41. Alex

The next day,I pace the floor of my office, my mind racing. Emma's sudden termination consumes my thoughts, an injustice I can't shake. How could they fire her over those photos? She did nothing wrong. My perfectionist nature won't let this stand—I need to get to the bottom of this.

I pick up my phone and call Natalie, our team's tech whiz. "Hey Nat, it's Alex. I need a favor—can you meet me in 15? It's urgent." My commanding tone leaves no room for debate.

"Of course, I'll be right there," she replies, curiosity piqued. "Everything okay?"

"I'll explain when you get here. And Nat, this needs to stay between us for now, got it?"

"Understood. See you soon." The line clicks off.

I resume my pacing, my mind whirring. Who would want to hurt Emma like this? My protective instincts surge.

When I find out who's responsible, there will be hell to pay.

No one messes with our girl.

A knock sounds, and Natalie pokes her head in. "Hey Alex, what's going on?" Her brows furrow at my tense demeanor.

I gesture for her to close the door. "I'm not sure if you heard about this, but someone leaked photos of Emma, Ryan, and Lukas together to the paparazzi. Then her asshole manager fired her over it, blaming Emma for bringing negative attention to the team. I need you to trace the source of that leak."

Natalie's eyes widen. "Oh wow, that's awful. Of course, I'm on it. I'll need access to the photos to examine the metadata."

I nod curtly. "I'll send them right over. This needs to be airtight, Nat. We're going to nail whoever did this to Emma and make them pay."

A determined glint enters Natalie's eyes. "Consider it done. I'll update you as soon as I have something concrete. They messed with the wrong team."

"Damn right, they did." I clench my fists. "Thanks, Nat, I owe you one. Keep me posted."

As she leaves, I sag against my desk, anger and worry swirling inside me. I have to be strong for Emma, but seeing her so distraught kills me.

I pull up her contact, hitting call.

"Alex?" Her trembling voice fills my ear. "Any news?"

"Working on it, angel," I soothe. "Natalie's on the case. We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise. No one hurts my girl and gets away with it."

Hours blur together as I bury myself in game tapes, trying to distract from the excruciating wait. Natalie's a genius, but digital forensics takes time. With each passing minute, my knee bounces faster, jaw clenched tight enough to crack molars.

A knock startles me from my brooding. Natalie slips inside, a triumphant glint in her eyes that gets my blood pounding.

"Tell me you found the bastard." I sit up straighter, laser-focused.

She grins. "Even better. I found the bitch." Sliding a folder across my desk, she taps the damning evidence. "Alison's the leak. These IP logs prove it."

White hot rage boils through my veins as I process her words.

Alison.

That conniving, heartless fucking snake.

She's had it out from Emma from the beginning for absolutely no reason. Knowing what I know now, I'd even bet that she was the one who defaced Emma's cubicle.

I snatch up Natalie's report, scanning the technical jargon. It's all there in black and white—irrefutable proof of Alison's treachery. My mind races with the implications.

"This is huge, Nat." I meet her steady gaze, rage coursing through me. "You may have just saved Emma's career. I can't thank you enough."

She waves off my praise with a smirk. "I live for these juicy takedowns. Alison picked the wrong person to screw with."

Damn right, she did.

Nobodymesses with my family and gets away clean.

I'm on my feet in an instant, folder clutched tight. "I've gotta get this to Vincent ASAP. We need to make this right."

"Go get 'em, tiger." Natalie winks as I brush past. "Take that asshole down."

Stalking through the halls, I dial the cell number for Vincent, our general manager. He picks up on the first ring.

"Alex? What's going on?"

"I need a meeting. Now," I growl. "Someone has been fucking with our team, and I've got proof that you're gonna want to see."

"My office," he commands. "Ten minutes."

As I end the call, a cruel smile curves my lips. Alison better watch her back.

Alex Ivanov is coming for her.

I stride into Vincent's office like a man on a mission, Natalie's damning report practically smoking in my hands. The general manager looks up from his cluttered desk, steel gray eyes sharp beneath bushy brows.

