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2025-10-07 20:27:26
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SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 92.
Anthony’s POVCeleste was the last person I expected to see that morning.At first, I thought I was imagining things , maybe it was the glare from the overhead lights, the nerves twisting my stomach before the conference. But then she moved, graceful and deliberate, threading through the rows of chairs like she’d never left this world, like she hadn’t spent the last few months in physical therapy learning how to walk again.I saw the faint shine of her auburn hair, the same familiar tilt of her chin she used to give me before a jump , confident, teasing, sure of herself. She adjusted her press badge and took a seat in the front row, crossing her legs neatly beside another reporter. Her posture was calm, professional, detached… but I knew that mask. I knew her too damn well.I blinked once. Twice.What the hell was she doing here?Celeste Archer , my ex-partner, and I meant it in every sense, the girl who used to lace my skates before every competition , sitting there like she b
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 91.
Anthony’s POV Samantha froze for half a second, just long enough for me to notice. Then she smiled that press-friendly smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s a big field this year,” she said, calm and diplomatic as ever. “Everyone’s bringing their best. We just focus on our own skating.”The perfect non-answer.Logan, of course, couldn’t resist. He leaned into his mic, his smile just shy of a smirk. “Oh, come on, Sam,” he drawled, voice smooth and oily. “Don’t be modest. You love a little competition.”A few reporters laughed, the kind of low, eager chuckle that said this was the moment they were waiting for, blood in the water.I turned my head slowly, locking eyes with Logan. My voice came out low and steady. “We love fair competition.”The laughter died almost instantly.He blinked, still smiling, but his jaw tightened just slightly. I leaned back in my seat, letting the silence stretch before I spoke again, loud enough for the microphones to pick up every word.“
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 90.
Anthony’s POV I felt the muscle in my jaw tick. Samantha’s lips curved, but her fingers tightened around the microphone.“Traffic,” she said smoothly, without missing a beat. “You know how unpredictable it can be here.”A few chuckles rippled through the room. Her tone was light, easy, perfectly believable, if you didn’t know her.If you hadn’t spent the past three seasons watching her show up five minutes before call time, hair still damp from the shower, pretending everything was under control.I forced a tight smile and added, “At least she made it in one piece. Wouldn’t want to start the season without her.”The reporters laughed, but my voice came out a little sharper than I intended. Cole shot me a look that said careful.Another journalist jumped in. “Samantha, since you mentioned traffic, how do you manage to balance the off-ice routines and still make it on time for everything? Must be hard with all your other commitments.”She gave a small laugh that didn’t quite reach her
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 89.
Anthony’s POV Logan turned the moment we approached, flashing that perfectly rehearsed smile that made my stomach twist. “Well, if it isn’t the American favorites,” he drawled, voice dipped in sarcasm. “Glad you could make it, Sam.”I stopped mid-step, forcing myself not to react. Samantha stiffened beside me, her lips pressing into a thin line, the kind she used when she was one second away from saying something that’d make headlines.“Logan,” she greeted coolly, not bothering to match his fake smile. Her voice was so calm it almost sounded polite, almost.He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other like he owned the place. His gaze slid to me with lazy amusement. “Good to see you too, Vale. Heard your partner likes to make an entrance.”My teeth ground together. I could feel Cole tense a little beside us, probably anticipating the explosion about to happen. “At least my partner shows up to compete,” I said evenly, meeting his stare.His smirk widened, the kind that
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 88.
Anthony's POVIsaac immediately straightened beside me. “Finally,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. “I was about to send a search party.”I didn’t say anything. I just leaned back in my chair, arms folded, pretending to read the schedule packet on the table. But my jaw was tight enough to crack. The minute I saw her walking in, hair a little messy from the wind, jacket half-zipped, cheeks flushed like she’d sprinted across the parking lot, I felt that familiar mix of irritation and relief. Mostly irritation.Samantha scanned the room, her gaze flitting over the sea of suits, cameras, and glinting lenses before landing on us, on me. For a second, she hesitated, like she could feel the storm brewing behind my face. Then, with that signature mix of confidence and reckless grace that only she could pull off, she made her way over.“Hey,” she said softly, stopping just in front of me. Her voice had that slightly breathless edge, like she’d been rushing. “I know I’m late, but, ”“Save
SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal 87.
Anthony’s POVThe truth was, I didn’t know why I was so worked up. Maybe it was because I’d spent the last few weeks trying to rebuild this partnership from scratch, learning to trust her again after everything. Or maybe it was because Logan’s words hit too close to the insecurities I didn’t like to admit I had.Ethan. The yoga guy.The name rolled around in my head like a splinter I couldn’t dig out. I’d seen it flash across Samantha’s phone screen once , Ethan Calling. It was right after practice, when we were both half-dead from the new lift sequence. She’d been sitting beside me on the bench, catching her breath, strands of hair sticking to her temples. Her phone had buzzed, she’d glanced at it, and her expression had softened , just a little, but enough for me to notice.She answered quickly, voice lighter than it ever was with me. “Hey,” she’d said, smiling in that easy way that always disarmed people. I’d pretended not to listen, tugging at my laces, but every word stuck.
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