His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 200

200 /220

Olive’s POV

By the time I made it to the Mercer Company, it was almost three-thirty.

The meeting had started at three.

I was thirty minutes late.

My phone had been buzzing nonstop in my pocket-texts from Jessica asking where I was, missed calls from Nina’s assistant, notifications that I’d been marked absent from the mandatory meeting.

I didn’t care.

Let them think whatever they wanted. My mother had needed me, and that was more important than any corporate bullshit.

I parked and headed inside, my stomach churning with anxiety and dread and the overwhelming sense that I was walking into something I couldn’t control.

The conference room was on the executive floor…massive space with glass walls and expensive furniture and a view of the Seattle skyline that stretched out like the company owned the entire city.

I could see them through the glass before I even opened the door.

Nina at the head of the table, mid-presentation, gesturing at something on the screen behind her.

The creative team scattered along one side-Jessica, and of course Sophia’s minion Stephanie.

And on the other side, looking smug and perfectly put-together, sat Sophia.

But it was the woman sitting next to Sophia who made me stop in my tracks.

She was stunning.

Not just beautiful—stunning in a way that felt almost unreal, like she’d stepped out of a high-fashion magazine spread or a runway show in Paris.

Long dark hair fell in perfect waves past her shoulders, catching the light from the windows in a way that made it look almost liquid. Sharp cheekbones that could cut glass. Full lips painted a deep red that stood out against her pale skin. Eyes that were an unusual shade of amber-green, framed by thick lashes that had to be natural because no extensions looked that perfectly imperfect.

She wore a crisp white blouse tucked into tailored black pants…the kind of clothes that looked effortless but definitely weren’t, designer labels I couldn’t even pronounce, fabric that probably felt like butter against skin.

Everything about her screamed wealth and elegance and untouchable sophistication.

And she was staring directly at the door.

Directly at me.

Like she’d been waiting for me to arrive.

I pushed open the door and immediately felt every pair of eyes in the room turn toward me.

The presentation stopped mid-sentence.

Nina’s expression shifted from professional to annoyed.

“Olive,” she said, her voice clipped. “Good of you to finally join us.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, moving quickly to take the empty seat at the table. “Family emergency. It couldn’t be avoided.”

Nina’s expression softened slightly.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, her tone less harsh now.

“It will be,” I said, which wasn’t really an answer but was the best I could manage.

I slid into my seat, trying to ignore the way everyone was still looking at me, trying to pretend I wasn’t thirty minutes late to the most important meeting of the quarter.