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Home / Romance / SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal / Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

All Chapters of SHATTERED ICE:One rink, bound by betrayal : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

205 Chapters

121.

Samantha’s POV I was too tired to argue, and honestly, my nerves were buzzing too much to eat properly. The festival wasn’t just a performance; it was a charity gala supporting visually impaired youth. Anna had been invited to attend, as a former skater who’s battling with an eye condition, but she refused because she didn’t want to “hover like a nervous parent.” Her words, not mine.“So… you packed everything?” Ryan asked, leaning slightly forward like he was bracing for an important answer.“Yes,” I said, taking a sip of tea. It was still too hot and burned my tongue, which somehow felt like the universe agreeing with my mood.He nodded quickly, as if this was step one of a very serious checklist he had personally created. “Good. Great. Very organised. So, um… need help carrying your bags? I can handle it.”“I’m fine,” I replied, trying not to sound like I was chewing glass.“Oh. Okay. Cool.” He nodded again, his fingers tapping a jittery rhythm on the table. “Cool. Cool.” Then he

122.

Samantha’s POVThe first thing I noticed when I stepped out of the cab was how loud everything felt.Noise hit me before the air even touched my face.Cameras popped like rapid gunfire near the airport entrance, a chaotic strobe of flashing lights. Voices rose and crashed over each other, forming messy waves of questions that slammed straight into my nerves. My own name. Anthony’s name. Words like scandal, replacement, partnership, rumors, sponsorship. None of it lined up cleanly in my head.I had told myself in the mirror that morning that I was ready. Prepared. Calm.But the moment the first reporter lunged forward, mic jutting toward me like a spear, every ounce of that confidence shattered, I froze.“There she is. Samantha Meadows, look here. Samantha, over here, is it true you and Anthony are training privately without Celeste’s approval?”“What happened to Celeste? Is she stepping down?”“Is it true Anthony handpicked you for something bigger?”“Is he replacing Celeste permane

123.

Samantha’s POV Anthony swore under his breath and shook his head. “This airport is a disaster. No organization, no crowd control. I told management to tighten security at the entrance. Obviously no one listened.” He mumbled.One of the guards shifted. “Sir, the entrance team said they were understaffed today.”Anthony shot him a glare that made the guard look at his shoes.He turned back to me. “Are you alright? You do not look shaken, but I need you to say it.” He asked in a concerned voice. I paused. It surprised me, his concern. Not overly dramatic, not forced. Just steady. Did he want something from me? Or was this simply just concern?“I’m fine,” I said quietly. “It was just… loud. And sudden.” I hesitated. “Is it always like this for international events?”“Usually worse,” he said. “Especially when there is a charity angle. They want stories, reactions, drama. This Expo is raising funds for visually impaired youths, and the media coverage is heavy. They treat it like some kind

124.

Samantha’s POV I tilted my head, unable to stop myself. “But the organizers can deny special arrangements, right? They set the rules. And if it’s for a cause supporting visually impaired youths… I mean, it’s not unreasonable.”Anthony paused long enough to shoot me a look. Not angry. Just… tense. Annoyed. Like my practicality was inconvenient.“Still,” he said, returning to Isaac. “This is ridiculous. We are expected to perform at a world-broadcast charity Expo, and their solution is to make us travel like tourists?”His voice rose with disbelief.“Do they understand how crucial timing is for elite athletes? We need rest. We need preparation. This is not a holiday.”I exhaled quietly. It was always like this with him, rehearsals, dressing rooms, performances… Anthony hated losing control of anything. Schedules, conditions, people. Every disruption felt like a personal attack to him.Meanwhile, I had spent most of my pre-Anthony career flying third-row economy on budget airlines, shar

125.

Samantha’s POV There was a moment of thick silence. He looked like someone had told him to perform his free skate in rental skates.I watched him rake a hand down his face. He looked genuinely offended by the idea, as if sharing a jet was not simply inconvenient but an insult to his entire career. I could practically feel the storm brewing under his skin.He took a step away, then back again, pacing. His fingers tapped against his thigh, a restless rhythm I recognized from training, his way of trying to stay in control.Meanwhile, I simply stood there feeling… relieved.I had flown public for years when I skated with Logan. Not business. Not first. Sometimes barely even economy, our knees squeezed against the seat in front of us, laughing about turbulence and cheap meals. It was not glamorous, but it had never mattered to me. The ice was what mattered. The performance. The cause. Not the seats.A private flight, even shared, felt like luxury. There was no choice here, especially if

126.

