His Dangerous Love On Ice

Chapter Two: Olive's POV

Chapter 2 - OLIVE's POV

"My nemesis?" I stared at Grayson. "What are you, a supervillain?"

"He's the NHL's top player," Mom said carefully. "And he made Grayson's life hell. That man did things that forced him to leave coaching entirely."

I'd heard vague stories over the years. Someone powerful and untouchable who'd destroyed his career. But I'd never heard an actual name.

Zane Mercer.

Top player for the Chicago Wolves.

The last person Grayson wanted me thinking about.

I stared at the photo again. Those cold blue eyes, that dangerous jaw, the body that looked like sin poured into human form.

At least if I had to spend a week in Chicago watching my ex pretend I didn't exist, there'd be something worth looking at.

I closed the magazine and stood up, tucking it under my arm.

"Fine. I'll go to Chicago."

Mom blinked. "Really?"

"Really." I met Grayson's eyes. "I promised Hunter I'd be there. I'm not breaking that promise because Cole's a piece of shit."

Relief crossed Grayson's face.

"Besides," I added, "maybe watching some hockey will help me move on."

"I'm not going. What the f**k was I thinking?"

I slammed my forehead against my desk. Making life decisions based on a magazine photo? New low, even for me.

Brenda didn't look up from her computer. "You can't back out. You already agreed."

"I got motivated to go because of some hot guy in a magazine. That's insane."

"And?" She was still typing. "Perfectly reasonable. Not every day someone finds their rebound that fast."

"I'm not trying to rebound—"

"To what? Sit here and convince yourself Cole cheating was your fault?" She stopped typing and looked at me. "I can already see it happening."

She was right.

"What if I wasn't there enough for him? What if—"

"Stop. Stop right there." Brenda stood and leaned against my desk. "Stop being a little b***h crying over mediocre dick."

My mouth snapped shut.

"Cole Maddox is mediocre at hockey, mediocre in bed—yes, you told me, wine drunk, don't deny it—and mediocre at being faithful. You spent two years freezing your ass off at his practices. You drove three hours to watch him warm benches. And this is how he repays you? f**k him."

"I know, but—"

"But nothing. You're going to Chicago. You promised Hunter. That promise had nothing to do with Cole."

She was right. Hunter had been asking me to come to games for months. I'd promised before any of this happened.

"Okay, I get it."

"Good. Now stop—" She stopped mid-sentence, eyes locking on something behind me. "Oh shit."

I turned.

The TV.

Cole's face filled the entire screen.

He looked good. Perfect blonde hair, gray eyes like silver under the cameras.

But that wasn't what made my stomach drop.

Because tucked under his arm was a woman.

Stunning. Blonde hair in perfect waves, red dress hugging every curve.

She was laughing, head thrown back, hand on Cole's chest like she owned him.

And that hair looked exactly like the hair I'd seen on that video call.

"Cole Maddox spotted last night with his alleged girlfriend, Sophia Mercer, aboard a private cruise."

White text appeared beneath her face.

Sophia Mercer, 23.

Mercer.

"She's related to him," I whispered.

Brenda's fingers flew across her keyboard. "Let me check—oh. Oh f**k, Olive."

She turned her monitor toward me.

Zane Mercer - Top NHL player for the Chicago Wolves. One sister: Sophia Mercer, 23.

There was a photo. Action shot. Zane on the ice, helmet off, hair dark with sweat, jaw clenched, eyes blazing.

He looked dangerous. Powerful. Untouchable.

And I'd seen this photo before.

The realization slammed into me.

Six months after Cole and I started dating. I'd been looking for a pen in his practice bag when I found a photo tucked in his notepad. Folded. Hidden.

This photo.

"Who's this?" I'd asked.

Cole had snatched it from my hands, face going red.

"Don't touch that. Don't ever go through my stuff, Olive."

He'd kissed my forehead after, said he was stressed. But he never explained.

And I'd forgotten about it.

Until now.

"I've seen him before," I whispered.

"What?"

"Zane. Cole had this photo. Hidden in his bag. A year and a half ago."

Brenda's eyes went wide. "So Cole's been obsessed with Zane your entire relationship?"

"He's with Sophia to get close to Zane."

"That makes perfect sense." Brenda pulled up Sophia's i********:. "Look."

Photo after photo. Sophia at games, VIP boxes, surrounded by players. And in several of them, standing slightly out of focus—

Zane.

"I was never enough because I wasn't connected to the right people."

"Hey." Brenda grabbed my face. "Don't. Cole is a social-climbing piece of s**t. You were too good for him."

My phone buzzed.

An email. From Cole.

I didn't want to open it.

But I did.

I'm sorry, Olive. I never meant for things to end this way. But I've reached a new level in my career, and I need someone who can match that. Someone capable of helping me grow. You were great for where I was, but I need more now. I hope you understand.

The phone slipped from my fingers.

Someone capable.

After two years, he was telling me I wasn't capable enough.

Brenda snatched my phone, her face shifting to pure fury. "After you caught him cheating—he sends you a breakup email calling you incapable?"

I couldn't breathe.

"Wait. There's more." She scrolled on her own phone. "I've been looking into him. Found tagged photos he tried to untag. Olive. Look."

A photo. Cole with a woman.

Red hair. Not Sophia. Someone else.

Beach house, arms wrapped around each other, kissing.

Timestamp: nine months ago.

"Nine months," I whispered.

"There's another. Two months ago. Different girl. f**k, there are at least five women in the past year."

I stared at the screen. At the proof.

"You're going to that game." Brenda's eyes were fierce. "You're walking in looking devastating. Head high."

"I don't want revenge—"

"This isn't revenge. This is about remembering who the f**k you are." She squeezed my arm. "You're Olive Monroe. You're smart, you're beautiful, and you don't take s**t from mediocre men."

I looked at that email again.

Someone capable.

Fuck him.

"I'm going," I said.

Brenda grinned. "That's my girl."

"I'm going to support Hunter. And I'm going to look so f*****g good that if Cole sees me, he chokes on his own bullshit."

For the first time since that video call, my chest didn't feel like it was caving in.

It felt like anger.

I looked back at Zane's photo on Brenda's screen. Those cold blue eyes. That dangerous energy radiating even through a picture.

The man whose sister Cole was using. The man my stepfather hated. The man who'd somehow gotten tangled in all of this without knowing I existed.

"And what about Zane?" Brenda asked, a slow smile spreading.

I stared at his photo, at those piercing eyes that seemed to see straight through me even from a screen.

"I think," I said slowly, "Zane is exactly who I should be thinking about."