Offside Hearts

The Gala

Sienna

By the time the sun began to set, the entire campus had transformed.

Strings of white lights hung from the trees leading to the Alumni Hall, where the fundraising gala was being held.

Expensive cars lined the entrance, photographers moved from guest to guest, and university staff rushed around making sure every detail was perfect.

This wasn't just another school event. Wealthy donors, former athletes, and influential business people had all come to support the hockey program that had made Ashford University famous.

I stood near the entrance, adjusting the strap of my camera while staring at the media pass hanging around my neck. I had covered campus events before, but nothing like that. Professor Monroe's words kept replaying in my mind. Watch. Listen. Pay attention. The assignment sounded simple enough, yet something about tonight made me feel uneasy.

After showing my media pass to security, I stepped inside.

The ballroom was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers reflected against polished marble floors, while waiters moved through the crowd carrying silver trays filled with sparkling drinks and elegant appetizers. A jazz band played softly in one corner, adding to the luxurious atmosphere. Everywhere I looked, people were laughing, shaking hands, and making promises that sounded just as expensive as the suits they were wearing.

I lifted my camera and began taking photographs of the event. University officials smiled for the cameras, donors posed proudly beside oversized donation checks, and members of the hockey team greeted guests like celebrities walking a red carpet. It felt less like a university fundraiser and more like a private event for the rich and powerful.

Then the room suddenly grew louder.

I didn't have to turn around to know why.

Luca Hayes had arrived.

The crowd naturally parted as he entered with the rest of the Ashford Wolves. Cameras flashed almost immediately, and several students rushed toward him, hoping for a photograph or an autograph before security gently pushed them back.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, Luca looked every bit like the campus superstar everyone claimed he was.

I hated admitting it, but he looked nothing like the arrogant athlete I had imagined.

He smiled politely at everyone who greeted him, stopped to speak with an elderly donor in a wheelchair, and even bent down to shake hands with a little boy wearing an oversized Wolves jersey.

The child looked as though he had just met his greatest hero.

I quickly looked away.

Appearances could be deceiving.

People had once said the same things about my father.

Sienna.

I turned to find one of the student reporters grinning at me.

I thought you hated hockey players.

I do.

He laughed.

Then, why have you taken six pictures of their captain?

I haven't. “You have.”

He pointed at the display screen on the back of my camera.

I looked down and immediately felt my face grow warm.

Somehow, he was right.

Every time I had lifted my camera, Luca ended up in the frame.

Occupational hazard, I muttered before deleting two of the photographs.

My classmate laughed and walked away, leaving me alone again.

A few minutes later, I slipped away from the ballroom to explore the rest of the building. The hallways were much quieter than the main event, and the silence was a welcome relief after all the noise inside. I continued taking photographs of the decorations until I noticed a door at the end of the corridor that hadn't been fully closed.

Voices drifted through the narrow opening.

One voice sounded calm.

The other sounded angry.

I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. Honestly, I wasn't

But then I heard someone mention the hockey team.

Curiosity got the better of me.

Carefully, I stepped closer.

...The money has already been transferred, a man said.

It has to stay quiet until after the championship,

Another voice replied. If this gets out now, everything we've worked for falls apart.

My heartbeat quickened.

This didn't sound like a conversation about donations.

Instinctively, I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone.

As a journalism student, I learned to document everything.

I pressed the record button.

My hands trembled slightly as I held my breath and listened.

The captain doesn't know, one of the men said.

He doesn't need to know.

And if someone finds out? They won't..

A floorboard creaked beneath my foot.

The conversation stopped.

Every muscle in my body froze.

For one terrifying second, nobody spoke.

Then a chair scraped loudly across the floor.

Did you hear that?

Someone was coming toward the door.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Without thinking, I turned and ran.

I didn't stop until I reached the crowded ballroom again, where music, laughter, and conversation swallowed the silence I had just escaped.

My breathing was uneven as I slipped my phone back into my bag.

The recording was still there.

Whatever those men had been discussing...

I had captured ever

y word.

I didn't know it yet, but that recording was about to change my life forever.