrain from direct player contract negotiations or signings.”
Dean leans back in his chair, satisfied.
Like he didn’t just gut my power in front of everyone.
Like I didn’t fight tooth and nail to get here.
“We’ll revisit your full reinstatement in the off-season, pending performance and compliance.”
I nod once. No emotion. No blink.
If I show how badly that burns, I’ll unravel.
And if I unravel, I lose everything.
The chairman clears his throat.
“Now, regarding Mr. Lasker.”
Maddox doesn’t shift. Doesn’t breathe.
“There’s no evidence of a policy breach on your part outside of a personal relationship that has now, per your statement, ended.”
That word lodges in my chest.
Ended.
He said it. Out loud.
“Given your importance to team performance and current league standing,” Weatherby continues, “you will remain on the roster through the remainder of the season.”
Maddox’s jaw clenches.
“However, your contract will not be renewed. This decision is final.”
Dean jots something down like it’s just another box checked.
“And any off-ice promotion or franchise branding involving your image will cease immediately.”
Another cut. One I didn’t see coming.
I swallow hard, but it doesn’t go down.
“Is that clear?”
