Chapter Eighteen
Emmett
Emmett Novak had spent most of his life believing contracts protected people.
At midnight, he stood inside a dark hockey rink while a woman from Vantage Narrative International used one to threaten everyone Piper had ever trusted.
The red emergency light above the exit painted the old concrete floor in uneven strips. Across the rink, the projector had gone black again, leaving only the faint smell of dust, cold air, and overheated equipment.
Piper’s hand remained locked around his.
Not because cameras were present.
Because one had been.
Somewhere.
University security moved toward the main entrance. Daniel spoke into the emergency radio, asking the officer outside to keep the Vantage representative in place and check her for equipment.
The woman’s voice returned through the speaker.
“I am not armed, Mr. Rourke. I came to discuss a contract.”
Emmett looked toward the locked equipment cabinet containing their phones and sealed electronics.
“Turn off the radio,” he said.
Daniel shook his head. “It is the only active communication line.”
“She is using it to control the room.”
Piper’s fingers tightened around his.
“She wants us listening,” she said. “Let her talk.”
Emmett looked down at her.
The projector had just displayed their second kiss across the rink floor. Vantage had titled it. Packaged it. Turned something private into the final scene of an episode they had never agreed to make.
Piper’s face was pale in the emergency light.
Her voice was not.
“What is your name?” she asked toward the radio.
A pause followed.
“Celeste Rowan.”
Sasha made a quiet sound near the coaches’ room.
Everyone turned toward her.
“You know her?” Piper asked.
Sasha nodded. “Executive vice president of unscripted development.”
Tyler, standing near the darkened rink boards, whispered, “That title contains several warnings.”
Griffin looked at him.
Tyler raised both hands. “Quiet warning.”
Piper faced the radio again. “Why are you here, Celeste?”
“To make sure you understand the offer.”
“I understand extortion.”
Celeste laughed softly through the static.
“Mr. Rourke will call it that. Our attorneys call it a rights settlement.”
Daniel’s look sharpened. “Your attorneys can explain that distinction to federal investigators.”
“They are welcome to try. The files were acquired under an executed media agreement. The ownership dispute may take years.”
“And the stolen client data?” Piper asked.
“Will remain confidential if you accept the settlement.”
Emmett felt Piper’s hand become colder.
The woman was not raising her voice.
That made it worse.
Owen had used the same calmness while turning cruelty into a reasonable request.
Emmett looked toward the entrance.
“What do you need?” he asked Piper quietly.
Her eyes moved toward him.
“Do not go out there.”
He had not realized he was leaning in that direction.
“I was not.”
“You were doing it internally.”
“That is difficult to prove.”
“I notice things.”
Even now, the words almost made him smile.
Piper looked back toward the radio. “How did you record us?”
Celeste did not answer immediately.
Sasha turned toward the coaches’ room.
Her borrowed laptop sat on the desk inside, connected only to a portable battery pack Daniel’s team had approved after removing its wireless card.
Sasha’s face changed.
“The battery,” she said.
Daniel followed her gaze. “Do not touch it.”
A security officer entered the room carrying a handheld scanner. He moved it slowly around the laptop, then the power cable.
The scanner sounded near the black battery pack.
Emmett stepped closer.
The officer removed the device with gloved hands and turned it beneath the emergency light.
A pin-sized lens was embedded beside the charging indicator.
Piper stared.
“We brought the camera inside,” she said.
Sasha covered her mouth. “Owen gave me that charger months ago.”
Celeste’s voice came through the radio.
“Technically, Keller Media provided it. Vantage acquired the connected hardware with the archive.”
Emmett looked toward the entrance.
“That is not how ownership works.”
“No,” Daniel said. “It is how they want a court to spend two years deciding ownership works.”
The officer sealed the battery pack inside an evidence bag.
Celeste continued.
“The device no longer matters. We have enough for the series.”
“Then why do you need us to sign?” Piper asked.
Silence.
Emmett looked at her.
The question had changed something.
Piper heard it too.
Celeste answered carefully. “Voluntary participation improves distribution value.”
“That is not the same as need,” Piper said.
“No.”
Piper stepped toward the rink door.
Emmett stayed beside her.
Not in front.
Celeste continued. “We can release the existing archive without you. The audience will watch. Owen’s arrest made the story more valuable, not less.”
“Then release it,” Piper said.
Everyone turned toward her.
Emmett did not.
He watched the way she held herself.
Shoulders straight.
Chin lifted.
Not the event smile.
No smile at all.
