His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 77

OLIVE’s POV

The second those steel doors opened, a sound hit me hard.

The sound of engines roaring. Tires screeching. People screaming and cheering and shouting in this alignment which sounded so chaotic: Yes, a chaotic symphony that made my ears ring and my heart race.

The space was massive, so much bigger than I’d imagined. Old subway tunnels designed into this life breathing thing that had LED strips running along the walls that changed from blue to red to white depending on what was happening on the track below.

And the track. God, the track.

It all joined together through the tunnels in this eight figure pattern, tight corners and straightaways where cars were currently going so fast they looked like stars were shooting in the runaway.

But what really caught my attention were the glass boxes suspended above everything-these individual viewing cubicles hanging from the ceiling on what looked like hydraulic platforms, some lowered close to the action, others raised high for an aerial view.

People were in them. Drinking. Watching. Some of the boxes ha tinted glass and I didn’t want to think about what was happening inside those.

This way.” Zane said, his hand firm on my lower back, guiding me through the crowd.

People parted for him automatically. Some nodded. Some called out “Apex!” like it was a name. He didn’t acknowledge any of them, just kept moving forward with this single-minded focus

We were walking toward an elevator when I saw him.

Or rather, almost crashed directly into him.

“Shit-sorry-I started to say, then stopped.

Because the man I’d nearly run into was staring at me with the same complicated expression I probably had on my face.

Walter.

My father.

Standing there in dark jeans and a leather jacket that was always his signature, looking completely at home in this illegal underground racing club like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And even though I knew-had known since that confrontation a my father’s place-it was still hard to actually see him here. To witness the reality of it instead of just knowing it in my head.

“Olive. His voice was careful, measured, like he was bracing himself.

“Dad” I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly tight.

We both just stood there staring at each other, the noise of the club fading into the background, as my brain tried to reconcile the father I’d known half my whole life with the man standing in front of me now.

Knowing he worked here and seeing him here were two completely different things.

I-He cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect you to actually come

“Zane invited me.” My voice sounded small even to my own ears I wanted to see it. To understand.”

“Understand, he repeated, and something painful flickered across his face. “Olive, I know finding out about all this was-”

“It’s still weird,” I interrupted softly. “Seeing you here. Like this. I know you told me or Zane did. I know I found out the truth But it’s different actually being here and watching you… exist in this world.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m still your father.”

The words hit sharp, and for a second It felt as if I was nauseous He’d hardly acknowledged himself to be my father ever since the divorce and now he did that here. In a loud wild ass club.

Yes you are.” That was the only thing I could say. But standing here, watching him look so comfortable in a place that represented everything I’d never known about him, or maybe I never did, but it still made my chest ache.

“It’s just going to take some getting used to. All of it.”

“Does it change anything?”

“I don’t know.” I looked up at him. “Does it change anything thatm still processing the fact that my boring, strait-laced father has been running security and management for an illegal racing club for over a decade?”

“Not to me,” he said simply. “Walter’s choices are his own. Just like yours are yours.”

“And my choice is to be here.”

Then stop overthinking it. He pulled me closer. “Right now, I want to show you something.”

The elevator rose, and when the doors opened, we stepped into hallway lined with doors-each one leading to a private Viewing cubicle, I realized.

Zane led me to one at the end marked “APEX” and pushed it open.

The cubicle was bigger than I’d expected. Plush leather seating that curved along the glass wall, a full bar in the corner, climate control that made the space comfortable despite the hear from the track below.

And the view.

God, the view.

The entire track spread out beneath us, cars already lining up for the next race, the crowd going wild in anticipation.

“Sit.” Zane said, settling into the center of the curved seating.

I sat beside him, and immediately his hands were on my waist, ting me up and repositioning me so I was straddling his lap, facing the glass.

“Zane-”

“Trust me,” he said against my ear, his hands settling on my thighs, fingers tracing patterns that made me shiver. “We’re going to make this interesting.”