His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 175: Olive's Pov

The attorney I'd been avoiding thinking about because thinking about him meant thinking about Judy's death, which meant thinking about Klaus's murder, which meant spiraling into the conspiracy theory rabbit hole I'd been trying to climb out of.

I stared at the call for three full rings, my mind instantly flashing back to the scene of the interrogation at the police station, to Detective Harrison's careful questions and the way he'd looked at me like I might be hiding something.

I sighed and picked up the phone with shaky hands, my heart already racing before he'd even said a word.

"Hello, Olive. I'm here to tell you about the investigation regarding Judy Byron's death."

Richard's voice boomed through my phone with that particular professional tone lawyers used when they were about to deliver news that could go either way.

My heart skipped at how strange and weird it still sounded that Judy was actually dead—like my brain refused to fully accept that someone I'd had dinner with less than a week ago was now being referred to in past tense.

I still couldn't pull that reality fully into my head, couldn't make it make sense.

"Your name has been dropped from the case," Richard continued, and I felt my entire body sag with relief I hadn't realized I'd been holding back. "His mother confirmed that Judy himself had called her when you left, and he called her after some minutes after you left the restaurant. The investigators made sure to check every camera angle to verify, and they've determined the time of his death was some hours later or so after you departed the premises."

He paused for a second, and I could hear papers shuffling on his end.

"But the investigators believe his death wasn't something random or crime-of-opportunity," he said, his voice dropping lower, more serious. "The cause of death has been officially released, and I probably shouldn't be discussing this with you, but I want you to be aware—Judy Byron was murdered. It was a professional hit. Clean, calculated, nearly perfect. The kind of job where someone knows exactly what they're doing."

My heart stopped completely, then started again at double speed.

The thoughts I'd been having, the investigations I'd been doing the previous night when I'd found that article about Klaus, it was all confirmed now.

This wasn't paranoia. This was real.

"Have you seen anything strange or weird around you recently?" Richard asked, his tone shifting to something almost protective. "I need to make sure you're safe, and I need to be certain you're not somehow still connected to his death in ways we haven't uncovered yet."

My mind flashed back immediately to the strange messages I'd received yesterday, those two texts that had screamed danger from every word, that had known exactly where I was and what I was doing.

Messages I should absolutely tell him about.

Messages I was going to keep to myself because admitting I'd received them meant admitting I was digging into things I probably shouldn't be digging into.

"No, I haven't," I lied, the guilt of it heavy in my chest like a stone. "If I see anything suspicious, I'll let you know immediately."

I was playing a risky game, and some part of me knew it was going to blow up in my face eventually.

"Alright then. Take care of yourself, Olive. And seriously—if anything feels off, call me. Don't wait."

He said his goodbyes and ended the call, leaving me sitting there with my heart thudding so hard

A heavy breath left my lips as a cold sweat swept through my body despite the office temperature being perfectly regulated.

I swiped my laptop open with fumbling fingers, my hands typing furiously from panic as I tried to navigate back to the site where I'd saved the article about Klaus's investigation into racing corruption, the article that had confirmed my brother hadn't died in an accident at all.

But when I typed in the search terms I'd used before, I couldn't find it.

I froze, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

I typed it again, searching more desperately this time, checking my browser history and my bookmarked pages and anywhere else I might have saved it.

I went back through my Chrome history, retracing every single step I'd taken the night before when I'd found that article, following the exact path that had led me to that devastating discovery.

But I couldn't find it anywhere.

Not even a single trace that it had ever existed.

All of it had been wiped clean, erased right out from under me like nothing had ever happened, and for a second it felt like I was losing my mind, like maybe I'd imagined the whole thing in some kind of grief-induced hallucination.

The threat from last night hung over my head like a guillotine waiting to drop.

I groaned out loud, so furiously frustrated that I grabbed my hair in both hands and scattered it around my face, pulling at it like the physical pain might ground me back in reality.

Was I losing my mind?

Was I allowing strange things to slip back into my life and convince me of conspiracies that didn't exist?

But I knew I'd seen that article. I'd fucking seen it, had read it three times, had screenshot it or at least I thought I had.

Just then, my phone rang again and when I looked at the screen, I saw Brenda's name flashing there like a lifeline I desperately needed.

I sighed, staring at the contact for a second before finally swiping to answer, trying to pull myself together enough to sound normal.

"Hey, girl. I'm so sorry I couldn't call you this morning," Brenda's voice echoed through the speaker, loud and vibrant and exactly what I needed to hear right now. "How was your time with the twins? Did they drive you completely insane yet?"