Lahat ng Kabanata ng SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal : Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

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

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 her head.Another reporter piped up, sensing the tension. “Celeste, since you’ve mentioned the new teams,how do you feel seeing your former partner compete again, this time with Samantha Meadows?” she asked.Celeste’s lips curved into something that might have passed for a smile if you didn’t know her. I did. And that wasn’t a smile, it was the calm before the storm.“Oh, Anthony’s always been adaptable,” she said lightly. “He adjusts quickly. Doesn’t waste time looking back.”I felt Samantha shift beside me, her posture stiffening. The jab was subtle enough to slip past most people, but not her. Not me.I forced my voice steady, offering the cameras a tight grin. “That’s the point of compe

Anthony’s POV The photo hit harder than I expected ,me, leaving the hospital parking lot, dressed down in clothes I thought would make me invisible. Sunglasses. Cap pulled low. Shoulders hunched like I was trying to disappear. I remembered that day ,the way the sun had felt too sharp, how every noise seemed to stab at the edges of my head. The way I’d just wanted to get home before anyone saw me.Guess that had worked out great.Then another photo flashed up. Me again ,standing beside my car, in another cloth, phone pressed to my ear, exhaustion written all over my face. I looked pale, older, like the weight of the world was hanging off me. And in a way, it was.So they had followed me twice to the hospital. Damn! How the hell had I not noticed someone trailing me. I could swear that I had been very careful.The sound in the room changed ,no longer polite curiosity, but something heavier. Whispers. Shuffling. The low hiss of people trying to make sense of what they were seeing. Ever

Anthony’s POVThe words stung. More than I wanted to admit. “That wasn’t the plan,” I said tightly. “Samantha was just, available. She fit the program, Isaac chose her not me. The timing worked.”Celeste arched a brow. “The timing,” she repeated, her voice soft, mocking. “Right. You always did have impeccable timing.”My pulse thudded in my ears. “You’re twisting this,” I said, taking a step back before I said something I couldn’t take back. “You’re mad because you can’t control the story anymore. You think I’m trying to replace you, but I’m not. I never could.”For a second, just a second, her expression shifted. Something sharp flickered across her face before she smoothed it away.“Then why does it look like you already did?” she whispered.The question landed between us like a blade dropped point-first into ice; silent, but lethal.I swallowed hard, jaw tightening until it ached. I didn’t have an answer for that, not one that wouldn’t make everything worse.Because the truth was…I

Anthony’s POV “That’s not fair,” I snapped. “You asked me to keep skating. You told me not to throw away a season because of you.” My chest tightened, the memory sharp and bitter. “I did what you asked. I listened to you. So please Celeste, stop making things up.”Her eyes flashed, just for a second, that old fire breaking through the practiced calm. “You think I made it up?” she said, her voice tightening. “You think I don’t verify my sources?”I laughed then, humorless. “Sources?” My voice dropped, low and accusing. “Don’t insult me, Celeste. I know exactly what that was. You fed a blogger pretending to be a journalist and had him throw medical accusations at me on camera.” My pulse kicked up, anger finally overriding shock. “You really teamed up with some hack to say I hid an eyes condition? To ruin me because you couldn’t stand seeing me skate again?”She didn’t flinch, but her jaw locked. Just enough for me to know I’d hit truth. “You think I’d sabotage myself just to hurt you