Chapter 30 DECLAN
DECLAN
Vindication
The NHL Player Conduct Review Board hearing room smells like old wood and stale coffee.
I sit at a long oak table beside Patricia Ammon, my lawyer, whose silver hair and steel-gray suit make her look like she was born to destroy men like Gregory. Across the aisle, Gregory lounges in his chair in his perfectly tailored suit, expression calm.
Too calm. Like he's already won.
We're in a conference room at the league's regional office. It has high ceilings, wood paneling, the NHL logo mounted behind the three-person review board. It's not a courtroom, but it’s just as high-stakes.
Behind us, the gallery is packed. Riley and Rowan sit in the front row, matching green eyes fixed on me with fierce loyalty. Marcus sits beside them, arms crossed, jaw tight. Jake, Tyler, Connor, and Misha fill the row behind them—my brothers, blood or not.
And Ivy.
She's tucked between Sloane and Dr. O'Connell, her petite frame drowning in a navy blazer that's too formal for her. Her straight black hair is pulled back in a severe ponytail, making her warm brown eyes look enormous in her pale face. She catches my gaze and offers the smallest smile.
It steadies me.
The three-person review board enters. Two former NHL executives and one league attorney. The chairman, a gray-haired man named Ambrose Pemberton, settles behind the center podium and clears his throat.
"We're here to review allegations of misconduct by Mr. Declan Hawthorne and related claims against his former agent, Gregory Stallworth." His voice is dry, bored, like he's done this a thousand times. "Mr. Stallworth, your counsel may present opening arguments."
Gregory's lawyer stands. He’s sharp-faced man named Douglas Barnes. He adjusts his tie and launches into his attack.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the board, what we have here is a classic case of buyer's remorse.
" Barnes gestures toward me like I'm a petulant child.
"Mr. Hawthorne is a talented hockey player, yes, but he's also reckless, impulsive, and notoriously undisciplined.
His reputation as a playboy is well-documented. "
Riley makes a small noise of protest behind me. Rowan's hand lands on her arm, stopping her.
"When Mr. Hawthorne decided he wanted to escape his contractual obligations to Mr. Stallworth—obligations that made him a wealthy man, I might add—he fabricated elaborate stories of financial impropriety when he was in fact the fraudulent party.
He manufactured a scandal involving an innocent woman to garner sympathy.
He turned on the man who discovered him, guided his career, and treated him like a son. "
My hands clench into fists under the table. Patricia places one cool palm over them, a silent warning.
Barnes continues for another ten minutes, painting me as ungrateful man motivated by greed. By the time he sits down, I want to put my fist through his face.
"Ms. Ammon?" Pemberton prompts.
Patricia stands slowly, deliberately. She doesn't rush to the podium or shuffle papers. She walks with measured steps that command attention.
"Mr. Barnes spins an interesting story," she begins, her voice crisp. "But stories don't hold up under scrutiny. Evidence does."
She nods to her assistant, who pulls up the first presentation slide on the large screen.
"What you're looking at is a forensic accounting analysis conducted by three independent firms." Patricia's laser pointer highlights key figures.
"Over the course of nine years, Gregory Stallworth systematically embezzled $8.
2 million from Mr. Hawthorne's earnings through fraudulent contracts, manipulated clauses, and phantom 'management fees' that never appeared in disclosed agreements. "
The numbers glow on the screen: contract discrepancies, unauthorized withdrawals, shell companies. My stomach churns looking at them, even though I've seen these documents a dozen times.
"Furthermore," Patricia continues, advancing the slides, "Mr. Stallworth engaged in psychological manipulation and coercion to maintain control over his client.
When Mr. Hawthorne attempted to pursue a personal relationship, a relationship that threatened Mr. Stallworth's absolute authority, the defendant launched a calculated campaign to destroy both Mr. Hawthorne's reputation and that of Dr. Ivy Chandler. "
On hearing Ivy’s name, my chest tighten.
"We have emails, text messages, and testimony from multiple witnesses demonstrating a pattern of abuse that extends far beyond Mr. Hawthorne. This is not 'buyer's remorse.' This is justice."
She sits down.
The chairman shuffles papers. "Mr. Stallworth, you may call your first witness."
Gregory's defense is predictable: character witnesses who testify to his ‘stellar reputation,’ financial experts who try to explain away the discrepancies and pin them on me, carefully coached statements that paint him as a victim of a smear campaign.
