Zane’s POV
Two days.
It had been two days since Olive kicked me out of her apartment and I was losing my fucking mind.
I’d given her space before. Given her time to cool off, to think, to come back to me on her own terms. But this felt different. This felt like she was slipping away and I couldn’t do a goddamn thing to stop it.
My phone sat on my desk, silent. No calls. No texts. Nothing.
I’d tried calling her yesterday. Three times. She’d declined every single one.
Maybe I should have told her about the truth from the beginning. That I never even knew anything about Cole and his endorsements. Maybe I should have done a lot of things differently.
But I hadn’t. Because I was selfish and possessive and I wanted her too much to care about anyone.
And that son of a bitch Cole had… I didn’t know what he had going up on is sleeves. Until the night at Olive’s apartment and I had had my men tracked every activities of his. But they found nothing.
And now, he… fakes that I took away his endorsement.
Oooh… he doesn’t know what he had just done.
He had fallen right into my trap.
The son of a bitch didn’t want to move on. Even while with my sister.
Now I was going to show him a taste of Zane.
I stared at the clock standing on my table right opposite my eyes level, and it reminded me of how much time I had with her.
Two months. That’s what we’d agreed on. Two months of her being mine, completely mine, and then we’d walk away.
Except… I didn’t want to walk away anymore.
I wanted to keep her. Wanted to lock her in my world and never let her leave. Wanted to own every piece of her until the thought of being without me made her physically sick.
Fuck.
I was obsessed.
I grabbed my phone, scrolling through our messages. The last one was from three days ago, before everything went to shit.
Muffin: You’re insufferable Me: You love it Muffin: Unfortunately
I stared at that word. Unfortunately. Like being with me was something she had to tolerate instead of something she wanted.
Maybe it was.
My phone buzzed in my hand and I answered without looking.
“What?” I snapped.
“Well, someone’s in a mood,” Walter’s voice came through. “Your phone’s been off for the past two days. What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“Bullshit.” Walter countered. “Diane called me screaming about the racing club. Said Olive knows. Said you’re corrupting her daughter. Said a lot of things I’m not going to repeat.”
I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes. “How did she find out.
“About the club? No fucking clue,” Walter said. “I sure as hell didn’t tell her. Haven’t spoken to that woman in months or maybe even years. But someone did. Someone wanted her to know.”
Someone.
The mysterious messages. The threats. The person who seemed to know everything about me and was slowly dismantling my life piece by piece., and yet I hadn’t tried figuring out who.
“I need you to find out who,” I said.
“Find out who told my ex-wife about your illegal racing operation?” Walter repeated. “Sure. Let me just call her up and ask. I’m sure that’ll go great.”
“I’m serious,” I said, my voice dropping. “Someone’s fucking with me. With Olive. With all of this. And I need to know who before they do more damage.”
Walter was quiet for a moment. “You think this is connected to the other stuff? The messages you’ve been getting?”
“Has to be,” I said. “Too much of a coincidence otherwise.”
“Alright.” Walter agreed. “I’ll see what I can dig up. But Zane? You need to fix things with Olive. Whatever’s going on between you two, fix it. Because if Diane has her way, Olive’s never speaking to you again. I know what Diane is capable of. She’s manipulative. Don’t trust those dimples.”
“I know,” I said.
“Do you?” Walter challenged. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re sitting in your home office feeling sorry for yourself instead of fighting for her.”
“She told me to leave,” I said. “She kicked me out.”
“So what?” Walter said. “You’re Zane fucking Mercer. You don’t take no for an answer. You fight. You strategize. You win. That’s what you do.”
He was right.
I ended the call and stared at my phone for another minute before making a decision.
I wasn’t going to call Cole about the information I needed. Was going to play that game. That was way too boring.
But I knew someone who would have the information I needed Someone who owed me a favor whether he wanted to admit it or not.
I scrolled through my contacts, found the name I was looking for, and pressed call.
It rang twice before he answered.
“Well, well,” the voice came through, thick with a Scottish accent. The king finally decided to call. Was wondering how long it would take.”
“Duncan.” I said flatly.
“Zane.” he replied, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
Duncan MacLeod. One of the most connected people in the hockey world. Not a player, not a coach, but something in between. The guy who made deals happen, who knew everyones secrets, who could get you anything you wanted for the right price.
“Which is?”
“Publicity,” Duncan said. “Attention. People talking about the Raptors like they’re actually a threat. Playing against you does. that. Win or lose, we come out looking good just for being on the same ice as Zane Mercer.”
It made sense. Calculated. Strategic.
Exactly the kind of move I would make.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll play your game. Now give me the information
“Not so fast,” Duncan said. “We’re not done negotiating.”
“What else do you want?”
“I want you to bring someone specific to play with you,” Duncan aid. “Ryan. Your cousin. I want him on the ice.”
My jaw tightened. “Why?”
“Because I do,” Duncan said simply. “And because if you want information about Cole, you’ll agree. Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.”
Ryan. My father’s golden child. The one he was grooming to follow in my footsteps, to be everything I refused to be.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Ryan plays.”
“Excellent,” Duncan said, satisfaction clear in his voice. “Now, about Cole Maddox. What exactly do you want to know?”
Fifteen minutes later, I ended the call with more information than I’d expected and a sick feeling in my stomach.
Cole had three more endorsement deals in the works. All of them because of his connection to Sophia. All of them dependent on their engagement remaining solid.
Duncan had also mentioned something else. Something about Cole making inquiries, asking questions about me, digging into my past.
That was concerning. Not immediately threatening, but concerning.
My phone buzzed with a text.
Unknown number.
My blood ran cold as I opened it.
Unknown: Playing games with Duncan now? How desperate. Bu it won’t help. She’s going to find out everything. And when she does, you’ll lose her forever.
I stared at the message, my hands tightening around the phone,
Whoever this was, they were watching. Listening. Knowing every move I made before I made it.
And they wanted Olive to hate me.
The question was why.

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