Cheong From Befund.
Checking From Behind
“Ms. Mitchell! How does it feel to be the first female majority owner in league history?”
“Are you concerned about being taken seriously in a male–dominated sport?”
“Will your relationship with Jack Reynolds affect personnel decisions?”
The questions came rapid–fire as Emma stood at the podium, cameras flashing like strobe lights. The press conference had been underway for fifteen minutes, and so far, she’d handled every question with poise that belled her racing heart.
“My gender is less relevant than my qualifications,” Emma replied to a reporter from ESPN. “As for personnel decisions, they’ll be based on performance metrics and what’s best for this organization’s future. No exceptions.”
Her gaze briefly found Jack at the back of the room. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, expression
thunderous.
“One more question,” Lisa Chen announced from the side.
“Ms. Mitchell, called a reporter Emma recognized from the Boston Globe, “sources say you worked anonymously within the organization for a year. Why the secrecy?”
Emma smiled. “I believe in earning respect, not inheriting it. Working from the ground up gave me insights no ownership manual could provide. She leaned slightly toward the microphone. “Sometimes the best way to learn is to listen when people don’t know who’s listening.”
The press conference concluded with photos of Emma, Franklin, and Alek–a united front of leadership. Franklin beamed with undisguised pride, one arm around his granddaughter while gripping his cane with the other. Alek maintained professional distance but couldn’t entirely hide the admiration in his eyes. “You were magnificent,” Franklin whispered as they exited toward the private reception.
Emma’s triumph was short–lived. As they entered the reception area where staff, sponsors, and select media mingled, a commotion erupted from the other side of the room.
“Did you all know about this?” Jack’s voice carried over the crowd. He stood with several teammates, gesturing wildly. “Was everyone in on the joke except me?”
Alek muttered something in Russian and started toward Jack, but Emma caught his arm.
“Let me,” she said quietly.
She crossed the room, aware of conversations halting as she passed, Jack had gathered an audience- mostly younger players who looked uncomfortably caught between their star teammate and their new boss
“Jack, Emma said calmly. “This isn’t the place.”
“Why not? Seems like the perfect place to discuss how my ex–wife has been playing puppet master.” He was sober but radiating volatile energy. “Tell me, was trading me part of your revenge plan all along?”
Emma kept her voice low. “No one has decided to trade you, Jack.”
“Bullshit.” He stepped closer. “Ive heard the rumors. Seattle, Vegas, Montreal–they’re all calling.”
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Checking From Befund
“That has nothing to do with me and everything to do with your performance” Emma stood her ground
despite their height difference. “Check your stats. Watch your game footage. You’ve been self–destructing for
months.”
A dangerous flush crept up Jack’s neck. “Because of you! Because you’ve been screwing with my head, sleeping with my boss-”
“That’s enough. Alek materialized beside them, his large frame imposing “You’re embarrassing yourself
Reynolds.”
“I’m embarrassing myself?” Jack laughed bitterly. “That’s rich coming from the guy who couldn’t wait to get in my wife’s-”
He never finished the sentence. In a blur of motion, Jack lunged at Alek. Emma stepped between them instinctively, but Jack’s momentum carried him forward. His shoulder connected with Emma’s chest, sending her stumbling backward into a cocktail table. Glasses crashed to the floor as security personnel converged
*GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!” Jack roared as two security guards restrained him. “SHES DESTROYING
EVERYTHING I’VE BUILT!”
The room fell silent except for Jack’s labored breathing. Emma regained her balance, refusing Alek’s offered hand. She needed to handle this herself.
“Jack,” she said, her voice carrying in the hushed room. “You’re suspended”
“You can’t-
“Effective immediately. Two weeks without pay for conduct detrimental to the team.” Emma straightened her blazer. “Another outburst like this and it becomes permanent. Clear?”
Jack stared at her, shock replacing anger. In eight years of marriage, he’d never seen this side of her–the CEO, the owner, the authority that needed no validation.
“This is personal,” he said finally, “You’re punishing me because I left you.”
“No, Jack, I’m holding you accountable because you just physically confronted your boss at an official team function.” Emma’s voice remained level. The same standard would apply to any player.”
The security guards began escorting Jack toward the exit. He went without further resistance, the fight suddenly drained from him. At the door, he glanced back once–not at Emma, but at his teammates watching wide–eyed. Whatever he saw in their faces seemed to devastate him more than the suspension.
When the doors closed behind him, the room erupted in whispers. Emma felt Alek beside her, not touching
but present.
“Are you hurt?” he asked quietly.
“Only my pride.” Emma managed a wry smile. “Not how I planned to assert my authority on day one.”
“On the contrary–you just showed everyone exactly who’s in charge.” Alek’s eyes held respect and something warmer. “Though I wish you hadn’t stepped between us. He could have injured you”
“In front of fifty witnesses? He would never play professional hockey again.” Emma surveyed the broken glass. I should address everyone. Damage control.”
“Allow me.” Franklin appeared, having observed the confrontation from across the room. “You’ve done enough
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