Page 47 of The Girlfriend Card (Vegas Sin #4)

Mutiny

Dakota

O ttavia and I held hands as we entered the arena through the player’s entrance with Leo in tow.

I knew it wouldn’t take long before a member of the media happened to spot us.

Sure enough, one of the Sin beat reporters spotted us rounding the corner, and he sprinted after us with his cell phone at the ready to film us.

“Dakota! Ottavia and Leopold! What are the three of you doing together?” he shouted, quickly catching up to us.

“No comment just yet,” I said as we continued through the tunnel.

But he’d caused a stir, and other members of the media quickly joined the fray, scrambling after us and shouting their questions at us:

“Leopold, does this mean you support their relationship?”

“Ottavia, any comment on the video by Devils Girl yesterday? How do you feel about Dakota’s infidelity?”

“Dakota, do you deny Devils Girl’s claims?”

I waved them off. “No questions yet, guys. We’ll answer questions later.”

Of course, they wouldn’t be reporters if they took no for an answer.

The media continued to follow us through the twists and turns of the arena, bombarding us with questions and filming the entire time.

We were free of them at last when we reached the locker room.

I ushered Ottavia and Leo in and gave the confused media staff a wink before I shut the door behind us.

The banter and booming laughter in the locker room suddenly halted when the three of us stepped in.

My teammates lifted their eyebrows, begging the question— what the hell are you doing, Dak?

See, we had a team rule that no “civilians” were allowed in the locker room, except under certain circumstances, so it would’ve been strange enough to see me bring any two people in.

But after yesterday’s nonstop news about the three of us?

Let’s just say my teammates knew something was brewing.

I cleared my throat and spoke up. “Guys, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Ottavia Capuano.”

The room cringed and winced at that news, knowing it spelled trouble with Mr. Capuano.

“Oh no …”

“For real?”

“Dak … bro …”

“Don’t be a dick, boys. She’s cool.” I nudged Ottavia and whispered, “Say hi.”

Ottavia gave a shy wave. “Hi guys.”

“Hi, Ottavia, ” the team belted back.

“What’s up, Otter?!” Brett neared to give her a high-five and told the others, “Otter worked at BarDown this summer. Dak’s right, she’s cool.”

“It’s not about her being cool we’re worried about,” Tank said. “It’s the fuckin’ Godfather we’re worried about.”

“Yeah, we’ll get to that in a second,” I grumbled. I clapped Leo on the back. “And this is Ottavia’s childhood friend, Leo Lancaster.”

With all the jacked athletes sitting around in various states of undress, you’d think Leo would be in Guy Heaven right now, but he kept his gaze trained on the floor instead. “Hello.”

“Hey, Leo,” the boys said.

Safe to say, there was an elephant in the room. And before I could address it, a clamor arose from the media as the locker room door cracked open again.

Coach Miller slid into the room. “Do you have any idea of the firestorm you’ve created?”

I grinned. “Pretty lit out there, eh Killer?”

“Yeah. It’s real lit. Now I’ve got one pissed-off team owner waiting in my office.” He rolled his eyes and gestured for us to join him. “You three. Come with me. Now.”

But I refused to move.

“We’re not going up there.” I pointed at the locker room floor. “Tell Sal he needs to come down here if he wants to talk.”

Alarmed, Killer’s eyes widened. “I can’t tell Mr. Capuano something like that. If you don’t come to him—”

“If he doesn’t come to us, then the three of us go out there and tell the media everything,” I said. “Tell him I said that.”

“Oh, Lord.” Killer grumbled. “Why are you doin’ this to us, Dak?”

“Because I’m sick of all the lies. That’s what got me into this mess, isn’t it?

Not being honest? Well, I’m done with that—I want to be open about everything from now on, Killer.

Everything. So let’s get the truth out there for everyone to hear.

I want the boys to know who exactly they’re playing for. They should know.”

“Alright, kid. I can see you mean business,” Killer said with a sneaking grin.

He quickly slipped through the door, the media barraging him with questions as he escaped.

And I turned to face my teammates, who had questions of their own.

“You wanna tell us what the fuck’s going on, Dak?” Rust asked.

I sighed. “It’s a long story and I’m not sure how much you’re going to hear. But, boys, I came here because we need your help. The more people who hear this, the better.”

They listened intently as I tried to give them the Cliff’s Notes summary of everything that had transpired this summer, and the predicament we found ourselves in.

I didn’t spill Leo’s secret—like Ottavia had said, it was his story to tell—I only told the boys that the two had dated when they were younger, but it hadn’t worked out. But The Godfather dangled Ottavia’s trust fund over her head, insisting she marry Leo for political reasons.

