THE ICE KING'S OBSESSION

The Woman Behind the Ice

Elena

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the arena that morning was the silence.

Not the peaceful kind.

The kind that came before a storm.

The usual morning chaos of the Blackwood Wolves training facility was missing. No players shouting across the locker room hallway. No trainers rushing around with equipment. No music blasting from the speakers because someone — usually Carter — thought the team needed “motivation.”

Instead, everyone was quiet.

Too quiet.

I tightened my grip around my coffee cup and glanced around.

Something had happened.

And judging by the way everyone avoided looking directly at me, I already knew it involved one person.

Alexander James Blackwood.

The captain.

The billionaire.

The man who had somehow managed to become the center of my entire world without even asking for permission.

I hated that.

I hated how much I noticed him.

I hated how easily my eyes searched for him whenever I entered a room.

And most of all…

I hated how much I cared.

“Elena.”

I turned around and found Carter leaning against the wall, his expression unusually serious.

That alone was enough to make my eyebrows rise.

Carter Hayes was never serious.

“What happened?” I asked.

He looked toward the closed office doors at the end of the hallway.

“Have you seen Alex?”

My stomach tightened.

“No. Why?”

Carter sighed.

“He’s been in there for almost an hour.”

“Doing what?”

“Being Alexander Blackwood.”

That was not an answer.

I rolled my eyes. “Carter.”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“Someone leaked the medical reports from last season.”

My fingers froze around my cup.

“What?”

The medical reports.

The ones that showed Alexander’s shoulder injury had been worse than anyone knew.

The ones that proved he had been playing through unbearable pain.

The ones that could have destroyed his career if the wrong people got hold of them.

“How?” I whispered.

“That’s what everyone is trying to figure out.”

My mind immediately started working.

Only a few people had access to those files.

Including me.

A cold feeling settled in my chest.

“Does he think it was me?”

Carter’s expression softened.

“No.”

The answer came too quickly.

Almost like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“He doesn’t trust easily, Elena. But he trusts you.”

I looked away.

That was the problem.

Alexander trusting me scared me more than him not trusting me.

Because I knew what happened when people trusted you.

They gave you pieces of themselves.

And eventually…

They gave you the power to break them.

Before I could say anything, the office door opened.

And there he was.

Alexander.

My breath caught.

He looked exhausted.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

His dark hair was slightly messy, his jaw tense, and his blue eyes carried a storm that made everyone around him instinctively step back.

Everyone except me.

His eyes found mine immediately.

And for a moment, everything else disappeared.

The hallway.

The team.

The noise.

Just him.

Just me.

“Elena.”

The way he said my name did something dangerous to my heart.

I hated that too.

I walked toward him.

“Alex.”

His eyes moved over my face.

Searching.

Always searching.

“Can I speak with you?”

Carter quietly disappeared, leaving us alone.

I followed Alexander into his office.

The second the door closed, the atmosphere changed.

He walked toward his desk but didn’t sit.

That told me everything.

Alexander Blackwood only stood when he was trying to control himself.

“What happened?” I asked.

He looked down at the documents scattered across his desk.

“I need to ask you something.”

My heart sank.

“What?”

“Did you access my medical file yesterday?”

I stared at him.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

Not because he asked.

But because he sounded like he was trying so hard not to accuse me.

“Yes,” I answered honestly.

His jaw tightened.

“When?”

“After practice.”

Silence.

A painful, heavy silence.

“And why?”

I swallowed.

“Because your shoulder was bothering you.”

His eyes lifted.

“I didn’t ask you to check it.”

“No.”

My voice became quieter.

“But you also weren’t going to admit it was hurting.”

His expression changed.

A tiny c***k in the wall he always kept around himself.

“You think you know me so well?”

The question sounded angry.

But underneath it…

I heard something else.

Fear.

I stepped closer.

“No.”

His eyebrows pulled together.

“No?”

“No. I don’t know you completely.”

I looked into his eyes.

“But I know enough.”

He didn’t say anything.

