“Ladies and gentlemen, the Frost League’s pride takes the ice once again! Let’s see if they can turn their luck around tonight!”
The commentator’s voice boomed across the arena, filled with enthusiasm that barely masked the tension in the room. “But let’s be honest, after the last five games, the investors are still skeptical. This hockey team has been on a losing streak, and morale is… fragile.”
“Absolutely, Rick,” another voice added. “And look at the skill Coach, pacing by the bench. Something tells me even he’s feeling the pressure tonight.”
Raven watched the players from the VIP space as they skated out. The clatter of sticks and the sharp slap of pucks on boards filled the arena. The Frost League team moved with effort but lacked the coordination and precision it once had. She could see it, the subtle hesitations, the missed passes, the fatigue.
“Puck control is slipping!” Rick shouted. “And they’re offside again! That’s going to hurt if the other team capitalizes.”
The crowd groaned as the opposing team’s star player picked up the loose puck and scored effortlessly.
“Another point for the visitors,” the commentator said. “And I see tension is rising.”
Raven’s gaze didn’t waver. She noted everything, the expressions of the sponsors, the players’ body language, Cole’s controlled movements. Her lips curved into a faint, almost concealed smile.
A distinguished-looking man in a tailored suit, clearly a potential investor, leaned forward in his seat near Victor and Cole. He whispered something curtly, shook his head, and left without a word. Raven caught the glint of disappointment in his stride as he walked past the crowded stands.
“Another loss,” Rick muttered, almost rhetorically. “Things are not looking good for the Frost League.”
The final whistle blew. The scoreboard confirmed the inevitable: a crushing defeat. Players trudged off the ice, exhausted, sweat and frustration mingling on their faces. Cole’s expression was carefully neutral, but Raven could sense the tension he carried.
Later, in the press room, cameras flashed and microphones reached forward like metallic fingers. Reporters crowded the podium, pressing for answers.
Victor Dane cleared his throat, looking over the room. “Thank you all for coming. Yes, the team has faced some challenges, but we are committed to bringing the Frost League back to its rightful glory.”
A reporter raised her hand. “Mr. Dane, with recent losses and dwindling investor confidence, what specific steps are you taking to rebuild the empire?”
Victor glanced at Cole briefly, then returned to the reporters. “We’ve brought in someone exceptional,” he said, his voice calm and assured. “Someone who knows the league inside out and has the strategic intelligence to turn this situation around. She will lead the revival.”
All eyes shifted to the entrance. Raven stepped forward, heels clicking softly against the polished floor. She looked confident, calm, and in control. The reporters’ cameras focused, flashes illuminating her presence.
“I’m Raven Vale,” she said, voice clear and resonant. “The Frost League has a legacy that deserves to survive. I promise every fan, every player, every investor that this empire will rise again. We will restore the victories, the pride, and the glory. You’ll see the Frost League stronger than ever.”
Questions came quickly, fast and sharp. Raven answered each with precision, her words deliberate, her expression composed. Cameras clicked, notes were scribbled, and murmurs ran through the room…soon the press conference ended.
Finally, Victor stepped forward. “Thank you, Raven. Your presence here is exactly what the Frost League needs.”
She inclined her head politely. “I’m here to help. That’s all that matters.”
Cole Trent approached then, glancing briefly at her as he extended a hand in a measured, professional handshake. “Glad you could join us,” he said lightly. No warmth, no recognition, just the faintest acknowledgment of her presence. He let go and walked away, focused on his own matters, oblivious to the thoughts running through her mind.
Raven smiled faintly, watching as he walked out of sight.
As she made her way down the hallway, she passed a woman whose gaze lingered slightly longer than polite, Serena. Their paths nearly crossed, and Serena’s eyes flickered with recognition. There was something familiar there, a pull she couldn’t place. But she shook her head and walked on. Probably just someone who looks familiar, she thought.
Raven didn’t stop, nor turned back to look at her. She just continued, heels clicking softly.
Raven stepped into her former office, letting the door click softly behind her. She ran her fingers along the edge of the desk, feeling the weight of every memory, late nights, boardroom battles, the victories she had once celebrated as Maya Trent.
A faint smile touched her lips as her mind wandered.…
She saw flashes of what had led her here: the wins that hid the cracks, the whispers of betrayal she hadn’t yet seen, the subtle moves that planted seeds of distrust… a husband whose charm masked resentment, a player accused of sabotage she didn’t yet understand. Every step, every loss, every deception, it had built up to this moment.
And then the memory that burned brightest, the night she almost didn’t return, the water, the darkness, the vanishing of Maya Trent.
Only one person had pulled her from that end, giving her a new face, a new name… a new purpose.
She turned to the huge glass that displays beautiful light that comes from watching the city as it glows at night…
“They think they’ve won. They think the empire is theirs. They have no idea I survived. And I’m coming for them, every last one.” She said to herself.
Raven’s fingers drummed lightly on the desk as she looked away from the city below. From the wins they celebrated to the betrayals that almost drowned me… it all starts here.
She walked across the office towards where one can view the stadium from above. She noticed the banner hanging in the stadium, where Frost League Group were written in bold letters, now being changed to Trent Empire. She scoffed softly, whispering to herself, “Trent Empire, indeed…”
Her lips curved into a small, dangerous smile. They saw Maya Trent disappear…and now Raven Vale rises.
She paused at the door, turning to leave as an uneasy question filled her thoughts:
“Years from now… will I even recognize the woman I’m about to become?”
From that day forward, the path to victory had been set.