His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 139

Olive’s POV

I couldn’t get out of that restaurant fast enough.

My heels clicked against the pavement as I speed-walked toward the parking garage, my breath coming in short bursts that had nothing to do with the pace and everything to do with the panic clawing up my throat.

Judy knew Klaus. Had known him for years. Had spoken to him the night before he died.

And he knew Zane.

The way he’d said it-like there was some connection I was missing, some puzzle piece I didn’t have-made my skin crawl.

I fumbled for my parking ticket in my purse, hands shaking so badly I almost dropped it twice. The valet had tried to flag me down when I’d burst through the restaurant doors, but I’d waved him off, mumbling something about needing to get my own car because I needed the walk, needed the air, needed to no be standing still while my brain tried to process what the hell had just happened.

The parking garage was nearly empty at this hour. Just a few expensive cars scattered across multiple levels, their paint jobs gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights.

My car was on the third level. Of course it was. Because nothing ould be easy tonight.

I hit the stairwell instead of waiting for the elevator, taking the concrete steps two at a time even though my dress was too tight and my heels were too high and I was definitely going to break my ankle doing this.

But I didn’t care.

I just needed to get to my car. Needed to get home. Needed to lock myself in my apartment and figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with the information Judy had just dumped on me.

Klaus and Zane knew each other.

My dead brother and the man I’d been trying not to think about for almost two weeks had some kind of connection that nobody had bothered to tell me about.

What were the odds? What were the actual fucking odds that I’d end up fake-dating-real-dating?-whatever the hell we’d been doing-with someone who had ties to my brother’s death?

My foot caught on the last step and I stumbled, catching myself on the railing hard enough that my palm stung.

“Fuck,” I hissed, pressing my free hand against my chest like that would somehow slow my racing heart.

Get it together, Olive. Just get to the car.

I pushed through the door to the third level and started walking toward where I thought I’d parked, squinting against the fluorescent lights that made everything look washed out and surreal.

My car was near the back. I could see it now-My Mercedes Ben

Almost there.

I was maybe ten feet away when I heard footsteps behind me.

Heavy. Deliberate. Getting closer.

Every self-defense lesson my mother had forced me to take in high school came flooding back. Don’t panic. Don’t run. Running makes you prey. Turn around. Face the threat. Make yourself big. Scream if you have to.

I spun around, my keys already positioned between my fingers like makeshift brass knuckles, ready to go for the eyes if I had to-

And stopped dead.

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