All Chapters of The Hockey Captain’s Fake Girlfriend : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

IsabellaThe statement was worse in full than the headline suggested. Isabella read it twice over Beckett’s shoulder, the too-formal language doing nothing to soften the accusation underneath it that Luca had committed unprovoked assault, that Ashford intended to pursue a full disciplinary hearing, that they were “confident the conference will act decisively to protect student-athlete safety.”Not one word about Dominic Hale’s stick connecting with Marco’s knee three times in one period. Not one word about Coach Holloway.“They’re moving first,” Luca said, jaw tight, staring at the screen like he could set it on fire through sheer will. “Before we can even get the interview out. If the disciplinary hearing gets scheduled before the truth about Holloway is public, it doesn’t matter what evidence Marco has the conference will see a formal complaint from Ashford and an unverified rumor from us.”“Then we don’t let it get scheduled first.” Isabella’s mind was already racing three steps ah

IsabellaThe red light blinked on, and there was no time left to call anyone back.Isabella watched from just off camera, close enough to catch Luca’s eye if he needed her, close enough to see the exact second his shoulders squared themselves into the posture she was starting to recognize as captain mode the same stillness he probably wore stepping onto the ice before a championship game.“Thank you for joining us,” the interviewer said, a calm, practiced woman named Renata Cole whom Suarez had vouched for personally. “Luca, there’s a lot the public doesn’t know about the incident that made you a national headline. Tonight, you and Marco Ibarra are here to change that. Where do you want to start?”Luca didn’t hesitate. “With an apology. Not for the check I’d make that decision again tomorrow. But for staying silent for as long as I did, because my silence let people believe the worst about a teammate who’d already been hurt enough.”Beside him, Marco’s hands were white-knuckled in his

IsabellaThe clip was thirty-one seconds long, and it was good good enough that Isabella’s stomach dropped even knowing, with absolute certainty, that it was a lie.It showed Marco and Luca in what looked like a hallway, heads bent together, Marco’s mouth moving in a clip so tightly edited it was impossible to hear full sentences just fragments, stitched together with a chyron underneath: ”…if we just say he threatened me… nobody will check…” The audio was Marco’s voice. Isabella was almost sure of that. Just not Marco’s words, not in that order, not meaning what the caption implied they meant.“That’s from weeks ago,” Marco said, voice climbing toward panic again. “That’s I remember that conversation, Luca, that was the day you told me it wasn’t my fault, and I said something about how nobody would believe me if I said what actually happened, and they cut it, they cut the middle out and stitched two different sentences together”“I know,” Luca said, low and controlled, one hand comin

IsabellaSuarez lowered the phone slowly, and the pause before she spoke stretched long enough that Isabella felt Luca’s grip on her hand tighten.“The conference has suspended Dominic Hale for the remainder of the season, pending a full investigation into Coach Holloway’s conduct,” Suarez said. “Holloway’s been placed on administrative leave, effective immediately, and Ashford’s athletic director has issued a formal retraction of tonight’s video and their disciplinary request.” A breath. “Luca, you’re fully cleared. No suspension, no hearing. Your record stands clean.”The room seemed to collectively remember how to breathe. Beckett let out a whoop loud enough to startle the production crew still packing up equipment nearby, and Marco steady Marco, who’d spent the entire night trembling put his face in his hands and cried, quiet and overwhelmed, relief finally breaking through months of fear.Luca didn’t move for a second, like the news needed time to land somewhere real. Then he tur

LucaIsabella didn’t check her phone again until they were sitting on the tailgate of Beckett’s truck outside Levi’s Diner, milkshakes forgotten and melting between them, the adrenaline of the night finally starting to ebb into something closer to bone-deep exhaustion.“You’re quiet,” Luca said, nudging her shoulder with his. “That’s new for you.”“I’m processing.” She turned her phone over in her hands without unlocking it. “Twelve hours ago I was grading Gatsby essays. Now I’m apparently in a real relationship, defending a hardship fund, and somehow the most normal part of my night was finding out my fake boyfriend’s rival has a conscience.”“When you put it like that, it does sound like a lot.”“It’s a lot.” But she was smiling when she said it, small and disbelieving, and Luca found himself watching the curve of her mouth instead of the diner lights reflecting off the truck’s windshield. “I keep waiting to feel regret. About tonight. About saying what I said on camera. It hasn’t c