Page 180 of Game Misconduct
Weatherby leans forward, his voice calm but deadly. “Mr. Ward, do you deny that is your voice on the recording?”
Dean’s jaw flexes. “It’s been taken out of context.”
“I think the context is clear,” I say, voice smooth as a scalpel. “You conspired with a player from another team to destabilize both our franchise and the reputation of one of our top athletes. You leaked confidential information to the press, and you did it without notifying counsel or the board.”
His eyes finally meet mine. “You knew about Boston. You should’ve told them first.”
“I did. And I handled it according to legal and internal compliance. What I didn’t do,” I say, voice rising, “was weaponize it for personal gain.”
He scoffs, low and bitter. “You’re acting like you didn’t sleep with him.”
More murmurs spread around the room.
I don’t flinch, but the jab hits. “My private life has nothing to do with this situation, Dean. You’re on trial for violating your fiduciary duty and exposing this organization to legal risk. So answer the board—or don’t. Either way, you’re done here.”
He looks at Weatherby. “So that’s it? I don’t get to explain?”
“Mr. Ward,” the chairman says evenly, “we’re not here to discuss your personal grievances. We’re here because you acted with gross misconduct and undermined the ethical integrity of this organization. This board operates on trust. And you shattered it.”
Dean glances around the room, but no one meets his eye.
He’s alone. And he knows it.
“So, that’s how it’s going to be, huh? You’re going to let this woman take down the team? Youneedme.”
Weatherby straightens his glasses, ignoring Dean’s outburst. “The bylaws are clear. Mr. Ward’s behavior constitutes gross misconduct. As chair, I motion for immediate termination of his employment. All in favor?”
Every hand but Dean’s goes up.
My stomach doesn’t lurch. My hands don’t shake. I am ice. Precision. Discipline.
But inside? I am fury restrained by protocol.
Weatherby nods. “Effective immediately, Mr. Ward, your badge is deactivated. Security will escort you out.”
Dean stands, fists clenched, and for a moment I see the real man beneath the polish.
Petty. Entitled. Mean.
“I hope he was worth it,” he spits. “Because this team? It’s not making the playoffs without him. And then you’re going to lose everything, Carrington.”
I meet his glare head-on. “This franchise has survived worse than your ego. I promise you, we will survive this.”
Continuing to hold Dean’s hateful glare, I address the large man standing at the door. “Please see that Mr. Ward leaves his computer and phone on his desk on his way out.”
Security steps in. He doesn’t fight it. Just throws me one last look before disappearing out the door.
The board turns to me like wolves circling the next course.
But I don't flinch.
I lift my chin, fold my hands, and brace for whatever comes next.
Let them come for me. I’ve already lost the only thing that mattered.
I’m back in the same seat a few hours later.
Different meeting, same battlefield. Only this time, I’m on the same side as the Vipers board as we face two Boston executives and their lawyer.