Celeste’s voice lost some of its amusement. “Your clients may not appreciate that decision.”
“You are threatening innocent people because I will not let you film my relationship.”
“I am explaining the consequences of rejecting a negotiated settlement.”
Piper looked toward Daniel. “Can she release the client files legally?”
“No.”
“Can she release them before a court stops her?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes.”
Emmett felt Piper absorb the answer.
She always became quieter when the cost belonged to someone else.
Celeste knew that.
Owen had known it too.
The entire plan depended on Piper protecting everyone except herself.
Emmett stepped closer until his shoulder touched hers.
Not moving her.
Not shielding her.
Reminding her that she did not stand there alone.
Piper looked toward him.
“What?” she asked.
“They need us.”
Celeste answered through the radio. “We prefer you.”
Emmett ignored her.
“The contract includes the Ridgeview arena,” he said. “They do not own it.”
Daniel’s attention sharpened.
Emmett continued. “They cannot use the team uniforms, marks, or facilities without permission.”
Piper looked toward the printed appearance schedule in Daniel’s hand.
“The wedding showcase is mine,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Briar Bean belongs to Nora.”
“The old dock belongs to the Brennan property company,” Griffin added.
Ava folded her arms. “And my family owns this building until the renovation transfer closes.”
Celeste remained silent.
Piper looked toward the radio.
“You booked locations you do not control.”
“We booked production holds.”
“You booked possibilities,” Piper said. “You need access.”
“We can film elsewhere.”
“Then your schedule has no meaning.”
Emmett understood the shift.
The series was not only footage.
It was locations the audience already recognized. The dock. The rink. Piper’s showcase. The places Owen had turned into evidence before Vantage tried to turn them into episodes.
Without access, Vantage still owned stolen material.
They did not own the ending they had promised buyers.
Piper’s posture changed.
Not relaxed.
Operational.
“What do you want?” Celeste asked.
Piper looked at Daniel.
He shook his head once. “Do not negotiate through an emergency radio.”
“I am not negotiating.”
Celeste laughed softly. “You are an event planner. Everything is negotiation.”
Piper’s expression closed.
Emmett felt her hand start to withdraw from his.
He let her.
Then she turned her palm upward between them.
He took it again.
Her choice.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“A way to protect the client files without giving them our relationship.”
Daniel looked at the appearance contract. “A temporary standstill.”
Celeste’s voice came immediately. “Rejected.”
“You did not hear the terms,” Piper said.
“I know the tactic.”
“Then you know it is the only conversation available.”
Silence.
Piper continued. “You place every client file in independently verified escrow. No copies remain accessible to your production team. No distribution, no transfer, no derivative use.”
“In exchange for?” Celeste asked.
“One appearance.”
Emmett looked at Piper.
Her fingers tightened around his before he could speak.
Not warning.
Permission to wait.
Celeste sounded interested now. “Which appearance?”
“The Summer Wedding Showcase.”
Maren stared at Piper.
“That is your business,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Celeste asked, “You would allow filming?”
“Public areas only. No hidden devices. No overnight access. No client interviews without written consent.”
“And Emmett?”
Piper looked at him.
The entire room waited.
Emmett thought about the professional contract he had lost.
The suspension.
Graham.
Every time someone had treated Piper like the useful part of his public image.
He did not want another camera near her.
He also knew the client files were not his risk to dismiss.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
Piper’s eyes softened.
“Choose.”
The word surprised him.
“You said the showcase is yours.”
“It is. Your participation is not.”
Emmett looked toward the empty rink.
The projector had turned their kiss into a title card.
Vantage wanted him because hockey made the story easier to sell.
He could refuse.
They might release the files.
He could agree.
They would call the agreement romance.
Neither choice felt clean.
Perhaps that was the point.
“I will appear,” he said.
Piper’s expression tightened. “You do not have to.”
“I know.”
“This could affect your hearing with Ridgeview.”
“I know.”
“They may say you are participating in media activity while suspended.”
“I will require written university approval.”
“You already thought of that.”
“Yes.”
“Annoying.”
“Occasionally useful.”
Her mouth moved.
Emmett faced the radio. “One appearance. No staged relationship scenes. No questions about private physical contact. No use of Ridgeview names, uniforms, or footage without university approval.”
Celeste paused.
“You are not in a strong negotiating position, Mr. Novak.”
“Then stop asking for me.”
The silence that followed was different.
Longer.
Less controlled.
Emmett looked at Daniel.
Daniel gave a single nod.
They had found the weakness.