Vincent Dale is an imposing figure, even seated—broad shoulders straining his tailored suit, the lines of his craggy face etched by decades in the league's trenches. His mere presence demands respect, a throwback to the old days when titans of the game called the shots.

"Alex," he greets me gruffly, motioning to the chair across from him. "I trust you have good reason for the urgency?"

"See for yourself, boss." I slap the folder down, photos and data spilling across the polished mahogany. "I'm sure you heard all about the paparazzi articles on Lukas Dvorak last week, the ones that implied he was having a threesome relationship with Ryan Thompson and our social media manager, Emma."

Vincent gives me an appraising look. "Yes, HR has been keeping me up-to-date on the situation. From my understanding, it's not just an implication—Lukas actually is in a relationship with Ryan and Emma, and a couple of others."

He stops and purses his lips, looking at me expectantly.

It's now or never, I guess. I take a fortifying breath. "That's right, sir. I'm also a part of the relationship, as is Slade Harrison."

Vincent nods slowly. "So what's your point? It sounds to me like the press correctly sussed out the relationship. When you called me, you said that someone was fucking with our team."

I point to the photos on his desk. "These pictures were taken at a secluded, out-of-the-way restaurant in Miami, where Lukas and Ryan are not even notable public figures. We have all been incredibly discreet with our relationship, because the number one thing to each of us is this team. Whoever took these photos followed these three with the purpose of leaking these photos and causing a scandal for the team."

Vincent interlaces his fingers on his desk, leaning in toward me. "That's a big accusation. You're saying that this was intentional? And you have proof of that?"

I nod, opening up the folder and pointing to Natalie's documents. "Natalie traced the leaked pics back to Alison Cartwright."

"The marketing manager and interim head of PR?" Vincent shakes his head, disbelief lacing his words. "Why on earth would she want to cause a problem that she'd then have to clean up?"

I scowl. "Sir, she hates Emma Collins. She has been antagonizing her since Emma started on the team at the beginning of the season. I think Emma has been trying to keep this from you but… she's Jack Collins's daughter."

Vincent sucks in a shocked breath. I know he was the GM during Jack's reign. He probably knew Emma as a little girl.

"Emma has been careful not to let anyone know who her father was," I continue as he processes. "She wanted to be a part of this team but was worried about accusations of nepotism. She wanted to prove herself on her own merits. But I think Alison has known the truth since day one. A few months ago, someone defaced Emma's cubicle with the words ‘nepo baby,' and while I don't have any proof on this allegation, I would place money that it was Alison."

Vincent leans forward, scanning the evidence with a deepening scowl. I watch as realization sets in, his weathered face reddening beneath his salt-and-pepper crew cut.

"Jesus…" He runs a hand over his mouth. "So you're saying Alison did all of this to sabotage Emma and have an excuse to fire her?"

"And she sullied the team in the process," I add grimly. "She tried to publicly humiliate one of our own. It's unforgivable."

Vincent looks ready to put his fist through the wall. I know the feeling.

His gaze snaps to mine, eyes blazing. "I want that traitor out of my organization. Today."

"Music to my ears." I can't keep the savage satisfaction from my voice. "But we need to make this right for Emma too. She deserves?—"

"Her job back, at bare minimum," Vincent cuts in. "Along with a formal apology. God, I can't believe Jack's daughter has been working here all season, and I didn't realize. I guess Emma's right in some respects; I absolutely would've given my old friend's kid some special treatment if I'd known. I owe it to him to look out for her."

Pride surges in my chest. This is why I've been ride-or-die Blizzards for life. Loyalty like this is rarer than a playoff shutout.

"I knew you'd have her back, boss," I say. "And I'm sure she'd be happy to have her social media job. But I also think you should know that Emma Collins has an incredible mind for strategy."

Vincent raises an eyebrow. "Oh? What are you suggesting, Alex?"

I lean forward eagerly. "Emma has been coming to practices and studying game tape obsessively. She's got insights into plays, matchups, tendencies—stuff that could give us a real edge. I think she could be an incredible asset to the video coaching staff."

