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2025-09-14 22:21:38
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SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 109.
Anthony’s POVThe smell of waxed floors and cold air filled the changing room, that familiar blend of chlorine, polish, and the faint sting of menthol from someone’s forgotten balm. It was quiet except for the faint drip of water from the ceiling pipe and the sound of my own heartbeat hammering against my ribs. The metal bench under me felt colder than it should’ve been. Maybe it was just me. I couldn't hold it anymore, so I stood up.The door creaked open, and the echo of soft footsteps followed. Samantha’s reflection appeared in the mirror across from me before she did, her hair still damp from training, pulled into a messy bun, her warm-up jacket half-zipped. She looked tired. Not the kind of tired that came from skating for hours, but the kind that sat behind the eyes, the kind that came from worry. I didn’t know if it was about me, or if she was still shaken by her encounter with Logan during the press conference. The thought alone made my jaw tighten that I wanted to now
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 108.
Anthony's POVMy throat tightened, irritation and fear twisting together into something raw. “I didn’t drop her,” I said, slower this time, like repeating it could make reality remember its place. “That lift? We’ve done it hundreds of times. She turned her blade too early to change the routine. She panicked.”Cole jerked forward like his body couldn’t sit still anymore. “Okay but… there has to be someone who saw. A witness.” His hand sliced the air. “One of the coaches, staff, anybody. Someone who can back this up.”For a second, hope flared in the room, thin, fragile, like a match in wind. I felt it, too. Because if someone else had seen the angle of her blade, the timing of her rotation…It wouldn’t just be my word. I wouldn’t have to stand alone against her narrative.But then Isaac exhaled slowly, the kind of sound that shut doors. “Most of the staff were prepping the ice on the other rink. It was a closed session. You know that.”That hope fizzled, shrank, folded into something t
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 107.
Anthony’s POV“I didn’t hesitate,” I said again, slower this time, voice low and shaking with anger I barely kept caged. “She shifted too soon. Her blade wasn’t anchored. I felt it. I reacted. I tried to catch her.”“And yet she fell,” Marlin replied softly, almost gently. He wasn’t accusing me. He didn’t have to. The paperwork on that table was doing it for him.A thick silence settled like smoke.My nails dug into the arm of the chair. “She knows the truth.” I muttered.A bitter laugh bubbled in my chest, but it tasted like grief. “We trained together for years. She knows how I skate. She knows I don’t… I wouldn’t … do something like this.”Cole rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s desperate, man. Or angry. Maybe both. But going after your sight? That’s not a normal claim. That’s personal.”I swallowed, and it hurt. My vision, the one thing I worked every damn day to protect. Eye tests, supplements, rest schedules, specialists, everything to make sure a my condition never came back t
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 106.
Anthony’s POVIf silence could bleed, the room would’ve been red, dripping down the walls, pooling around our feet, staining everything it touched.I sat at the head of the conference table, sleeves rolled to my elbows, tie loose because what was the point? Pressure was already tightening around my neck like hands I couldn’t peel off.The blinds were half-drawn. Thin strips of afternoon light sliced across the glass table, landing on polished wood and chrome like this room wanted to pretend today was normal. Like it wanted to lie to us.But nothing about this was normal.Cole sat to my right, one leg bouncing like he was trying to shake the anxiety off him and send it into the floor. His fingers tapped on the side of his water bottle, too fast, too uneven. He only did that when things were really bad.Isaac sat across from him. Phone face-down. Jaw tight. His eyes were sharper than I’d seen in months, not angry, not exactly worried, but focused in a way that meant: If we don’t handle
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 105.
Samantha’s POV I knew him. Too well. If there was one thing Logan wasn’t, it was a dog. He didn’t go sniffing around old bones once he dropped them. He didn’t go back to his vomit; his words, once, sharp and careless during one of our late-night arguments about loyalty on and off the ice. The memory hit like a slap, cold and humiliating even now. If I was the thing he threw away so easily, why would he suddenly see value in it again? No. It didn’t make sense. The world would crack in half before Logan admitted he wanted something he decided was beneath him. Unless… unless it wasn’t about wanting me.A worse thought flickered, maybe it was about winning. About possession. About proving he could still have me if he wanted. And somehow, that possibility twisted harder than anything else.“Why would he…?” I started, but she lifted a hand, tiny gesture, sharp like a blade.“He’s obsessed, Samantha,” she muttered, jaw tight. “Obsessed.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “And he wo
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 104.
Samantha’s POVI knew what I was stepping into when I agreed to pair skating, when I stepped back into Anthony’s world, to his side, onto that ice. I knew who came before me. Who he rose with. Who he fell with. Who half the world still saw when they looked at him.I’d told myself I wasn’t competing against a ghost.Except ghosts didn’t show up at press conferences in designer coats and perfect eyeliner. Ghosts didn’t stare you down like they owned a part of your history, and your future. Ghosts didn’t make your chest tighten in ways you wished were only nerves.Ghosts didn’t feel real enough to breathe the same air and pull shadows behind them.I straightened my shoulders, lifting my chin even though my stomach felt like someone had tightened a screw in the middle of it. “I’m not a replacement. I’m his partner.”My voice didn’t shake. I was stupidly proud of that.Tasha’s laugh wasn’t sharp or cruel. In fact, it surprised me. Soft, tired, almost knowing. “Yeah,” she said, looking down
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