Samantha’s POVAnthony muttered a curse more quietly this time. “Fine. But if someone leaks pictures of me crammed on a shared jet, I swear…”“You will still get there,” Isaac interrupted sharply, then softened. “Look, I know this is not ideal. But it is our best option.”He let out a breath that sounded like surrender and frustration mixed together. “I just want to avoid unnecessary chaos before we get to the venue. That is all.”I nodded slowly. “Then we take the jet. It is either that or show up halfway into the program.”Anthony’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but something lighter than before. He ran both hands through his hair, exhaling through his nose.“If those Canadians start talking trash before we land, I am sitting in the cockpit,” he muttered.I almost laughed. Almost.Isaac rolled his eyes and checked his watch. “We leave in five minutes. Gather your things.” He muttered.I lifted my bag again, adjusting the strap over my shoulder. My hands no longer shook. The pan

127.

Samantha’s POVI climbed out of the private jet grumbling under my breath, a low, frustrated sound I did not even try to hide. At this point, it was safe to say that I regretted taking this flight, regardless of what I had said before. Though I wasn’t going to tell Anthony that.The flight had been a complete disaster. Cramped seats, no leg room, and air that felt too warm no matter how many times I pressed the tiny fan above me. It was supposed to be a smooth trip to Paris. Instead, it felt like the universe threw us into a flying box and shook us around for hours. The entire flight had been filled up before we even arrived, which meant we were forced to sit in whatever tiny leftover seats they could find. I could still feel the ache in my shoulders and lower back as we dragged ourselves out of the arrivals hall.Anthony looked worse. He had been irritated since we boarded and nothing improved after landing. His hair was messy, his eyes were half closed from exhaustion, and every

128.

Samantha’s POVAnthony muttered something under his breath, clearly irritated by the mention of formal wear, but I didn’t catch it. He was probably calculating every minute lost due to travel. My focus, however, was elsewhere.I let my gaze drift to my schedule again, trying to map out where I might find a solution, a quiet moment to figure out the dress situation. The thought of running through Paris in search of a gown while everyone else prepared for the gala made my head throb. What if the gala was not compulsory and I missed it?Anthony’s head snapped toward Cole. “Wait! What do you mean France is performing and not us?” he spat, his voice tight with irritation.Cole shrugged, hands raised in a casual, almost helpless gesture. “The organizers changed the lineup again. They said it makes the show flow better. Plus, it would be nice to have the host country perform first. At least, give them that advantage,” he explained, his tone calm, trying not to provoke further frustration.A

129.

Samantha’s POVAnthony muttered under his breath, but I caught enough to hear: “Follow instructions when we are already being treated like props…”I shot him a sideways glance. “Anthony, try not to start a mutiny before we even get inside.”He huffed, leaning back, eyes narrowing at the van ceiling. “Mutiny? Maybe. Maybe I just want to be sane for once.”I bit the inside of my cheek, suppressing a laugh. “Sane? After the flight we had? I think we are both barely functioning, thank you very much.”Anthony’s lips twitched, almost a smirk, but he quickly folded it into a scowl again. “Barely functioning is not the same as performing. Do you know how hard it is to switch on after eight hours of recycled air and terrible coffee?”I let out a long exhale, feeling the van sway slightly as it stopped. “Fine. Let us just get this over with,” I muttered, slumping further in my seat and mentally preparing for the chaos that awaited inside.The driver parked the van and opened the door. Anthony s

130.

Samantha’s POVI wanted to scream. The moment the brief talk with whoever he was wrapped up and I thought we could finally breathe for at least two minutes, a man with a headset rushed toward us like we were fugitives he had been chasing all day.“There you are. I have been looking for you both,” a man called out, hurrying toward us with a clipboard tucked under his arm. He was slightly out of breath, sweat beading at his temple. “Anthony Brooks and Samantha Hale. You are needed at the rink immediately.”I blinked at him. Hard.“I’m sorry… what?”Did he just…?Hale? Brooks?Who the hell were those people?Anthony’s head snapped toward the man so fast I heard the faint pop of his neck. His brows slammed together, and I felt the shift in the air, his patience had just evaporated.He frowned at me, the kind of expression people give when they think you’re intentionally being slow. “Rehearsal,” he repeated impatiently. “Brief run-through. You were supposed to be there fifteen minutes

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