His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 84: OLIVE's POV

The house felt the same.

That was the strange part, walking through those familiar hallways, past the photos I'd seen a thousand times, the furniture that had been rearranged and rearranged again over the years. This had been my home for nearly half my life, and despite everything, despite all the hurt and rejection, it still felt like coming back to something known.

Not comfortable, exactly. But familiar.

The living room was warm with soft light from the lamps my mother had insisted on replacing last year. The kitchen smelled like the same vanilla candles she always bought. Even the creaky third step on the staircase was exactly where I remembered it.

Home.

Even if it had never quite felt like mine.

I could hear voices coming from the back of the house, laughter, conversation, the clink of glasses. The party was in full swing in the outdoor area, where my mom had set up that massive island table she'd been so proud of last summer.

"Olive!"

I turned to see Hunter approaching, genuine surprise lighting up his face.

"You actually came." He pulled me into a hug, and I relaxed slightly. Hunter had always been kind, even when the rest of them weren't. "And you look incredible. That dress is—wow."

"Thank you. Happy you won that game. I should probably get a check split from you."

"Thanks. But I don't think you need this check split." He stepped back, studying me with that same confused expression Vanessa had worn outside. "Because, uh... that car outside?"

"Is mine, yeah."

"Jesus Christ." He laughed, shaking his head. "What's the story there? Because last time I saw you, you were driving that beat-up—what was it, Toyota?—that barely started."

"Things changed."

"Clearly." He glanced toward the back of the house. "Come on, everyone's outside. Diane set up this whole elaborate dinner thing. You know how she gets."

I did know.

My mom loved hosting, loved showing off, loved making sure everything was perfect and elegant and impressive, and I was the opposite of her.

We walked through the house together, and I could feel the weight of curious stares from the other guests we passed. Word had apparently spread about my arrival, and the cleaned up scandal.

The outdoor area was beautiful.

Mom had outdone herself, string lights hung everywhere, which created a warm light in the dark sky. The massive island table was set up with crisp white linens, elegant place settings, and fresh flowers arranged in crystal vases. People milled around with champagne and wine, laughing and talking, the atmosphere looked quite relaxing and celebratory.

And there, at the center of it all, stood Grayson.

My stepfather.

He saw me immediately, and his face lit up with genuine warmth.

"Olive!" He excused himself from the conversation he was having and made his way over. "There you are."

He pulled me into a hug, which shocked me for a second, but I felt some of my anxiety ease.

He wasn’t the CEO now, he was the father.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he said, pulling back to look at me properly. "That dress is stunning on you."

"Thank you for inviting me."

"You're family, Olive. You're always welcome here. You know. You are my daughter" He squeezed my hand, then gestured toward the bar. "Come, let me get you a drink. We have so much to catch up on."

"Are you still mad at me?" I asked as we walked toward the bar together.

His expression softened. "I was never mad at you, Olive. Concerned, yes. Protective, absolutely. But never mad."

Before I could respond, I saw my mom approaching, her expression lighting up the second she saw me.

"Olive!" She pulled me into a hug, though I could feel the tension in her shoulders. "How lovely to see you, darling. That's quite an arrival you made. The car outside caused quite a stir."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Of course." Her eyes scanned my dress, my hair, calculating. "Chanel, if I'm not mistaken?"

"It is." I looked around, staring at her, the question only her could recognize portrayed in my eyes.

"Lovely." And then she came closer for only me to hear. “And she’s here. Be gentle to her, and aggressive if the need arises.” And she pulled back.

She turned to Grayson, her smile practiced. "Darling, Senator Morrison was asking for you. Something about the charity gala next month."

"I'll find him in a moment," Grayson said, his hand still on my elbow. "First, I want to catch up with Olive properly." And my mother nodded.

We reached the bar, and Grayson ordered us both champagne while I tried to settle the nervous energy thrumming through my veins.

"So," he said once we had our glasses, "So are you okay? Even with the video scandal?"

