His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 55

Zane’s POV

The second I stepped out of my private garage, I tossed the keys to the valet without looking at him.

The company building loomed ahead-another constructed part of my life I didn’t give a damn about. Sometimes I wondered if anything about my existence was real, or if I’d just become so good at playing roles that I’d forgotten which one was actually me

But the flash of cameras, the noise of staff scrambling as I walked past, the weight of eyes watching my every move-that told me it was real.

I was stuck in it.

“Mr. Mercer, the board is waiting in the conference room.” My assistant appeared at my elbow, tablet clutched to her chest. “But before that, your father wants to see you in his office.”

I didn’t slow down. “Tell him I have a meeting to attend.”

I kept walking toward the private elevator that led directly to the executive floor, swiping my key card.

“Your father insisted, sir. He said if you didn’t come, I should-”

“You’re fired.”

I stepped into the elevator without looking back at her.

The doors began to close and I caught a glimpse of her face-shock, confusion, that moment of realization that she’d just lost her job. But I didn’t care. However long it took her to process that she was done here wasn’t my problem.

The elevator opened directly into my office lounge.

My secretary was already there, coffee in hand, extending it to me before I’d fully stepped out.

“You have a visitor,” she said quietly. “In your office.”

My head snapped toward her. “A visitor? In my office? Before I even arrive?”

It wasn’t a question. I already knew who it was.

My jaw tightened.

The office doors slid open automatically.

Standing there, back to me, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, was my brother.

Antonio.

He turned slowly, arms spread wide, that infuriating smile already plastered across his face. Those glasses he wore-the ones I was convinced were fake, just another prop in whatever performance he was giving today.

“Hello, brother.”

He started walking toward me like he owned the place. Like he hadn’t just broken into my private office without permission.

I walked past him to my desk, sitting down and taking a long gul of scalding coffee. I enjoyed the burn on my lips, the way it grounded me.

“Come on, Zane.” Antonio leaned against the chair across from e, arms crossed. “You should be excited to see me”

He looked the same as always. Same arrogant posture. Same need for attention. The baby of the family who’d followed me into hockey, who’d joined the company because I had, who’d spent his entire life trying to prove he was better than me while never quite managing it.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” He was grinning now, that competitive edge sharpening his voice. “The Boston Vipers just won against the Seattle Thunder. And the NIIL is considering us for the international playoffs. First time in franchise history” He leaned forward, hands bracing on the edge of my desk. “You know what that means, Zane?”

I said nothing. Just watched him.

“It means I finally get to compete against your indestructible Chicago Wolves. I get to have a real game with you. Not practice. Not scrimmages. A real fucking game where everyone’s watching.”

I could hear it underneath the bravado-the anger he tried to he. The resentment that I’d always been better, always been first, always been the one Father paid attention to even when he hated me.

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