His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 134

Olive’s POV

I pushed the door to the conference room open, and four pairs of eyes immediately turned to look at me.

Sophia. Stephanie. Jessica. Nina.

The Holy Trinity of making my life hell.

Well, two-fourth of it, anyway. Nina seemed professional enough. Jessica is savoring a crush. And Sophia… Sophia’s eyes tracked me like a predator watching prey, obviously irritated by my mere existence.

I didn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Instead, I walked toward my designated seat with my head held high, my materials organized, my game face firmly in place.

Everyone here was supposedly working toward one mission: assessing the candidates for the AI Quantum campaign and determining which strategic approach would yield the best results.

But I knew better.

This wasn’t just about business.

This was war.

Nina nodded at me as I sat down, her expression neutral but not unfriendly.

“Miss Monroe,” she said. “How has your strategic development been progressing?”

I gave her a confident smile-the kind I’d perfected over years of corporate meetings where I was underestimated.

“I’ve been able to create comprehensive insights regarding the A Quantum integration,” I said. “Including design concepts tailored to each candidate based on their performance analytics and public perception metrics. I’ve also developed a phased rollout strategy that maximizes both immediate impact and long-term brand sustainability.”

Nina’s eyebrows raised slightly, impressed despite herself.

“Excellent,” she said. “I look forward to your presentation.”

She turned to look at Sophia, whose eyes were still boring into me with that same hostility.

“Sophia, have you completed your creative concepts?” Nina asked. “We need to determine which approach will best serve the campaign objectives before-”

The door opened.

And the entire room seemed to freeze.

My eyes lifted automatically, pulled by some invisible force I couldn’t control.

And there he was.

Zane Mercer.

Walking into the conference room like he owned not just the building but the entire city beneath it.

He was wearing all black-dress shirt rolled up to his forearms, tailored pants that fit him like they’d been designed specifically for his body, leather shoes seems they haven’t being glazed by any perk of dust.

His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his hands through it recently. His jaw was tight, shadowed with the beginning of stubble. His blue eyes were cold, assessing, taking in everyone in the room with predatory precision.

And when those eyes finally landed on me, everything else ceased to exist.

My breath caught in my throat. My heart started pounding so hard I thought everyone could hear it. Heat flooded through my body-part fear, part anger, part something I refused to name.

The air between us crackled with tension so thick it was almost visible.

Seven days.

We hadn’t spoken in seven days.

And now here we were, in a professional setting, surrounded by people, forced to act like what had happened between us didn’t matter.

Like he hadn’t saved my stepfather’s company.

Like I hadn’t spent every night this past week thinking about him

Like seeing him again didn’t make me want to simultaneously kiss him and scream at him.

His eyes held mine for what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify