"Dr. Chandler had a personal relationship with me," Declan continues, speaking over the noise. "Gregory viewed thatrelationship as a threat to his influence. When I refused to end it, he targeted her professionally. He filed a false ethics complaint, fabricated evidence. He leaked that video to destroy her credibility and force me back under his control."
His green eyes find the camera. For a moment, it feels like he's looking directly at me.
"Dr. Chandler deserves a public apology from Gregory Stallworth and anyone who questioned her integrity. From me, for being the reason she was targeted in the first place." His voice roughens with emotion. "She is a brilliant researcher who was doing important work that could save lives. That work was destroyed because of my association with her."
He pulls out another document.
"I'm also releasing evidence that my relationship with Evangeline Ashford, daughter of Senator Richard Ashford, was arranged without our genuine consent. Gregory orchestrated a series of public appearances designed to create the impression of a romantic relationship for political and publicity purposes. Neither Miss Ashford nor I agreed to this arrangement."
The camera pans. Platinum blonde Evangeline, who is in an impeccable navy suit, stands and approaches the podium. She’s still maintaining that polished beauty that comes from expensive stylists and generational wealth. But her blue eyes are steely with determination.
"My name is Evangeline Ashford," she says, voice clear and controlled. "Everything Mr. Hawthorne said is accurate. Mr. Stallworth arranged those appearances without consulting either of us beyond demanding our compliance. We were manipulated into a relationship neither of us wanted for the sake of publicity and political leverage."
She glances at Declan, something like solidarity passing between them.
"I'm making this statement today because I refuse to participate in these manipulations any longer. I'm also prepared to testify regarding Mr. Stallworth's illegal activities, including his fabrication of evidence against Dr. Chandler and his threats against Mr. Hawthorne's career and finances."
The press conference dissolves into chaos. Reporters shout questions. Cameras flash. Patricia steps to the microphone, her expression grim.
"We'll take limited questions"
"Mr. Hawthorne!" A reporter's voice cuts through. "Are you concerned about legal retaliation from Mr. Stallworth?"
Declan leans back toward the microphone.
"Gregory filed a lawsuit against me this morning. Fifteen million in damages, claiming I breached our contract and engaged in financial fraud against him." A bitter smile touches his lips. "He's attempting to control the narrative by accusing me of the crimes he committed. I expect he'll escalate further. I don't care. The truth matters more than protecting myself."
"What about your career?" another reporter shouts. "The league could suspend you!"
"They already have." Declan's voice is flat. "I received notification an hour ago. I'm suspended pending investigation into these allegations. My season is over. Possibly my career."
The room goes silent.
"I'm doing this anyway because some things matter more than hockey," he continues quietly. "Truth matters. Justice for people who've been hurt matters. Dr. Chandler's reputation matters."
His lawyer tries to pull him back from the microphone, but he resists for one more moment.
"That's all I have to say. Thank you."
He steps away from the podium. The lawyer attempts to field questions, but Declan is already walking toward the exit, security forming around him.
The footage cuts to reporters in the studio discussing what just happened. I can't hear them over the roaring in my ears.
Sloane closes my laptop.
"Breathe," she commands, her hands gripping my shoulders hard enough to hurt. "Ivy, breathe."
I suck in air, but it feels like drowning. My hands shake violently. The chemical scent of the lab suddenly feels suffocating.
"He just..." My voice won't work properly. I clear my throat. "He destroyed his career, his reputation. Everything."
“Do you understand what he just did?” she asks.
I nod.
"He just walked into a firestorm and burned his entire life down. For the truth…” Sloane has a far away look in her eyes. “For you"
By the time I’m at home that evening, my phone is exploding with notifications. The laptop Sloane closed keeps pinging with incoming emails. I open it.
