His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 223: Olive's Pov

I didn't know the details yet, but I could feel it—that prickling awareness that something was very, very wrong.

That Elena being here had everything to do with me.

With Zane.

With whatever history they shared that I knew nothing about.

Nina cleared her throat, breaking the tension.

"Excellent," she said briskly. "Now that introductions are complete, let's discuss the timeline and logistics. The campaign launches in three days, which means we have a very tight schedule. Elena will be the face of the campaign alongside The Mercer Brothers, and we'll need both of you—" she looked pointedly at me and Sophia "—to finalize the creative concepts and ensure everything aligns with the brand message and vision we've developed while we wait for the final feedback for our last candidate tomorrow."

I forced myself to focus on Nina's words, to take notes in my notebook, to nod at the appropriate moments and ask questions that sounded intelligent even though my brain was screaming at me to run.

But I couldn't stop thinking about the way Elena had looked at me.

Like she knew something I didn't.

Like she was holding all the cards and I was just a pawn in whatever game was being played.

Like she'd been waiting for this moment for a very long time.

The meeting dragged on for another hour—going over schedules and shot lists and marketing strategies and budget allocations and a thousand other details that I barely absorbed because I was too busy trying not to look at Elena, trying not to notice the way she kept glancing at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention.

All I could think about was getting out of that room.

Away from Sophia's smug expression.

Away from Elena's unsettling stare.

Away from the growing certainty that my life was about to get infinitely more complicated.

Finally, mercifully, Nina wrapped things up.

"That's all for today," she said, gathering her papers. "Olive, Sophia—I'll need both of you to submit your final concepts by tomorrow morning, nine AM sharp. Elena, my assistant will send you the full brief and schedule. Stephanie and Jessica will together work for the final candidate which will be selected tomorrow. Any final questions before we adjourn?"

No one spoke.

"Good. Meeting adjourned."

I stood immediately, gathering my things, ready to get the hell out of this room before I said something I'd regret.

"Olive."

Elena's voice cut through the room like a knife.

I turned slowly, my heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Elena had stood as well, and she was looking at me with that same intense expression, like she could see straight through every defense I'd carefully constructed over the years, every wall I'd built to protect myself.

"I hope we can work well together," she said, her tone pleasant and professional but her eyes absolutely glacial, devoid of any warmth whatsoever. "I have a feeling this will be a very... enlightening experience. For both of us."

There was something in the way she said it—something that felt like a threat disguised as professional courtesy, like a warning wrapped in polite words.

"I'm sure it will be," I forced myself to say, keeping my voice steady even though every instinct was screaming at me to run, to get as far away from this woman as possible.

And then I left, walking quickly down the hallway to my office, needing space to think without Sophia's smug face or Elena's cold stare watching my every move.

I leaned against the door, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears, feel it in my chest, taste it in my mouth.

Who the hell was Elena Volkov?

Why did she look at me like I was an enemy she needed to destroy?

And why did I have the horrible, sinking feeling that she knew something that I don’t—and that whatever history they had together was about to become my worst nightmare?

Sophia's smug expression. Elena's cold stare. The way she'd said Zane's name like she owned it, like she had claim to him that I could never match.

I pulled out my phone, staring down at Zane's name in my contacts.

I could call him. Ask who Elena was. Demand to know why he'd never mentioned a childhood friend who looked like a goddamn supermodel.

But something stopped me.

If I called, he'd have time to prepare. Time to craft whatever explanation he thought I wanted to hear.

And I was done with people giving me carefully constructed versions of the truth.

I'd had enough of that today—my mother's quiet breakdown, Walter's guilty concern, Brenda's betrayal still sitting like acid in my stomach.

I didn't need more half-truths.

I needed to see his face when I brought up Elena's name. Needed to watch his reaction in real time, before he had a chance to hide whatever he was really feeling.

The thought settled in my chest with sharp clarity.

I was going to Zane's home.

Right now.

Unannounced. Unexpected. Probably unwelcome given how late it was and how he wasn’t a fan of surprises.

But I didn't care.

Because I needed to know who Elena Volkov was to him.

And I needed to know why Sophia looked so fucking satisfied when she'd introduced us.

I grabbed my keys and my purse and walked out of the office without telling anyone where I was going, without logging out of my computer or even bothering to turn off my desk lamp.

The photoshoot was in three days.

Three days until I'd have to watch Zane model alongside Elena—this beautiful stranger who knew him as a child, who'd said his name like she had claim to it, who'd looked at me like I was temporary and she was permanent.

Three days to figure out what the hell was happening.

And I was going to start right now.

But I didn't care.

I needed him.

And for once, I wasn't going to overthink it or talk myself out of it or convince myself I was being needy.

I was just going to go.

And hope that when I got there, he'd understand why I came.