My stomach dropped. "It’s already been proven that’s fake,”

"Olive, I know. I just want to be sure you are okay." His expression was serious, and his palm rested on my shoulder lightly "I want you to know—I never believed it for a second."

I was shocked, "You didn't?"

"Of course not. I've known you since you were when fifteen, fourteen, god I can’t remember, but I’ve known you for a very long time. You're not capable of that kind of manipulation. It’s too cheap. I taught you better." He took a sip of champagne. "Besides, from what I understand, it was proven to be a forgery almost immediately. Deep fake technology, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Fascinating stuff. Terrifying, but fascinating. Too wrong." He studied me carefully, and I could see the question forming before he asked it. "How are you dealing with Zane Mercer?”

There it was.

My heart pounded. This was Grayson—my stepfather, the man who'd always been protective of me, who'd watched me grow up, who probably had opinions about who I should and shouldn't date.

"We're together, yes, nothing to deal with." I said quietly, waiting for the lecture, the concern, the warning about dangerous men and getting in over my head, and how he was his nemesis.

To my complete surprise, Grayson smiled. "Good. He's a dangerous man. Ruthless in business, could be my enemy, but let’s be fair. He treats you way better."

I blinked. "You're... okay with it?"

"Olive, you're an adult. You don't need my permission." His expression was warm, genuine. "Yes I was too intense with you, created so much… loose ends between us, which I sincerely apologize, I was just trying to be father and not have you destroyed by him. He can be dangerous, but you look different. And whatever it is going on with you, I need you to know I’ve got you."

My throat felt tight. "Grayson—"

"I mean it, Olive." He set down his glass, giving me his full attention. "You deserve someone who treats you well. Who sees your worth? And from everything I've seen so far, well, maybe I need to trust you this time."

We stood there for a moment in comfortable silence, and then Grayson's expression shifted to something more professional.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that presentation you sent over. The analytics for the Mercer collaboration."

My heart rate picked up. "What about it?"

"It was exceptional, Olive. Some of the best work I've seen from anyone on the team. And even though, I am not in support of the whole collaboration, yet… I would always appreciate an incredible job." He smiled at my obvious surprise. "In fact, I've been thinking about your role at the company. I'd like to discuss a promotion—"

"Grayson, really?" My mother's voice cut through our conversation, sharp despite the smile on her face as she appeared beside us. "Tonight is supposed to be about celebration, not office drama."

"This isn't drama, Diane," Grayson said calmly. "This is recognizing exceptional work."

"Which can be done on Monday, or Tuesday, or any fucking day which doesn’t involve family time and party. Doesn’t involve the office." She touched his arm, her smile firm yet dangerous. "Let's not bore everyone with business talk at Hunter's party."

Grayson chuckled, patting her gently, while my mother threw me a light glare and I tried not to chuckle instead.

"You're right. We'll discuss this next week, Olive. Before I end up sleeping in the couch."

"Of course."

My mother swept Grayson away toward Senator Morrison, leaving me standing by the bar alone.

I took a sip of champagne, trying to process what had just happened.

Grayson believed me. Thought my work was exceptional. Wanted to promote me. And more than that—he kind of approved of Zane.

But my mother had shut down the conversation immediately. Typical Mom.

I turned to find Vanessa beside me, her earlier shock replaced with something that looked almost like respect.

"What was?"

"Aunt Diane stepping in like that. She really doesn't like you getting attention, does she?"

"Never has," I said quietly, sipping my champagne.

"Well, for what it's worth," Vanessa said, surprising me, "I think Uncle Grayson's right. If he says your work is good, it's good. He doesn't give compliments lightly."

"Thank you."

We stood there for a moment, and then Vanessa leaned closer, lowering her voice.

"So. Zane Mercer. Is it serious?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. It's serious."

"Good." She raised her glass. "You deserve it. You really do." I stared at her, wondering where that came from.

The party continued, and I found myself actually relaxing into it. Hunter made sure to include me in conversations. A few of Grayson's business associates came over to congratulate Hunter on his Win.

Even some of the family members who'd always ignored me started treating me with something resembling respect.

And then I saw her.

Janet.