Chapter 2: The Ultimatum

"A full-season suspension?" Terry’s voice dropped, terrifyingly quiet. The room went dead silent.

"They’re calling it a violent breach of league conduct," Marcus stammered, holding up his phone like it was a live grenade. On the screen, a blurry video was playing on loop. It showed Terry in the arena hallway after last night’s game, grabbing a rival player by the jersey and slamming him into the concrete wall.

Eve didn’t flinch. She leaned over Marcus’s shoulder, her eyes tracking the viral view count spinning upward. "Three million views in twenty minutes. The comment section is calling you a violent thug, Terry. The league sponsors are already panicking."

Terry ripped the tape off his bloody knuckles, throwing it into the trash. "He insulted my team. I’m the captain. I handle it."

"You handle things like a caveman," Eve shot back, tapping her tablet. "And right now, your caveman instincts are going to cost this franchise a sixty-million-dollar playoff run."

Before Terry could lung across the desk at her, the phone on the coach's desk rang. The caller ID flashed Vance Brooks.

Eve froze. Her stomach dropped into a cold, hard knot.

Her father. The billionaire owner of the Boston Blizzard, and the man who currently held the purse strings to her entire life.

Marcus answered it on speaker with a trembling hand. "Sir?"

"Get Wilde in my office. Now," her father’s booming voice echoed through the room. "And Eve? You come too."

The line went dead.

Terry let out a harsh breath, grabbing a clean team hoodie and shoving his massive arms through it. He didn’t look at Eve as he brushed past her, but his shoulder caught hers, a deliberate, heavy nudge meant to show his dominance.

Eve swallowed the lump in her throat and followed him up to the executive suite.

Ten minutes later, they were standing in front of Vance Brooks's massive mahogany desk. Her father looked every bit the ruthless billionaire he was—impeccably tailored suit, silver hair, and eyes like ice.

"The league is ready to bench you for the season, Terry," Vance began, slamming a printed sheet of sponsor complaints onto the desk. "The only reason you aren’t suspended right now is because I’m pulling every favor I owe. But the board wants blood. They want to strip your captaincy."

Terry’s jaw clenched so tight a vein throbbed in his temple. "Sir—"

"Shut up and listen," Vance snapped. "We have one shot to fix this. The league will drop the suspension if we can prove this was an isolated incident. They want a total image rehabilitation. They want to see that the 'Blizzard Beast' is settling down. No more bars, no more late-night fights, no more bachelor lifestyle."

Vance turned his sharp gaze to his daughter. "And that brings me to you, Eve."

Eve blinked, a sudden wave of anxiety washing over her. "Me? What do my analytics have to do with his PR?"

"Nothing," Vance said coldly. "But your trust fund does. I received the guest list for the Heritage Gala next month. Your name is on it. Alone."

Eve felt the air leave her lungs. She knew exactly where this was going. Her traditional, ultra-conservative family had been breathing down her neck for a year to find a "respectable man" and settle down. They hated that she was independent, and they absolutely refused to accept that she loved women.

"You promised me if I took this job, you'd leave my personal life alone," Eve said, her voice shaking slightly despite her best efforts.

"I promised to fund your analytics department if you proved you could be a proper member of this family," Vance corrected ruthlessly. "If you don't show up to that gala with a reputable, high-profile partner—someone who proves you’re ready to fall in line—I am pulling the funding for your entire department. Effective tomorrow. You'll be out of a job, and out of the family contract."

Eve felt like she’d been hit by a hockey puck at ninety miles an hour. If her father cut her off, her career was dead before it even started.

"Wait a minute," Terry interrupted, his grey eyes darting between Eve and her father, picking up on the sudden, thick tension. "What the hell does her dating life have to do with my suspension?"

Vance Brooks smiled, a terrifyingly corporate, calculated smirk.

"Everything. Because as of today, the two of you are madly in love."