“You pretend everything is fine when it isn’t. You push yourself until your body gives up because you think being strong means never needing help.”

His breathing changed.

“And you think I’m wrong?”

“No.”

The answer surprised him.

“I think you’re human.”

For some reason, those words affected him more than anything else I could have said.

Alexander looked away.

“You have no idea what it’s like.”

“What?”

“To have everyone waiting for you to fail.”

His voice was quieter now.

“To be the person everyone depends on. The person who cannot make mistakes.”

I watched him carefully.

The world saw Alexander Blackwood as untouchable.

A billionaire.

A legend.

A man who had everything.

But standing in front of me…

I saw the boy underneath.

The boy who learned too young that weakness was dangerous.

“Alex…”

“No.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

My chest tightened.

“Good.”

He looked at me.

“Because I’m not giving you sympathy.”

A pause.

“I’m giving you honesty.”

Something shifted between us.

Something fragile.

Something neither of us wanted to name.

I stepped closer.

“You don’t have to carry everything alone.”

His eyes locked with mine.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll remind you.”

A faint, almost invisible smile touched his lips.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stubborn.”

“I’m your boss.”

“And you’re still stubborn.”

For the first time that morning, the tension left his face.

But then his expression changed.

Because his phone rang.

He looked at the screen.

And whatever he saw made the warmth disappear.

“What is it?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

He simply turned the phone toward me.

My blood ran cold.

A message.

From an unknown number.

You should ask your precious therapist what happened three years ago.

Below it was a picture.

A picture of me.

And Alexander’s expression told me one thing.

He knew.

He knew someone was trying to expose my past.

And now…

My secret was no longer mine.

Elena

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

The picture on Alexander’s phone stared back at me like a ghost from a life I had spent years trying to bury.

It wasn’t a bad picture.

That almost made it worse.

Because it looked normal.

It looked harmless.

Me.

Three years younger.

Standing outside a hospital.

A tired smile on my face.

A folder clutched against my chest.

But I knew what was behind that picture.

I knew what that moment meant.

And judging by the way Alexander was looking at me…

I knew he was starting to understand that there was a story I had never told him.

“Elena.”

His voice was softer now.

Too soft.

I hated that.

I would have preferred anger.

Anger was easier.

Anger meant distance.

But concern?

Concern meant he cared.

And caring was dangerous.

I looked away.

“Where did you get that?”

“Answer my question first.”

My eyes snapped back to his.

“What question?”

“What happened three years ago?”

Silence.

The room suddenly felt too small.

Too warm.

Too exposed.

I crossed my arms, trying to create a barrier between us.

“There’s nothing you need to know.”

His expression hardened.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Shut me out.”

The words hit harder than they should have.

Because that was exactly what I was doing.

It was what I always did.

Whenever someone got too close, I built walls.

Higher.

Stronger.

Impossible to climb.

“I’m not shutting you out.”

“Yes, you are.”

He stepped closer.

“And I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice.”

My heart skipped.

Alexander Blackwood noticed everything.

Every tiny change in my expression.

Every nervous habit.

Every time I avoided looking at him.

He noticed.

“You don’t get to know everything about me,” I whispered.

His jaw tightened.

“Why?”

“Because some things are better left buried.”

His eyes studied me.

“Is that what you believe?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

The confidence in his answer made me frown.

“No?”

“No.”

He moved closer until there was barely any space between us.

“Because I know what it looks like when someone is carrying something alone.”

My breath caught.

“Alex…”

“I spent years doing the same thing.”

His voice dropped.

“Pretending I was fine. Pretending I didn’t need anyone. Pretending if I ignored the pain long enough, it would disappear.”

I looked at him.

And for a second, I forgot he was talking about himself.

Because he was talking about me too.

“You’re not the only person with scars, Elena.”

My eyes softened.

That was the thing about Alexander.

Everyone thought he was cold.

The Ice King.

But they didn’t see this side.

The side that cared too much.

The side that felt everything but hid it better than anyone.

My phone suddenly buzzed.

