His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 148: Olive's Pov

That I'd gone on a date with another man while we were—what? Broken up? On a break? I didn't even know what we were anymore.

"It doesn't matter what it was," Nikolai said, and there was something almost gentle in his voice now. "What matters is what it will look like to him."

He took a step closer, and I had to fight the urge to back away.

"Zane Mercer is many things," he said quietly. "Patient. Calculating. Dangerous. But when it comes to you, Olive Monroe, he is none of those things. When it comes to you, he is a man barely holding on to control."

My breath caught.

"I do not know what happened between you two," Nikolai continued. "I do not know why you have not spoken in almost two weeks. But I do know that he has been losing his mind. Making decisions that are reckless even for him. Destroying things that do not need to be destroyed. All because you will not call him."

Guilt twisted in my chest, sharp and painful.

"And now," Nikolai said, his voice dropping lower, "I have to tell him that the woman he is losing his mind over was on a date with another man. Do you understand what that will do to him?"

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think past the panic flooding my system.

"Don't tell him," I said, and I hated how desperate I sounded. "Please. It wasn't—it didn't mean anything. It was just—"

"Just what?" Nikolai's eyes were sharp now. "Just a dinner? Just a conversation? Just you moving on while he burns the world down trying to figure out why you left?"

Each word was a knife.

"I didn't leave him," I said, but even as the words came out I knew they were a lie.

"Then what do you call it?" Nikolai asked.

I didn't have an answer.

We stood there in silence, the fluorescent lights humming overhead, my heart pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.

"He bought your stepfather's company," Nikolai said finally. "Did you know that?"

I turned my head sideways with guilt. "Yes, you don’t need to remind me.

"Yes I do. Zane bought it. Paid an obscene amount of money for it. And then gave it back to Grayson Sinclair like it was nothing." Nikolai's eyes were locked on mine. "He did that for you. To save your family. To prove he could give you something real instead of just pretty words and empty promises."

Oh god.

"And you repay him," Nikolai continued, his voice getting harder now, "by going on dates with other men."

"It wasn't like that—"

"It does not matter what it was like." He cut me off again. "What matters is what it looks like. And it looks like you are done with him."

"I'm not—" The words stuck in my throat.

Was I done with Zane?

I didn't know. I didn't know anything anymore except that every time I thought about him my chest ached and every time I tried to move on my body rebelled and I was so fucking tired of not knowing what I wanted, and it got even more complicated now with the new revelations.

Nikolai studied me for a long moment.

Then he sighed, the sound heavy and resigned.

"Go home, Olive," he said, stepping aside to clear a path to my car. "Go home and think about what you really want. Because when I tell Zane what I saw tonight, I don’t know wjhat he’s going to do."

He turned to walk away.

"Nikolai," I called out, my voice cracking.

He stopped but didn't turn around.

"Does he—" I had to force the words out. "Does he really care? Or is this just about winning? About not losing?"

Nikolai looked back at me over his shoulder, and something in his expression softened.

"The boy I know," he said quietly, "does not play games with things he cares about. He either wants you or he does not. And trust me, Olive Monroe, he wants you. More than I have ever seen him want anything."

Then he was gone, disappearing into the stairwell and leaving me standing alone in the parking garage with my heart in my throat and my hands shaking and the terrible knowledge that I had maybe thirty minutes, an hour at most, before Zane showed up at my apartment demanding answers I didn't have.

I made it to my car on autopilot, my fingers fumbling with the keys as I unlocked the door and slid into the driver's seat.

For a long moment I just sat there, hands gripping the steering wheel, trying to breathe through the panic.

Zane bought my stepfather's company. Gave it back like it was nothing.

For me.

And I'd spent the last two weeks ignoring him while he tore himself apart.

But still, Zane knew about Klaus.

"Fuck," I whispered into the empty car.

I started the engine and pulled out of the parking spot, my movements mechanical as I navigated out of the garage and onto the main road.

The drive home was a blur. I barely registered the traffic lights or the other cars or the familiar streets leading to my apartment building.

All I could think about was Nikolai's words.

‘When I tell Zane what I saw tonight, he is going to come for you.’

And then Judy’s words.

"Did you know they knew each other? That Klaus and Zane crossed paths years before you ever met him?"

My phone buzzed in my purse.

I almost didn't check it. Almost just let it ring and focused on getting home.

But some masochistic part of me needed to know.

I pulled it out at a red light and glanced at the screen.

Unknown number.

My hands started shaking again as I opened the message.

You have one hour. Use it wisely. - N

The light turned green.

Someone honked behind me.

I hit the gas, my heart racing, my mind spinning with everything I needed to figure out before Zane showed up at my door.

But when I pulled into my apartment parking lot twenty minutes later, when I took the elevator up to my floor, when I unlocked my door and stepped inside—

I still had no idea what I was going to say to him.

I dropped my purse on the counter and kicked off my heels, my feet aching from the walk through the parking garage.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

I should eat something. Should change out of this dress. Should maybe call Brenda and tell her what was happening.

But instead I just stood there in my kitchen, staring at nothing, waiting.

Waiting for the knock on the door that I knew was coming.

Waiting for the confrontation I'd been avoiding for almost two weeks.