His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 142

Zane’s POV

She’d actually fucking gone.

Instead of calling me. Instead of confronting me about the company. Instead of demanding to know why I’d been such an asshole during her presentation.

She’d gone on a date with another man.

“Zane-”

“Where is she now.” I was already standing, already grabbing my shirt from the bench and pulling it on.

“Driving home, I assume. I told her you would find out. Gave her about an hour to prepare before you showed up.”

An hour.

I glanced at my watch. Nikolai had called fourteen minutes ago, which meant I had forty-six minutes before his warning expired.

More than enough time to get to her apartment.

“Zane, listen to me,” Nikolai said, his voice getting serious now. “Whatever you are about to do, think it through first. Do not go there angry. Do not say things you cannot take back.”

Too late.

I was already halfway to the locker room, already planning the fastest route to her building.

“I mean it,” Nikolai continued. “The girl is confused. Scared. She does not know how to handle what you did for her family. If you go there like this, you will push her away for good.”

“She went on a date with another man.” Each word came out sharp enough to cut. “I destroyed my own father. Made myself a target for every enemy he’s ever made. And she repays me by going on dates?”

“Yes,” Nikolai agreed. “And now you understand what it feels like.”

That stopped me cold.

“What.”

“To be used,” Nikolai said quietly. “To give everything and get nothing back. To sit and wait while someone you care about moves on without you. This is what you have done to women your entire life, Zane. And now it has been done to you.”

The words hit me.

Hard.

Sharp.

Landing exactly where it was meant to land.

Because he was right.

I’d spent years using women. Discarding them when I was done. Never giving them more than I was willing to lose.

And now Olive Monroe had done the same thing to me.

Had taken what she wanted-my protection, my money, my connections, her family’s salvation—and moved on to someone else.

Someone safer. Someone easier. Someone who wouldn’t come with all my baggage and complications and dangerous edges.

The rage that flooded my system was unlike anything I’d ever felt.

Not the cold, calculated anger I usually operated with. Not the controlled violence I used to destroy my enemies.

This was hot. Visceral. The kind of fury that made rational thought impossible.

“I have to go,” I said into the phone.

“Zane, do not—”

I hung up.

Shoved my phone in my pocket and grabbed my keys from the locker.

The drive to her apartment building was a blur. I barely registered the traffic lights or the other cars or the fact that I was definitely breaking several speed limits.

All I could think about was her.

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