I looked down.

Unknown number.

Another message.

My stomach dropped.

You really thought you could run forever?

Then another photo appeared.

This time, it wasn’t just me.

It was Alexander.

Standing outside my old workplace.

Looking at me.

The date was from months ago.

Before we were close.

Before I even realized he was paying attention to me.

My hands started shaking.

Alexander noticed immediately.

“What is it?”

I didn’t answer.

He took the phone gently from my hand.

His eyes scanned the screen.

And something inside him changed.

The calm disappeared.

The businessman disappeared.

The captain disappeared.

What remained was the man who protected what belonged to him.

“Who sent this?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who knows about your past?”

I swallowed.

“Very few people.”

“Names.”

His voice was firm.

Not cruel.

Not demanding.

Protective.

“Alex—”

“Elena.”

The way he said my name stopped me.

“I need the truth.”

I looked away.

Because the truth was ugly.

The truth was something I had spent years running from.

“Three years ago,” I began slowly, “I worked at a private rehabilitation clinic.”

Alexander listened silently.

“I was still finishing my studies. I was younger, inexperienced, and I thought helping people was enough.”

My fingers tightened.

“There was a patient.”

His expression changed slightly.

“What kind of patient?”

“A hockey player.”

The silence that followed was immediate.

I continued.

“He was talented. Famous. Everyone thought he was going to become one of the greatest players in the league.”

Alexander’s face became unreadable.

“What happened?”

I looked down.

“He got injured.”

A pause.

“And I was part of the team that treated him.”

“Was he a patient you were responsible for?”

“Yes.”

“Did something go wrong?”

The question hurt.

Because the answer was complicated.

“Yes.”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed.

“Elena.”

“I didn’t hurt him.”

The words came out quickly.

Almost desperately.

“I would never do that.”

“I know.”

His immediate answer surprised me.

I looked up.

“You don’t even know the whole story.”

“No.”

He stepped closer.

“But I know you.”

My heart betrayed me.

Because I believed him.

And that scared me.

“The injury became worse,” I whispered.

“The player blamed me.”

Alexander stayed quiet.

“The media got involved. People said I was careless. They said I ruined his career.”

My voice cracked.

“I lost everything.”

The room went silent.

“I lost my job. My reputation. My confidence.”

I laughed softly, but there was no humor.

“I spent months wondering if maybe they were right.”

Alexander’s face softened.

“But you weren’t.”

I looked at him.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“How?”

“Because I’ve watched you.”

His voice was certain.

“You spend every day trying to make sure my players are okay. You stay late. You research treatments. You remember every injury detail.”

A pause.

“Someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t do that.”

My eyes burned.

I hated how close I was to breaking.

I hated that Alexander was the first person in years who made me feel like maybe I didn’t have to fight alone.

Then his phone rang.

Again.

This time, he answered.

“Blackwood.”

His expression changed as he listened.

“What?”

A pause.

“Send me everything.”

He hung up.

“What happened?” I asked.

He looked at me.

“The person who sent those messages…”

My heart raced.

“They’re not just targeting you.”

A cold feeling moved through me.

“Then who?”

His eyes locked with mine.

“Me.”

I froze.

“What?”

Alexander placed the phone on the desk.

“The person who leaked my medical records and the person threatening you are connected.”

My stomach dropped.

“How?”

His expression became dark.

“Because they knew something neither of us knew.”

I waited.

“Someone has been watching us.”

The words sent chills down my spine.

“Why?”

Alexander looked at the picture again.

Then at me.

And his next words changed everything.

“Because three years ago, the player whose career you supposedly ruined…”

He paused.

“He was my brother’s teammate.”

My blood went cold.

“What?”

“And now he’s back.”

The room went silent.

“His name is Daniel Whitmore.”

My heart stopped.

Because I knew that name.

Everyone in the hockey world knew that name.

And Alexander’s next sentence shattered the last piece of safety I had left.

“He says you destroyed his life.”

A pause.

“And he wants revenge.”