"Hmmm." Vincent steeples his fingers, considering. "You know we don't have an assistant video coach position currently. Budget cuts last year."

"Then make one," I argue passionately. "This team is on the cusp of being truly elite. Emma could help get us there. And it would be a chance for her to really shine, outside of her family name."

Vincent nods slowly, wheels clearly turning. "Alright, let me think about it. But first, let me give HR a call about this Alison situation."

I clear out of Vincent's office, feeling relieved and energized. I'm thrilled that Emma is going to get the justice she deserves.

And I can't wait to watch that fucker Alison get the perp walk out of this place.

Naturally, I called the guys to come watch, too. And told them to bring popcorn.

Slade, Ryan, Lukas, and I all huddle at the entrance to the marketing department. We're like kids on Christmas morning, giddy with anticipation.

"Anyone see the bitch yet?" Lukas asks, craning his neck. We've been waiting for Alison to get back from lunch. Two burly security guards are waiting for her by her desk, along with Karen from HR.

Just then, Alison strolls in whistling, a smug smile on her lips. She doesn't notice us at first, just breezes right past in her pencil skirt and stilettos. Her face is buried in her phone as usual.

But she stops dead when she sees the grim-faced men in suits and Karen flanking her cubicle. Her head snaps up, and she pales visibly.

"What's going on?" she asks Karen, her voice quavering just a bit. Her gaze darts over to the security guards. "Who are you?"

Karen steps forward, her face stony. "Alison, please come with me. We need to have a discussion in HR."

Alison's eyes go wide with panic. "What? Why? I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Let's not do this here," Karen says firmly, gesturing toward the hallway. "If you'll follow me, please…"

But Alison plants her feet, folding her arms across her chest. "No. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on."

The security guards exchange a glance and step forward menacingly. Alison takes a step back, her heels clicking loudly on the linoleum.

"Ms. Cartwright, don't make this harder than it needs to be," one of the guards says gruffly. "Come with us quietly, or we'll be forced to remove you."

Alison's eyes dart wildly around the room, searching for an escape or an ally. But all she sees are the hostile stares of her coworkers. Many of them look downright gleeful at her predicament.

Her gaze finally lands on me and the guys, huddled by the entrance with glee. Her eyes narrow to slits.

"You," she hisses venomously at Lukas, jabbing a manicured finger at him. "I should have known you were behind this. You and your pack of horny dogs." She glares at Slade, Ryan, and me.

Lukas just smiles sweetly at her. "Behind what, Alison? We're just here to enjoy the show. I'm just a dumb jock, after all, right?"

Her face contorts with rage and humiliation. For a second, I think she might actually lunge at him. So I step forward instead.

My voice is calm but laced with steel as I address her. "Alison, you messed with the wrong person. We look out for our own around here. And Emma Collins is one of us, whether you like it or not."

Alison scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Please, that little nepo baby doesn't belong here, and you know it. I was doing you all a favor getting rid of her entitled ass."

"No, you were just jealous and petty," I retort, my fists clenching at my sides. "Emma has more brains and integrity in her pinky finger than you have in your whole body. And she's going to do great things for the Blizzards, with or without her family name."

"We'll just see about that," Alison sneers. "When I tell everyone how she's been whoring around with half the team, her reputation will be ruined for good," she finishes with a malicious smirk.

My blood boils at her words.

But before I can respond, Karen from HR steps forward, her voice deadly calm.

"You'll do no such thing, Alison. Because if you breathe one more word of your poisonous lies, the Blizzards will sue you into oblivion for defamation and breach of contract. We have all the evidence we need of your misconduct. You're finished here."

Alison's face drains of color. She looks like she might be sick. The fight seems to go out of her as the reality of the situation sinks in.

"You can't…I didn't…" she sputters weakly. But no one is buying it anymore.

"Time to go, Ms. Cartwright," the security guard says gruffly, taking her elbow and yanking her out the door.

Karen follows behind them, and gives a wink to me and the boys as she leaves. "Go get your girl, gentleman. Time to bring her back to the Blizzards."