His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 53

Cole’s POV

Almost a year ago, I’d gone grocery shopping with Olive.

It was one of her tiny favorite things to do-wandering through isles, comparing prices on cereal boxes, getting excited over vegetables like they were treasure. I’d hated it. Hated how domestic it felt, how ordinary. But I went because it kept her happy. Kept her contained.

And as long as she stayed contained-not buying expensive clothes, not dolling herself up, not drawing attention-I could control who looked at her. Who wanted her.

I was paying at the register when the cashier kept glancing at Olive, this stupid smile on his face.

“She’s cute,” he said, like I wasn’t standing right there. “Is she your sister? She could really be in one of those commercials. You know, like that energy drink ad with that hockey guy on the screen.”

My head turned toward the display behind the register.

And there he was.

Zane Mercer. Shirtless. Holding a hockey stick with one hand, an energy drink in the other, half his gear on to show off his chest and those goddamn tattoos. His face was everywhere lately-billboards, magazines, screens in every store.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

My chest constricted as my brain conjured an image I didn’t want. Olive standing next to him in that ad. Dressed up. Beautiful. Glowing the way she never glowed with me.

“Keep your eyes to yourself and mind your fucking business,” I smapped at the cashier. “She’s my girlfriend. Don’t you ever speak of such nonsense in front of her.”

I grabbed the grocery bag and shoved it at Olive, ignoring the look of concern and confusion on her face.

She’d asked me what was wrong in the car.

I told her nothing.

But the truth? The truth was that cashier had planted something in my head that day. Something I couldn’t shake. Couldn’t control.

The idea that Olive could be with someone like Zane Mercer.

The flashback hit me hard and I swung the golf club with too much force.

The ball rolled past the hole completely, stopping several feet away, the white surface mocking me.

My knuckles were white around the club grip, hands shaking slightly as I tried to control the anxiety creeping up my spine. The fear I’d been trying to avoid, to suppress, to bury under layers of careful planning.

But it kept coming back..

That image. Olive next to Zane. Olive choosing him. Olive looking at him the way she used to look at me before I broke her down into something manageable.

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping.

It couldn’t happen. It wouldn’t happen.

I’d make sure of it

My phone buzzed in the golf cart and I walked over, checking the screen. Unknown number, but I knew who it was.

A smile tugged at my lips. Calculated. Controlled.

“Is it ready?” I asked, staring at the white golf ball in the distance.

“Yes. I sent everything to your assistant.”

“Good.”

I ended the call.

Walking back to my bag, I selected another ball, positioned myself carefully, and swung. This time, the ball rolled smoothly across the green and dropped perfectly into the hole.

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