My television screen flashed red with breaking news alerts.

"NHL Championship in jeopardy. Cole Maddox tests positive for banned substances."

My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. Marcus’s name lit up the screen. I snatched it up.

"What is going on?" I demanded.

"We have a problem, Emma," Marcus replied, his voice clipped and cold. "The league found an irregularity in Cole’s finals drug panel. They traced the source."

"Traced it to what?"

"A batch of unregistered supplements. They entered the team’s medical room last month."

My stomach churned. "I don't handle his medical clearance. The trainers do."

"The purchase orders were authorized under your employee account."

"That's impossible." I gripped the edge of the marble counter. "I never bought anything off-book. Let me log into the system. I can pull the IP addresses and prove it wasn't me."

I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder, flipping open my laptop. I typed in my credentials.

*Error: User Not Found.*

"Your access was revoked yesterday," Marcus stated. "You’re locked out."

"You framed me."

"Sienna’s father is the primary sponsor for the franchise. He threatened to pull fifty million dollars in funding if the team takes the fall."

"So you need a scapegoat."

"We need someone expendable."

"I gave this team five years of my life. You know I would never risk Cole's health."

"Your loyalty is irrelevant," Marcus countered. "The league demands blood. You are no longer an employee. You have no union protection. It’s the cleanest way out."

"I'll go to the press. I'll tell them everything."

"You have no proof," Marcus said. "We have the purchase orders with your digital signature. Stand down, Emma."

The line went dead.

I stared at the blank laptop screen. They were going to ruin me. Not just my reputation, but my entire career in sports management.

Two days later, I sat in the sterile conference room of the NHL disciplinary committee.

Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The team lawyers flanked the long oak table. Cole sat directly across from me, wearing a sharp charcoal suit. He kept his eyes locked on the polished wood in front of him.

"Mr. Maddox," the lead investigator began, sliding a printed document across the table. "Can you confirm how these specific supplements entered your daily regimen?"

I stared at Cole. *Tell the truth. For once in your life, be a man.*

Cole picked up a silver pen. His knuckles turned white. He hesitated, the tip of the pen hovering above the signature line.

"Cole," I said, my voice cutting through the silent room. "Don't do this."

A team lawyer shot me a warning glare. "Miss Hayes, you will wait your turn to speak."

I ignored the suit. "You know exactly what happened, Cole. Tell them."

Cole finally lifted his head. His expression was completely blank. The charming, loving man I spent half a decade with was entirely gone.

"My assistant handled my supplements," Cole said, his tone flat. "I trusted her."

He signed the paper and pushed it back.

The room erupted into quiet murmurs. The investigator stamped the file.

"Emma Hayes, based on the sworn testimony of the player and the digital evidence provided by the franchise, your league credentials are suspended indefinitely."

I didn't blink. I didn't cry. The betrayal cut so deep it severed whatever remaining attachment I had to the man sitting across from me.

"You're making a mistake," I told the committee.

"The hearing is adjourned," the investigator announced.

The lawyers stood up, packing their briefcases. Cole stood quickly, adjusting his tie. He turned his back to me and headed for the side exit.

I pushed my chair back and marched out into the main corridor. I waited by the heavy glass doors leading to the player parking garage.

Five minutes later, Cole emerged. He walked fast, flanked by two security guards.

I stepped directly into his path.

"Move, Emma," he muttered.

"Look at me."

He stopped. The guards shifted, but Cole waved them off. He finally raised his head. Guilt flashed in his eyes, quick and cowardly.

"You know I didn’t do it," I said, keeping my voice dangerously low. "Why did you sign?"

"Sienna's dad gave the front office an ultimatum."

"I don't care about her dad. I asked why *you* signed it."

Cole shoved his hands into his pockets. He shifted his weight, refusing to hold my gaze for more than a second.

"If I go down, everything we built for seven years disappears."

The sheer audacity of his words hung in the air. Seven years. He counted the two years in the minors, the late nights studying film, the meals I prepped, the schedules I managed. He claimed the success as a joint venture, only to sacrifice me to protect his own skin.

"It's just a suspension, Emma," Cole offered, his tone softening into something pathetic. "You can work in PR. I'll fund a startup for you. I'll make sure you're taken care of."

"You think money fixes this?"

"I had to protect the championship."

"You protected yourself."

"I protected our legacy!" he argued, finally raising his voice.

"No, Cole," I replied, my tone entirely devoid of warmth.

He frowned, stepping closer. "Emma—"

"Everything I built for you disappears."

I didn't wait for his response. I turned and walked toward the exit, my spine straight.

The lobby was swarming with press. The moment I pushed through the revolving doors, a barrage of microphones assaulted me.

"Emma! Did you dope him to secure the championship?"

"Were you trying to force him to marry you?"

"Do you have a comment on your suspension?"

I ignored them. I shoved my way through the throng of reporters, keeping my gaze fixed on the street. A camera lens smacked my shoulder. A microphone cord tangled around my wrist.

I ripped my arm free and hailed a cab. I climbed into the back seat and slammed the door shut.

"Just drive," I told the driver.

The cab merged into traffic, leaving the arena and the media circus behind.

My phone vibrated endlessly in my lap. Hate mail. Death threats from rabid fans. Articles calling me a desperate, cheating ex-employee who tried to buy a ring with illegal drugs.

I opened Twitter. My name was the number one trend globally.

*#EmmaHayesCheater*

*#SuspendHerForLife*

I prepared to turn the phone off. Then, a new notification popped up. It wasn't a threat. It was a tag from a verified account.

I tapped the screen.

Liam Carter.

The captain of the rival team. The league's biggest superstar. Cole’s absolute worst enemy on and off the ice.

Liam had just posted a single message to his five million followers.

*Emma Hayes didn’t dope Cole Maddox. And I can prove it.*

I stared at the glowing screen, my heart slamming against my ribs. The post already had fifty thousand likes. It was climbing by the second.

My phone buzzed again. An incoming call.

The caller ID displayed the same unknown number from the night at the hotel.

I pressed answer and brought the phone to my ear.

"Did you see my post?" Liam's voice rumbled through the speaker, deep and laced with amusement.

"What are you playing at, Carter?" I asked.

"I told you I could help you destroy him. Are you ready to meet?"

"Why do you care what happens to me?"

"I don't," Liam stated. "I care about tearing Cole Maddox off his fake pedestal. You hold the hammer, Emma. I just have the nails."

"Where are you?"

"Check your messages. I sent an address."

"I'm suspended. Radioactive. Nobody in this city will touch me right now."

"Good thing I don't play by their rules," Liam replied. "Ten minutes. Don't be late."

The line clicked off.

I lowered the phone. A fierce, burning resolve replaced the hollow ache in my chest. Cole thought he could erase me. He thought he could bury me under his lies and walk away clean.

He was wrong.

I leaned forward and tapped the plastic divider.

"Change of plans," I told the driver. "Take me to the west side."