His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 131: Zane's Pov

I stood at the edge of the high landing, staring down at the cars tearing through the underground track below.

Smoke puffed into the air from the cigarette between my fingers, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

Preoccupied with something. Someone.

My eyes drifted to the phone lying on the concrete ledge beside me.

Zero calls. Zero messages.

Nothing from the phone I kept specifically for her.

I closed my eyes, wondering when the fuck I'd turned into a lovesick teenager.

Less than two months ago, I wouldn't have given a damn about who called and who didn't. I loved my peace. Thrived on silence. The quiet gave me space to think, to plan, to strategize.

But now?

Now I felt like my chest was being crushed by a truck every time I looked at that blank screen.

"Standing up here groaning over a woman," Nikolai's voice cut through my thoughts, thick with his Russian accent and dripping with amusement. "Why don't you just call her?"

He leaned against the railing beside me, his own cigarette dangling from his lips, smoke curling up toward the warehouse ceiling.

Nikolai had that look on his face. The one that said he was about to tear me apart with brutal honesty and enjoy every second of it.

"And why should I call her?" I said, my voice flat. My eyes settled back on the race below. "I'm not chasing anyone."

One of the drivers was trying to take a particularly dangerous turn. Idiot was going to flip his car if he didn't slow down.

"Because you're whipped," Nikolai said bluntly, now fully focused on me instead of the race. "And you've been making drastic decisions for the past two days because you can't handle the fact that she hasn't reached out."

"I haven't—"

"You made what's-his-name—" Nikolai paused, pretending to think. "Ah yes, Andrew Cooper. The digital media specialist who created that deep fake of Olive. You made his wife divorce him. Filed a lawsuit that bankrupted him. Ensured he can never work in media again. He's been rendered completely useless. Pathetic man."

I took a long drag from my cigarette, saying nothing.

"Old news, I know," Nikolai continued, clearly enjoying himself. "But what about you blowing up that warehouse full of stolen sports memorabilia? The one that belonged to those trafficking ring leaders who pissed you off at the club last week? What was that about? Protecting your territory? Or proving something to yourself?"

I exhaled smoke, watching it dissipate into the air.

"They deserved it," I said simply. "I did what was necessary."

But Nikolai was never the type to accept defeat.

He shook his head, chuckling.

"No," he said. "You did that because the woman you love hasn't called you. Even after you decided to buy a company's shares worth over a billion dollars and hand them over like a charity case to her stepfather—who, by the way, is your core enemy. But the person you did it for hasn't called. And you're confused because you've never found yourself in this kind of situation before."

Every word hit like a punch.

I turned to look at him, jaw clenched.

But I wasn't going to accept defeat either. Wasn't going to turn myself into some lovesick fool who needed validation from a woman.

"You're wrong, Nikolai," I said, my voice cold. "I did what I had to do because my father was a piece of shit who needed to understand he didn't control me. Plus, he didn't see it coming. That was satisfying enough."

I pulled out another cigarette and lit it, this one hitting harder than the last.

Nikolai sighed slowly, shaking his head.

"Son," he said, and there was something almost gentle in his voice now. "We are all messed up people. So fucking messed up. But never allow the chance to have something beautiful pass you by because of the emotions and ego we've built up to survive."

He patted my shoulder and walked away, heading back toward the race.

My brows crunched together. My hand tightened around the cigarette until I thought it might snap.

Her face appeared in my mind without permission.

Her smile. The way she whispered my name when I fucked her against the wall last time in my penthouse. Her blush when she got shy. The way she looked at me like I was something more than just the damaged, dangerous man everyone else saw.

My heart pounded faster. My breathing went shallow for just a second.

Fuck.

"Boss."

A voice cut through my spiral.

I turned to find Walter standing beside me, his expression scrunched up in confusion and concern.

"Zane," he said carefully. "You look like hell. Are you okay?"

I hated the concern on his face. Hated when anyone showed me any form of worry or care.

All thanks to my father's cold attitude, I'd learned that concern meant weakness. That caring made you vulnerable. That showing emotion gave people leverage over you.

"He's angry that your daughter hasn't called him," Nikolai called from where he'd retreated. "What kind of man does that?"

My jaw flexed, but Nikolai had already turned back to the race, dismissing me entirely.

"Is there a problem, Walter?" I asked, ignoring Nikolai's sarcastic comment.

Walter sighed, running a hand through his graying hair.

"Your father really wants to speak with you," he said. "You've been ignoring his calls. He's being filed with lawsuits. The media's tearing him apart. And I don't like all this attention on you and the family. The board is asking questions."

I took another drag from my cigarette, letting him continue.

"And," Walter added, his voice dropping slightly, "Diane's husband wants to speak with you. Apparently, Grayson figured out you bought his shares."

My head snapped toward him.

Not because of the first part. I didn't give a fuck about my father's problems.

But the second part made my blood run cold.