Page 96 of Traded

A few laughs follow his words. “The Titans matches are family friendly and we’re proud to grow our supporters from an early age. We also take special measures at the Furnace to prevent intoxication in the stands during games. Our choice of brand partners is always something to be mindful of. But in moderation, I don’t see a problem.”

“And to answer your other question, Reynolds spent most of the shoot complaining,” Boone adds into his own mic.

Carter looks more like he’s gritting his teeth than smiling. “I was offering creative direction.”

“You asked if they could replace me with a cardboard cutout,” Boone says slyly. “If you want to take me home, Reynolds, all you have to do is ask.”

Even the Titans look like they’re smothering amusement.

Ness is already pointing to the next question, but Megan stands up, interrupting her. “And do you have any reputationalor moral concerns about working with the Scheltzer brand, given the accusations of domestic abuse recently reported against its founder? Or does money talk?”

Well,shit.I straighten in my seat. Carter’s face turns to stone. He glances at Boone. “I wouldn’t normally speak for Mercer, but I think we can both say that we were not aware of those accusations. Domestic violence is not an issue I could ever look past. We’ll pick this up immediately after the conference ends. Thanks for letting us know.”

Boone nods, leaning into the mic. “Reynolds has it correct. If that’s true, we won’t be going ahead with the partnership.”

Several faces swivel to look at the guy directly in front of me, and I note the Scheltzer lanyard around his neck. He drops down in his seat, the back of his neck reddening.

The questions move on to the shared arena. The rivalry. The Atlantic standings. Boone fields one about whether the Aces’ recent form proves their relocation to the Furnace is working.

“We don’t need a fancy arena to do well,” he says smoothly. “But, you know, it probably helps. They have their ownmassage room.”

Carter rolls his eyes.

“One for Carter. You’ve looked less aggressive off the rush over the last few weeks,” Callum Morris says. His tone is conversational, but Carter’s face tightens. “That Midwest Swing was a tough run. Is that tactical, or are you dealing with anything physically? Ongoing issues from last season’s injury?”

Carter stares down at the notes in front of him. “Never been in better health. I agree, the Midwest was tough, but we’ve seen that before. Everyone’s allowed an off day, Cal. Hope you took a good look, because you won’t be seeing it again.”

Ness points towards the middle row. “Valerie? Try to keep it to a round half dozen. I know you like to push it.”

Valerie Adams rises slowly, smoothing a hand over the front of her cream trousers, a sharp crease down each side. She holds her recorder lightly in one hand.

“Today’s campaign has leaned heavily into the idea that the rivalry between the Titans and Aces is personal,” she begins. “Carter, you and Boone have known each other for a long time.”

Carter’s expression doesn’t shift. “I’m struggling to see a question there, Val.”

Her lips tilt up. “How much of your rivalry is due to the issues you faced during your childhood?”

Carter looks to Ness. She’s scowling. “That’s a red topic, Val. It’s in the brief.”

Boone’s chair rocks forward as he sits up.

“I’ll rephrase.” She waves a hand airily. “You both played together through college. Many people expected you to enter the draft together as a registered pack. When and why exactly did that relationship deteriorate?”

Ness leans towards her microphone, sounding desperate. Carter says nothing, but his eyes dart into the crowd, searching. “We’re running low on time, so let’s keep questions relevant to hockey.”

“It is relevant to hockey,” Valerie rebuts instantly. “Their history is central to the marketing campaign Meridian has spent the entire day pushing in our faces.”

Ness’s stare could melt steel. “That campaign is about theteamrivalry.”

“Captained by two former friends who now appear unable to stand one another.” Valerie’s smile holds the victory of a shark scenting blood. “Was the breakdown in your friendship connected to your omega, Carter? Rosie Johnson?”

My name feels akin to a detonation. Dozens of eyes turn my way, but I don’t look away from the podium. When Carter finds my face, I see him inhale.

“Rosie is a member of the Titans organization,” Carter says, still looking at me. Each word lands separately. “She isnota topic for this press conference, nor is she a player. She deserves her privacy. Next question.”

“She’s alsoyouromega.” Fucking hell, she just doesn’tstop. My teeth bite into my cheek hard enough to taste copper.

“I have a source that states that you both lived with the Mercer family,” Valerie continues, eyes fixed on Carter. “According to several sources including former classmates, the three of you were virtually inseparable until you weren’t. Those sources suggest there was a personal disagreement involving Rosie.”