Ashton’s POV
I stood in the equipment room for a long time after Lyra left, staring at the scattered photographs on the floor.
My hands were shaking. Not from fear—from the effort of holding myself together when everything inside me screamed to chase her. To make her listen. To protect her from the trap she was walking into.
But I'd seen her face. The betrayal. The absolute conviction that I was the enemy. Chasing her now would only push her further away.
I picked up the photos one by one, studying them with a trained eye. Professional-grade manipulation. My face seamlessly edited onto other bodies, placed in locations I'd never been, meeting men I'd never seen. Whoever created these knew exactly what they were doing.
And whoever fed them to Lyra knew exactly how to break her trust.
Donovan. The name burned in my mind like a brand.
The call from administration came two hours later.
"Coach Jennings, we need you to report to the Dean's office immediately." The voice was cold, formal. I already knew what was waiting for me.
When I arrived, Dean Morrison was alone. No security guards—not yet. She stood when I entered, and I saw the conflict written across her face. We'd met several times over the past months. She knew who I really was. Knew why I was here.
"Ashton." She gestured to the chair across from her desk. "Please, sit down."
"I'd rather stand."
She nodded slowly, picking up a document from her desk. "A formal complaint was filed against you this morning. Inappropriate conduct with a student. Abuse of position." She set the paper down and met my eyes. "I don't believe a word of it."
"Then don't act on it."
"You know I don't have a choice." Her voice was heavy with frustration. "Once a complaint is filed, protocol takes over. If I ignore it—if I show any favoritism—it opens the college to liability. It opens me to questions I can't answer." She rubbed her temples. "I've already had calls from the Board. Mr. Donovan was very... thorough in escalating this."
Of course he was.
"Kian and I go back fifteen years," she continued quietly. "When he asked me to create space for you here, I didn't hesitate. When he asked me to keep an eye on his daughter, I agreed." She stood and walked to the window. "But this complaint is official. Documented. If I bury it and something comes out later, it destroys everything—the protection we've built, the trust, all of it."
"So you're choosing the paperwork over her safety."
She turned to face me. "I'm choosing to keep our network intact. If I'm removed for misconduct, the next Dean won't owe Kian anything. Won't protect Lyra the way I have." She paused. "This is the long game, Ashton. You know how it works."
I did know. I hated it, but I knew.
"Your campus access is revoked effective immediately," she said, her voice shifting back to formal. Covering her bases in case anyone was listening. "Security will escort you to collect your personal belongings and then off the premises. You are not to contact the complainant or return to campus grounds." She met my eyes one last time. "Do you understand?"
I understood perfectly.
She was protecting the system—the system that would keep watching Lyra even after I was gone. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. But it was something.
"I understand," I said.
"I'm sorry, Ashton." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Truly."
I'd been outmaneuvered. But at least I knew I still had allies on the inside.
The walk to my office was a blur. The security guards watched me pack a single box—I never kept much here anyway. My phone burned in my pocket the entire time.
The moment I was in my truck, I called Lyra. Straight to voicemail.
I texted: Please. Let me prove it. Don't trust Donovan. He's the one who's been feeding information to your father's enemies.
I watched the screen. No response. No read receipt. Nothing.
I called Kian.
"Someone got to her." My voice was tight with controlled fury. "She thinks I'm the traitor."
Silence on the other end. Then: "Explain."
I told him everything—Donovan's meetings with Lyra, the fabricated evidence, the complaint that got me fired. How he'd been building trust with her for months. How he'd fed her information about her mother's murder, about Kian's real business, using truth mixed with lies to poison her against me.
Kian listened without interrupting. When I finished, the silence stretched so long I thought the call had dropped.
"Donovan," he said finally. His voice had changed—gone from ice to something colder. Something that sounded almost like shock. "You're certain?"
"He's the one who showed her the evidence. The one who's been manipulating her. She trusts him completely."
"Jesus Christ." I'd never heard Kian sound rattled. In fifteen years, I'd never heard him lose his composure. "I should have killed him when I had the chance."
"You know him?"
A harsh laugh. "Know him? His real name is Marcus Donovan. His older brother was Elias Donovan—one of the founding members of the Crestwood organization. The same organization that murdered Lyra's mother."
My blood ran cold. "What?"
"Twenty years ago, Elias was one of their top enforcers. Ruthless. Calculated. He helped plan the hit on my wife—scouted the location, arranged the timing, made sure our security was compromised." Kian's voice was flat now, emotionless—the way it got when the pain was too deep to show. "He was there that night. He watched her die."
I closed my eyes, thinking of Lyra's face when she talked about her mother. The soft memories. The grief she'd carried for fifteen years without knowing the truth.
"When we retaliated, Elias was one of the first men we eliminated. I made sure of it personally." A pause. "Marcus was just a teenager then. Barely eighteen. A college student with no apparent connections to his brother's world. We thought he was harmless—just a kid who happened to share blood with a monster."
"You let him live."
"I let him live." The regret in those words was palpable. "Biggest mistake I ever made. And he's spent the last two decades making me pay for it."
"How did he—"
"Patience. He was patient in ways I never expected. Changed his path—went into business instead of crime. Made money, cultivated a reputation as a philanthropist. Bought the hockey club five years ago—right around the time Lyra showed interest in the sport."
The timeline clicked into place. "He's been planning this since she was a child."
"Since the day his brother died." Kian's voice hardened. "He's been feeding information to the remaining Crestwood leadership for years. Her schedule, her movements, everything. He's the leak—and he's been right under our noses the whole time."
I thought of Donovan's fatherly smile. His warm concern. The way Lyra's eyes softened when she talked about him being the only one who gave her answers.
She'd trusted her mother's killer's brother.
"He's been feeding information to the remaining Crestwood leadership," Kian continued. "That's how they knew about her schedule, her movements, everything. He's the leech we've been chasing for months—and he's been right under our noses the whole time."
"And now he's isolated her completely." My grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Got me fired, convinced her I'm the traitor, positioned himself as her protector."
"He's not going to kill her. Not yet. She's worth more to him alive—he wants to destroy me through her. Make me watch while he takes everything I have left." A pause. "Stay close to campus. Don't let her out of your sight. I'm sending backup—men Donovan doesn't know about."
"And Lyra? She won't listen to me."
"Then we prove it wasn't you. We find the real evidence—the connections between Donovan and Crestwood. When she sees the truth, she'll understand." Kian's voice hardened. "But Ashton? Whatever's been going on between you two—we'll discuss it after my daughter is safe."
I didn't deny it. There was no point.
"I'm not leaving her," I said instead.
"I'm not asking you to."
I parked my truck on a side street with a clear view of campus. Watched students come and go. Watched the sun move across the sky. Watched for any sign of Lyra.
In the late afternoon, Donovan's car pulled up to the athletics building. He stepped out, straightening his expensive suit, and walked inside like he owned the place.
Because he did.
The real predator was circling his prey. And I'd just been removed from the board.
I thought about Lyra carrying our child. Alone. Believing I'd betrayed her. Trusting the brother of the man who murdered her mother.
I gripped the steering wheel until the leather creaked and made myself a promise.
Whatever it takes. However long it takes. I will protect them both.
Even if she hates me. Even if she never trusts me again.
I will burn the world down before I let Donovan win.