It's all smoke.
Then Patricia begins presenting our case, and the room shifts.
The first witness is David Mercer, a retired NHL defense man. He's in his forties now, gray threading through his black hair, but his testimony is devastating.
"Gregory managed me for six years," he says. "I trusted him completely. That was my mistake. When I retired and finally hired an independent accountant, I discovered he'd stolen nearly two million dollars from my earnings. By then, he'd hidden the money so well I couldn't recover most of it."
Barnes starts to interrupt, but Pemberton raises a hand.
"Mr. Barnes, Mr. Mercer's testimony is directly relevant to establishing a pattern of behavior. Please let him finish."
Barnes sits back down, jaw tight.
The second witness is Carter Mills, a current minor league player. His hands shake as he takes the stand.
"Gregory promised he'd get me to the NHL if I did exactly what he told me," he says quietly. "He controlled where I lived, who I dated, what I posted on social media. When I tried to leave, he threatened to blacklist me with every team in the league."
Riley is crying silently behind me. Rowan's expression is murderous.
Then Evangeline Ashford is called.
She walks to the witness with the poise of someone who's spent her entire life being watched. Her platinum blonde hair is pulled back in a sleek bun, her designer suit perfectly tailored. But up close, I can see the exhaustion in her blue eyes.
"Ms. Ashford," Patricia begins gently, "can you describe your relationship with Mr. Hawthorne?"
"It wasn't real." Evangeline's voice is clear, unwavering.
"Gregory Stallworth approached my father with a proposal: Declan and I would be photographed together to boost both our public images.
My father agreed because he thought it would help his political campaign.
I agreed because..." She pauses, swallowing hard, then stays silent.
"Can you elaborate on Mr. Stallworth’s side?"
Evangeline nods. "Gregory orchestrated the restaurant reservations and photo opportunities, even the fake proposal rumors that leaked to the press.
When Declan refused to continue, Gregory threatened to destroy his career.
He showed me messages he'd collected, photos he'd manipulated.
He told me he had enough evidence to ruin both of us if we didn't comply. "
Patricia lets that sink in before asking, "Did Mr. Stallworth ever discuss Dr. Ivy Chandler with you?"
"Yes." Evangeline's gaze finds mine, then moves to Ivy in the gallery. "He called her a 'liability.' He said Declan was throwing away his career for someone 'insignificant.' He showed me the edited video before it went viral. He was proud of it."
The room erupts in whispers. Pemberton bangs his gavel.
When Evangeline steps down, she walks past Gregory without looking at him. He doesn't even blink.
Patricia stands again. "I have one final witness. Dr. Ivy Chandler."
My heart stops. Ivy rises from her seat, walks to the stand. I realize Patricia adding her at the last minute is a calculated move.
Ivy sits, folding her hands in her lap, and looks directly at the board.
"Dr. Chandler," Patricia begins, "can you describe your role with the Metro Raptors organization?"
"I'm a biomechanics researcher specializing in traumatic brain injury prevention. I’m conducting a university-sponsored study on concussion protocols with the team."
"And how did you meet Mr. Hawthorne?"
A faint blush colors her cheeks. "We met at the training facility. He was one of the players participating in my research."
"Did your relationship remain professional?"
"Initially, yes. But over time, we developed feelings for each other."
Patricia nods. "When did Gregory Stallworth become aware of your relationship?"
"I don't know the exact date, but he began interfering with my research approximately six weeks into the study. Anonymous complaints were filed with the university ethics board. My supervisor received calls questioning my professionalism. Someone sent photos of Declan and me together to the board."
"Did you know who was behind these complaints?"
"Not at first. But the timing coincided with Declan's attempts to distance himself from Mr. Stallworth's control."
"Can you describe the viral video incident?"
Her jaw tightens. "Someone edited footage to make it appear I was tampering with research at the training facility.
The video was doctored, its timestamps altered and context removed.
It destroyed my professional reputation overnight.
I was suspended from my research position.
My apartment was swarmed by reporters. My landlord terminated my lease. "
Her voice doesn't waver, but I see the effort it takes. Riley is openly crying now. Marcus looks like he wants to murder someone.
"Did you later learn who created this video?"
"Yes. Mr. Stallworth admitted as much in communications with Declan. He used the video as leverage to try to force Declan back under his control."