Chapter 3

Dana Davenport POV:

The next morning, I sat in the back corner of the press conference hall at TD Garden wearing a baseball cap and a face mask, staring at the bright lights on stage.

Leaving the estate after Finnegan walked away last night hadn't saved me; within hours, those blurry hallway photos had blown up across American social media, buried under thousands of comments calling me a shameless Puck Bunny.

On the stage, Finnegan sat behind a row of microphones in a black training hoodie with the team logo, his face blank while the team's PR manager wiped sweat from his forehead beside him.

A sports reporter in the front row shot his hand up immediately.

"Captain Ochoa, what was going on between you and the notorious Dana Davenport at last night's rehearsal dinner? Does this violate the morality clause in your billion-dollar contract?"

I looked at him across the crowded room and twisted my fingers together in my lap, my heart hanging in my throat even though I already knew what he would say.

Finnegan swept a cold glance over the cameras and tapped his long fingers against the table before his deep voice echoed through the speakers.

"Nothing at all."

He leaned forward slightly, his tone dripping with open mockery.

"It was just an accidental bump in the hallway. There is no way I would ever be interested in a woman with a dirty record like hers."

The reporters let out a satisfied laugh, and the PR manager breathed a huge sigh of relief, quickly steering the questions toward the upcoming playoffs.

Finnegan's words felt like a bucket of ice water poured over my head, leaving me shivering as my eyes burned with unshed tears.

I couldn't sit there and listen to another word, so I stood up and slipped quietly out the side door.

Finnegan Ochoa POV:

I sat behind the press table watching that thin, lonely figure disappear behind the side door, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth hurt.

Under the table, I balled my hands into fists until my nails dug into my palms, using all my willpower to stop myself from jumping off the stage and pulling her back into my arms.

The second the press conference ended, I shoved past the PR manager with a dark face, strode down the executive hallway, and kicked open the door to the team owner's office.

My father, Harrison Ochoa, the billionaire owner controlling this entire franchise, sat behind his massive mahogany desk and stared at me coldly.

I walked up to the desk and slammed both hands down on the wood, glaring at him.

"Are you happy now? I read every word of the PR script you wrote for me."

Harrison closed the financial report in his hands, his voice calm but carrying total authority.

"You think a simple denial is enough? The board has reached its limit with your playboy image."

He stood up and walked around the desk to face me.

"This scandal is already hurting next season's broadcasting rights negotiations, and the NHL league office is thinking about using the morality clause to suspend you."

I let out a cold laugh and straightened my back.

"Then let them suspend me. I don't care."

Harrison's eyes flashed with anger, and he threw a thick folder straight at my chest.

"You don't care? What about your Captain's 'C'? What about the family trust fund under your name?"

The papers scattered across the carpet, and when I looked down, I saw a drafted PR marriage contract with Dana Davenport's name printed clearly on the bride's line.

My heart skipped a hard beat, and I jerked my head up to stare at him.

"Are you crazy? You want me to marry her when the whole country is trashing her name right now?"

Harrison adjusted his silk tie, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Because the whole internet hates her, stepping up to 'save' her right now is the only way to show the public you are a responsible man who settles down. Besides, Douglass already agreed to the deal so Davenport MedTech can merge into our company."

I ground my teeth together as the image of Dana walking out that side door flashed in my mind, and I forced the words through my teeth.

"I'm not doing it."

Harrison stared at me coldly and played his final card.

"If you refuse, your captaincy goes to someone else tomorrow morning, and I will make sure Dana can't survive another day in Boston."

The blood in my veins froze, and I glared at him with bloodshot eyes, my chest heaving as I realized he had a hundred ways to crush a woman with no one protecting her.

Trapped on the edge of a cliff by my duty to the team and my need to keep her safe, I bent down and picked up the contract, my fingers crushing the edges of the paper.

I gave Harrison one last dark look, turned around without another word, and walked out into the cold hallway while pulling out my phone to call my assistant.

"Find out where Dana is right now. I need to see her."