His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 146: Olive's Pov

"I'll just set them on the table," he said, watching my face carefully before placing them down.

We sat across from each other, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

"So," he said finally. "How have you been?"

I blinked, realizing I hadn't even thanked him for the flowers. My mind had wandered off again, thinking about someone with blue eyes who also brought me pink peonies.

"I've been good," I said quickly. "And the flowers are lovely. Thank you."

He nodded, studying me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable.

"How have you been?" I asked, redirecting.

His smile widened slightly. "What do you think?"

I stared at him, unsure how to answer that.

"I think you've changed," I said finally. "A lot."

"How so?"

"The Judy Byron I knew five years ago hated suits," I said. "Hated anything related to business or finance. What changed?"

He took a sip of his wine, considering his answer.

"My older brother made me understand that power is the ultimate source of survival," he said. "And power comes from different places. He made me follow the hard path—sent me to the United Kingdom to study finance. And from there, I built the steel company."

The way he spoke about business, about power, about the ruthless path he'd taken—it reminded me uncomfortably of how Zane talked about his empire.

"So you did all that in five years?" I asked. "That's impressive."

He shook his head. "I've been undergoing training long before we met. I just wasn't the Judy Byron you're seeing now."

I nodded slowly. "I never knew you had a brother. I thought you grew up alone."

"You never asked," he said simply. "But it's not your fault. He's a very private person."

Then, slowly, he leaned forward across the table.

"So," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "Are you still with Zane Mercer?"

The question hit me like a physical blow.

Of course he knew. My relationship with Zane had spread like wildfire across social media and sports news.

"What do you know about Zane Mercer?" I asked carefully.

For just a second—so brief I almost missed it—something flickered across his face. An emotion I couldn't quite identify.

"Let's just say we've had some business dealings," he said, his smile returning quickly.

But there was something about the way he said it. The way he spoke about Zane.

It made me curious. And uneasy.

"Your brother, Klaus," Judy said suddenly, completely changing the subject. "He called me the night before he died."

The world stopped.

My eyes snapped to his face, shock freezing every muscle in my body.

I must have heard him wrong. I must be misunderstanding.

Judy leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable.

"I knew Klaus Mercer for three years before his death," he said calmly. "We had... mutual interests. And yes, he called me that night."

He picked up his fork, cutting into the steak that had been delivered while we were talking, and took a bite.

Like he hadn't just dropped a bomb and left me with a thousand questions screaming in my head.

Images flashed through my mind—Klaus's lifeless body on the hospital bed, blood staining the white sheets, the way he'd looked so small and broken.

Anger surged through me.

How could he sit there so casually? How could he mention my dead brother like it was nothing?

"How did you know Klaus? Why didn’t you ever mentioned him?" I asked, my voice tight with barely controlled rage.

He stopped eating, looking up at me.

"You're not eating," he observed, nodding at my untouched plate.

"I asked you a question," I said firmly.

He studied me for a long moment.

"I met him fifteen years ago," he said finally. "At a charity event which our fathers too us to. We stayed in touch over the years. He was... interested in some projects I was working on."

"What kind of projects?"

Judy's smile didn't quite reach his eyes this time.

"At first, it was nothing serious at first… until it turned out to the kind that required discretion," he said. "The kind that involved people who operate outside normal channels."

My blood ran cold.

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Judy said carefully, "that your brother was involved in things you probably don't know about. Things that connect to people you're currently involved with."

He let that hang in the air for a moment.

"Zane Mercer, for instance," he continued. "Did you know they knew each other? That Klaus and Zane crossed paths years before you ever met him?"

My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear my own thoughts.

"You're lying," I whispered.

"Am I?" Judy asked. "Ask yourself this, Olive—why would Zane Mercer, of all people, be interested in you? What are the odds that you'd end up with someone who has connections to your dead brother?"

I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor.

"I need to leave," I said.

"Olive, wait—"

"Thank you for dinner," I said, grabbing my purse. "But I can't do this."

I turned toward the door.

"He's using you," Judy called after me. "Whatever Zane told you, whatever he made you believe—it's connected to something bigger. Something that got your brother killed."

I froze, my hand on the door handle.

“But there’s something else you need to know about," Judy said quietly, "But I can only reveal, if you decide to meet me again. Next week. In another place."

I didn't turn around.

Didn't acknowledge his words.

I just walked out of that restaurant and didn't stop until I was in my car.

And then I sat there, hands shaking, trying to process what had just happened.

Judy knew Klaus.

Judy knew Zane.

And all of it led back to my brother's death, one I had long forgotten, that I had buried deep within my heart and forgotten the pain, and the death that I had thought had been just an accident.