His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 15: Olive's Pov

Olive’s POV

My phone buzzed in my hand, the vibration sending my heart into overdrive, and I grabbed it so fast I almost dropped it, eyes still locked on Zane, who'd already turned his attention back to the crowd of women surrounding him like he'd forgotten I existed.

It was a text from an unknown number, and the second I opened it, my stomach dropped.

You've got two more days until I make you mine. Ciao. —Your favorite hockey player, Ryan

My heart felt like it was going to combust right there in my chest, and I wanted to throw my phone across the arena because that piece of shit was really trying to play games with my feelings, reminding me that I was running out of time and options and dignity.

I took a deep breath, the kind that fills your lungs until they hurt, and I realized it was either now or never, either I swallowed my pride and did this or I spent the rest of my life wondering what if.

I squared my shoulders and looked around until I spotted a pile of magazines near the merchandise stand, all of them with Zane's face plastered across the cover looking like he'd been carved by angels or demons, depending on how you looked at it.

I grabbed one, tucked it under my arm, and if it meant I had to act like some obsessed fan or desperate cheerleader then so be it, because pride wasn't going to save me from Ryan Mitchell and his disgusting bet.

I walked toward him with my head held as high as I could manage, magazine pressed against my side like armor, and the second I got close enough his eyes snapped to me, cutting through the wall of giggling women who were practically begging him to sign their clothes and body parts.

My face went hot with something that wasn't quite shyness but also wasn't confidence, more like a combination of anxiety and rage and desperation all mixed together into something that made my skin feel too tight.

He clapped twice, sharp and commanding, and just like that the entire crew of fan girls started dispersing, some of them groaning with disappointment, others throwing me looks that ranged from curious to downright hostile.

"Never knew you were one of my fans, Olive," his voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, and I realized he'd moved closer without me noticing, standing so close I could smell the sweat and ice and something else that was just him.

"Yes, I've been a fan of hockey and you played... nice today," the words came out wrong, too formal and stiff, and I wanted to kick myself because this wasn't the plan at all and I probably sounded like an idiot.

"A fan of hockey?" He raised one eyebrow slightly, like he was mocking me, and there was a question hanging in the air between us that he wasn't asking out loud but I could feel it pressing against my skin.

One thing I'd learned about people like Zane was that they wanted you to break first, wanted to watch you crumble while they stood there collecting the pieces so they could mold you back together however they wanted.

"Why are you here, Olive?" His voice dropped lower, more serious. "Last time I remembered, your exact words were to fuck off and go play chess with someone else, and yet here you are standing in front of me with my magazine asking for an autograph."

Fuck, he was smart, so fucking good at pinning you down with words alone, but did I have any other options right now? No.

"I'll accept your deal," I said, forcing my voice to come out cold and defiant even though inside I was screaming.

I watched his face for any reaction, any sign that this mattered to him or surprised him or meant something, but his expression stayed exactly the same, completely unreadable like he'd expected this all along.

He took the magazine from my hands without a word, pulled out a pen from somewhere, and signed it so smoothly and slowly like I hadn't just told him I'd changed my mind about everything, then handed it back to me like we'd just completed a basic transaction.

"Sorry, but the deal's off," he said casually, like he was commenting on the weather. "Went off yesterday."

I almost slapped myself in the face because he was absolutely right and I looked like one of those desperate girls who couldn't take no for an answer, the kind of girl I'd always sworn I'd never be.

"I know it wouldn't have if you'd picked up your calls yesterday," I shot back, trying to hold onto whatever shred of dignity I had left.

"I'm a very busy person, Olive, and if you really wanted the deal you wouldn't have called on the third day." He stepped closer, voice dropping to something almost dangerous. "You would've called on the first day, maybe the second, but never the third. So why? What changed? What made you so desperate that you called me twelve times in one hour?"

He threw the words at me like grenades and didn't give me a single second to recover before he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there shocked and dumbfounded and feeling like I'd just been hit by a truck.

I recovered fast though, faster than I thought I could, and found myself chasing after him like he was my fucking savior, which at this point he kind of was even though I hated admitting it.

"Zane... Zane, please, just hear me out," I ran to catch up, and he stopped so suddenly I almost crashed into his back.

He was still holding his helmet, still looking unfairly hot with sweat dripping down his neck, and for a second all the words I'd planned to say died in my throat because how was I supposed to think when he looked like that?

"I have a better deal for you," I said rapidly, words tumbling out before I could stop them. "This time I make the deal, or I sweeten yours, or whatever you want, just... please."

"Anything I want?" he replied, and something darkened in his eyes, something that made my spine crawl and my stomach clench in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

I'd been pushed back into the very thing I hated and despised, the position of needing someone, of being desperate, and for a second I wondered if I was doing this because of Ryan's bet or because of something more, something I wasn't ready to name.

"Yes," I whispered, heart beating so fast I could feel it in my throat. "Anything."

He studied me for a long moment, eyes traveling down my body slowly like he was memorizing every detail before they landed back on my face, leaving me breathless in a way that had nothing to do with running.

"I'll have a driver come pick you up," he said finally, voice carrying that same mocking tone I was starting to recognize. "Then we can discuss your deal properly."

And just like that he walked away, disappearing into the crowd like he'd never existed, leaving me standing there trying to catch my breath and process what had just happened.

I let out a slow exhale, heart still racing, and slowly turned around only to find Cole standing right there, eyes tight with rage and hands folded into fists like he was barely holding himself back.

"Cole, what the fuck are you doing here?" I glared at him, all the feelings Zane had stirred up disappearing instantly, replaced by the familiar anger that came with seeing my ex's face. "Get out of my way."

"Why should I?" His voice came out harsh, cruel. "What the fuck are you doing, huh? Why are you still here acting like a whore, chasing after Zane Mercer like some desperate groupie? You think he'll even look at you twice? You think you're special?"

I stared at him, not sure what to say, because part of me wondered the same thing but I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

"You're pathetic, Olive," he continued, stepping closer. "Running after him like that, practically begging. It's embarrassing."

Without giving him a reply, without letting him see how his words landed, I walked past him with whatever dignity I had left, heart racing and hands shaking because the truth was Cole Maddox and Ryan Mitchell and every other asshole out there viewed me as exactly that—pathetic, weak, not good enough.

But maybe I was about to prove them all wrong.

Or maybe I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life.

Either way, it was too late to turn back now.