The boys were both flabbergasted and outraged:

“Arranged marriage?”

“What fucking year are we living in here?”

Encouraged by their support, Ottavia spoke up.

“Which is why it’s so wrong to make it look like I’m ‘cheating’ on Leo in the media.

It’s so awful and hurtful what people are saying about me.

And it’s so isolating, too, because none of it is even true.

I just want to live a normal life and make my own decisions, like who I’m allowed to love or marry. ”

The boys clenched their jaws and muttered swear words, their anger rising.

As if all that wasn’t damning enough, I told them about how Sal had followed me all summer long and paid girls to try to get me to sleep with them, only to have his henchman filming the whole thing.

“Dude, he did what? ”

“Godfather’s a fucking psycho, bro.”

“Who’s to say he’s not following all of us around right now? Filming us? Just in case?”

Then it was time to put the cherry on top. “Boys, he threatened to sit me out for the duration of my contract if I don’t cut all contact with Ottavia.”

After I told them that, it was like a bomb went off in the room:

“HE SAID WHAT?!”

“HE WANTS TO SIT YOU OUT FOR FIVE FUCKING YEARS?!”

I nodded, adding, “Yep. While I sit on the couch at home and get fat on ice cream.”

“OH HELL NO.”

The boys shook their heads, gnashed their teeth, and a couple guys even punched their stalls in a burst of rage. If you ever want to piss off a room of pro athletes, all you gotta do is tell them about how management is conspiring to fuck with their money or their careers.

Despite the noise in the room, there was another commotion going on outside these doors—the media members shouting over each other, “Mr. Capuano! Mr. Capuano!”

Ottavia and I traded knowing glances.

Here we go.

The room fell silent as the team owner stepped in, Killer following closely behind. But it wasn’t a silence of intimidation—no, instead, it was one of righteous outrage, and the boys stared daggers at Mr. Capuano.

But he wasn’t worried about them—yet, anyway.

“Ottavia. Dakota.” Mr. Capuano stared us up and down, his nostrils flaring. But he held the most contempt for his newest adversary. “ Leo. ”

Leo stood his ground, unyielding under the red-hot focus of Mr. Capuano’s gaze. “Sal.” It couldn’t have been an easy position for him to be in, but the guy had won my respect for choosing to stand by Ottavia when it mattered most.

“Congratulations, the three of you have the media worked into a tizzy,” the owner murmured. “Mind telling me what the fuck this is about?”

“It’s about the truth,” I said. “Either you can go out there and tell the media the truth, or we will.”

“Truth?” He feigned ignorance. “The truth about what, exactly?”

“You can play dumb all you want,” I said, “but I already told these guys the whole story.”

“The whole story,” Ottavia added.

“Denying it only makes you look worse,” I said.

The boys leered at Mr. Capuano, nostrils flaring. More than a few ground a fist into their palms.

Mr. Capuano chuckled again, unbothered. He swept his hand over the locker room. “Then the rest of you can learn about consequences, too. Because I specifically forbade you, Dakota and Ottavia, from contacting each other—”

“ Why didn’t you want us talking to each other, Dad?” Ottavia butted in. “Because you didn’t want us to realize that you’d been manipulating us? That you’d followed Dakota around, filming him talk with girls that you paid to try to seduce him?”

“Princess.” He gasped, pretending to be hurt. “You really think I’d do that? You think I even have the time to do something like that?”

“Not you personally, no. You probably paid someone else to do your dirty work,” she said.

“Your video was convincing at first, Dad. But isn’t it funny how it never showed Dakota doing anything wrong?

Not one kiss, not one hug, not one phone number exchanged.

That’s because he wasn’t the one approaching those girls.

They were coming up to him. And I saw it happen with my own eyes, all summer long. ”

“Hell, we saw it, too,” Brett said, sitting at his locker stall.

“Chicks were screaming at him at our summer scrimmages. I knew something was up right then and there—because no one but the most hardcore hockey nerds bother coming to those scrimmages. And let’s be real, no girl wants Dak’s dick that bad. ”

The boys laughed. Never miss an opportunity to sneak in a shot at one of your buds.

“ Well? Are you going to admit it or not?” Ottavia asked. “We all know you’re behind it. Just admit it already.”

“Fine. You’re right. It was me,” Mr. Capuano confessed, making my teammates gasp. “I wanted to test how seriously Dakota was taking his summer obligations, and his loyalty to you. Is that so wrong?”

“ Yes , it’s wrong,” she said, “especially when you edit a video to make it look like he did cheat on me, when he hadn’t.”