Chapter 11

Emma stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror of the arena’s executive suite. The scarlet blazer Lisa had insisted on made her look confident, powerful—like someone who belonged in the owner’s box, not the wives’ section. Her newly styled hair framed her face in soft waves, and subtle makeup enhanced her features without being overdone.

“You look like a Mitchell,” she told her reflection.

A gentle knock sounded at the door. “Five minutes, Ms. Mitchell,” called Walter, her grandfather’s ever-reliable assistant. “The team meeting is assembling.”

“Thank you, Walter.”

Emma took a deep breath, gathering the notecards with her prepared remarks. Most of the organization already knew about the announcement—the PR team, key executives, equipment managers. But the players, including Jack, were about to be informed just minutes before the press conference.

In the hallway, Alek waited, impeccable in a charcoal suit. His professional mask was firmly in place,