His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 172: Olive's Pov

The other end was silent for a second, and I could only imagine the expression on Zane's face right now—probably somewhere between amused and completely bewildered.

But then he spoke, and his words shocked even me.

"Yes, I am. You might want to help me convince her to accept my marriage proposal. She keeps rejecting it."

My eyes widened in absolute mortification.

"Zane—" I started, but Elijah cut me off.

"Aunty Olive, you don't want to get married? Why?" He turned to me with a look that seemed way too stern for a five-year-old, like he was actually scolding me, and I almost burst into laughter because he looked so adorable trying to be serious.

"I think he's not the one for me," I said, deciding two could play this game even though I knew it was a joke, even though I knew I wouldn't want to be with anyone else if not Zane, even though the thought of actually marrying him sent a thrill through my entire body that I absolutely refused to acknowledge right now.

"Olive..." Zane's voice came through the speaker, weak and hurt in a way that made me wonder if he actually thought I meant it.

"Okay, kids, excuse me," I said quickly, needing to get away from their knowing looks.

"Yay! She's going to talk with Uncle Zane!" they both shouted at the same time, making me shake my head while chuckling at their antics.

I stood up and walked toward the hallway, pressing the phone closer to my ear.

"Hey, Zane."

"Muffin." His voice was softer now, more uncertain. "You said you're not sure about me?"

The way he said it—like he was weighing his words carefully before speaking them—made me want to play my cards right, to push just a little bit more.

"Well, I have high standards, you know."

I said it while staring at my fingers, and for a second, there was a vivid, wild imagination of a large diamond ring resting on my left hand, catching the light and making everything feel real in a way that both terrified and thrilled me.

"What are your standards?" Zane asked, his voice dropping lower.

I chuckled, and for a second, I forgot about everything else—the threats, the investigation, Judy's funeral, Klaus's murder, all of it just faded away.

And I focused on now, on this moment, because for some reason Zane had a way of turning my mood into something giddy and light, and it was shocking that I was still so completely into him even with all the revelations I'd recently encountered.

For a second, I wondered if I was insane, or if it was just his effect on me that made rational thought impossible.

"Olive..." His voice pulled me back.

I blinked hard, realizing I'd zoned out completely.

"Maybe being honest. No, not maybe—being honest."

The words came out before I could stop them, my mind flashing back to that first encounter with Zane Mercer in that Chicago hotel room, when he'd been shirtless and dangerous and had propositioned me with the most insane fake dating scheme I'd ever heard.

"I've always been honest with you," Zane said, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice even though we both knew it was a lie.

I rolled my eyes like he could see me which I wished he could. "Have you been?"

I was too tempted to tell him about Klaus right then and there, to ask him point-blank if he'd known my brother before he met me, to demand the truth about what really happened thirteen years ago.

But somehow I knew he wasn't going to reveal anything to me, and that's what scared me the most—the idea that he was keeping secrets that could get me killed.

"In the hotel room, when you offered me the deal to date you for Cole's revenge, you told me you had personal reasons," I said, my voice getting quieter. "Up till this moment, I never knew what those personal reasons were. I don't know anything about you, Zane. I don't know your favorite color. Your favorite food. Your past before you became the well-known Zane Mercer."

"Muffin—"

"Don't fucking 'Muffin' me," I snapped, knowing my absolute red flag was turning what should have been a romantic moment into something painful and confrontational, but I was tired of the lies and the pretense between us.

"Muffin, my reasons are to protect you," he said quietly.

"Protect me from what, Zane? Knowing about you? Knowing the truth? Protect me from what—you?"

I asked, and he was silent on the other end.

The silence stretched between us like a physical thing, heavy and suffocating.

"Seems like it's like that," I finally said.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and he actually sounded sorry, which somehow made it worse.

"Until you're ready to tell me the truth, then you can apologize properly."

I ended the call, shutting it down and staring at my screen where his name was still displayed.

Something hard tightened within my chest, something painful and crushing, and I knew what it was even though I didn't want to admit it.

I'd fallen for him.

So fucking hard that I didn't think I could live without him anymore.

And this was different from anything I'd ever felt before—different from the whole shallow infatuation I'd once had with Cole, who I'd thought was my last true love.

I'd never had this intensity with anyone else.

I took a sharp breath and walked back into the living room, watching as the twins had dozed off in each other's arms on the couch.

The sight looked beautiful and peaceful, and for once, I wished I could go back to the moment when I had Klaus, when I'd always dozed off in his arms and he'd promised to protect me from the bad men.

Before I knew that the bad men had already won.