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82.

Author: Justina
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2025-10-18 22:50:27

Samantha’s POV

That earned a small grin from me. “And how many of those are there?”

He pretended to think. “Maybe one.”

I shook my head, smiling in spite of myself. “You’re smooth, you know that?”

“Not smooth,” he corrected, eyes twinkling. “Just honest.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, skeptical. “You must use that line a lot.”

“Only today,” he said lightly, “and only on ice champions who forget their poses mid-class.”

I laughed, caught between amusement and a faint flutter in my chest. He was charming, bu
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  • SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal    179.

    Anthony's POVAnother reporter raised a hand quickly.“And how many hours a day are you training currently?”Cole answered again without hesitation.“Between six to eight hours total,” he said. “On and off ice combined. Sometimes more depending on what needs correction.”A murmur moved through the room, but I barely heard it. My mind was still half inside the rink.Because what they did not see was the repetition behind those hours.The same lift done twenty times until it stopped feeling like effort and started feeling like instinct.The same jump entry corrected down to the smallest shift of weight.Samantha landing a throw, shaking her head once, and saying, “Again,” before I even asked.There were days when the rink felt endless.Not because we were tired.But because we refused to stop until it was right.Another reporter spoke up.“Do you ever worry about burnout with such an intense schedule so close to a major competition?”Cole leaned back slightly.“No,” he said. “Because th

  • SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal    178.

    Anthony's POVAnother reporter spoke up, raising his voice just enough to cut through the noise.“You both recently attended a festival in Paris. How was that experience, especially with everything happening around you? There were a lot of eyes on you during that time. Did the situation affect your focus at all?”Samantha answered this one.“It was an honor to represent our country,” she said. “No matter what is happening outside the rink, when we step onto the ice, we focus on our performance. That is what we did in Paris.”She spoke smoothly, like she had already decided what mattered and what did not. Like nothing had shaken her.I nodded. “We gave our best,” I added. “That is always the goal. Every time we step out there, we are not thinking about anything else. Just the routine. Just the execution.”Another reporter leaned forward quickly.“Are you satisfied with your performance there? Do you feel you delivered what was expected despite the pressure?”For a brief second, my mind

  • SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal    177.

    Anthony's POVThe room was already full when we walked in.Cameras. Lights. Voices layered over each other like noise that never settled. The moment we stepped onto the stage, the sound rose, sharper, louder, focused on us.I had been in rooms like this before. Press conferences after competitions, after wins, after losses. But this felt different.This was not about skating alone.This was about everything.I pulled out the chair beside Samantha and sat down, adjusting the microphone slightly. She sat next to me, posture straight, calm on the outside. Cole took the seat on her other side, his expression neutral, watchful.Flashes went off immediately.For a second, it felt like the courtroom had followed us here.“Anthony,” one reporter called out, not waiting to be recognized. “Your former partner Celeste took you to court regarding her injury earlier this season. Do you believe this case has affected your career trajectory in any way? Do you think the public judged you unfairly be

  • SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal    176.

    Anthony's POVCeleste sat rigid in her chair, her face pale but her eyes hard, unyielding.Mr. Daniels leaned slightly toward me and whispered, “Anthony, the evidence is clear. Stay calm. Let the truth speak.”Then the final piece of evidence was introduced: the official record of the performance. The timestamped footage, the exact angles, and the slow-motion playback. I leaned forward, watching as the panel followed along.“The critical moment is at 2:43 of the routine,” Daniels explained. “You can see Celeste adjusting the jump. Anthony reacts as fast as possible. The landing is altered by her movement. This is not a failure of Anthony’s skills, but a result of the split-second adjustment.”The panel members nodded, murmuring quietly among themselves. The judge scribbled notes. My chest loosened. This was what I had been hoping for. The truth was visible, undeniable in the video.“Based on all evidence, it is clear,” Daniels concluded, “that Anthony Vale performed as expected under

  • SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal    175.

    Anthony's POVThe next witness was called by the defense. A former elite skater and current analyst of competitive pairs, he had studied the exact routine for hours. He carried a tablet with him, showing video stills frame by frame.“Mr. Jameson,” Mr. Daniels said, “please walk the court through what happened during the throw that caused Ms. Harrison to fall.”Jameson tapped the screen. “At this moment, you can see Celeste begins a slight rotation adjustment in mid-air. The change is subtle but enough that Anthony’s timing, trained for the original element, is offset by less than half a second. That fraction is enough to make a perfectly skilled catch impossible.”He scrolled slowly, showing the frames. I leaned forward slightly, seeing the motion frozen, seeing the split-second differences I remembered clearly.“Was Anthony at fault here?” Daniels asked.“No,” Jameson replied. “He reacted instantly. The fall was caused by the sudden adjustment, not by any deficiency on his part.”A w

  • SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal    174.

    Anthony’s POV I could see Celeste’s lips curl slightly, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She was confident, assured, ready for this to go her way. I had to stay calm. I had to hold steady.Mr. Daniels continued with care, “Mr. Carter, is it not true that any fall in figure skating, particularly during high-risk throws, carries inherent risk for both athletes? That even the most careful execution can still result in injury?”“Yes,” he said, though Carter added quickly, “but proper timing reduces risk.”“Correct,” Daniels said, nodding slightly. “And is it possible that Anthony was fully prepared, performing as trained, but the risk inherent to the maneuver still resulted in an accident?”Mr. Carter paused again, then nodded slowly. “It is possible.”I allowed myself a tiny exhale, just small, almost unnoticeable. Another small crack in the wall of accusations.Daniels pressed on, softly, deliberately, “Mr. Carter, you mentioned watching the footage and noting that Anthony’s reactio

  • SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal    93.

    Anthony’s POVIsaac nudged me lightly. “Dude,” he murmured, “you seeing what I’m seeing?”“Unfortunately, yeah.” My voice came out tighter than I intended, the words pressed between my teeth.Across the room, I watched Celeste. I could already see cameras starting to shift toward her, reporters per

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  • 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 b

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  • SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal    94.

    Anthony’s POV I swallowed the sharp retort that rose up. Samantha didn’t seem to notice; she was busy nodding politely to another question about choreography and team chemistry. But I caught the way Celeste’s eyes lingered on her, assessing, dissecting,like she was already writing the headline in

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  • SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal    83.

    Samantha’s POVLogan stood a few feet away, casual as ever, with that same smug grin I remembered too well. His hair was shorter now, the dark waves neatly trimmed instead of wild, and his jaw had sharpened with time, but his eyes. God, those eyes. Cold, assessing, like they were always measuring

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