Ivy finally looks at me. Her brown eyes are steady, fierce.
"Because the truth matters. Because Mr. Stallworth tried to destroy my career, my reputation, and my relationship with Declan to maintain power over him. Because I won't let someone like that win."
The room falls silent.
Barnes tries to discredit her on cross-examination, implying she's biased, that she's testifying out of personal interest. But Ivy doesn't flinch. She answers every question with calm precision, citing dates, presenting evidence, dismantling his arguments with the same analytical brilliance she brings to her research.
By the time she steps down, Gregory's lawyer looks defeated.
"The board will now deliberate," Pemberton announces. "We'll reconvene in two hours."
The waiting is torture.
We're directed to a sterile, windowless side room with uncomfortable chairs and buzzing fluorescent lights. Riley paces. Rowan stares at his phone. Marcus sits beside me, silent.
Ivy perches on the edge of a chair across from me, her hands folded so tightly her knuckles are white. I want to go to her. But there are too many people, too many eyes.
"You did amazing," Sloane tells her quietly.
"I just told the truth."
"You destroyed him," Jake says, leaning against the wall. "I've seen grown men crumble under less pressure than you just handled."
Tyler and Connor nod in agreement. Misha just gives her a small, approving smile.
Two hours feel like two years.
Finally, we're called back.
The gallery has filled even more with press and NHL officials. We take our seats. Gregory sits motionless at his table, expression blank.
Pemberton clears his throat.
"After careful review of the evidence and testimony presented, this board has reached its decision." He shuffles papers, taking his sweet time. "Regarding Gregory Stallworth, we’ve found evidence of financial fraud, psychological manipulation, and blackmail. Mr. Stallworth's agent license is hereby permanently revoked. He will be referred to criminal prosecutors for potential charges including wire fraud, embezzlement, and extortion. He is ordered to repay all improperly obtained funds, totaling eight point two million plus interest, to Mr. Hawthorne within ninety days."
The room erupts. Riley shrieks. Rowan pumps his fist. Marcus rushes to me and grips my shoulder hard enough to bruise.
"Regarding Declan Hawthorne," Pemberton continues, and the room quiets again. "We find no evidence of misconduct on his part. His suspension is immediately lifted, effective today. This board commends Mr. Hawthorne for his courage in exposing systemic abuse within the player-agent relationship."
People surge around me. Teammates clap my back, Riley throws herself into my arms, Rowan's rare grin splits his face. Jake pulls me into a crushing hug, muttering something about justice and brotherhood.
But I'm looking for Ivy.
She's standing near the back, pressed against the wall by the crowd, eyes wet but smiling. I push through bodies until I reach her, and then I'm cupping her face in my hands and kissing her in front of everyone.
She makes a small surprised sound before melting into me. Her hands fist in my shirt, and I pour everything into this kiss.
Gratitude. Love. Relief. Promise.
When we break apart, the room has gone quiet.
Marcus is staring. Riley is grinning. The entire team is watching.
"I love you," I say loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'm done hiding it."
Ivy's cheeks flush brilliant red, but she doesn't look away.
"I love you too."
