The Mafia's Legacy

Chapter 7: An Icy Comparison

Victoria P.O.V

Pain scrapes across Victoria's palms when she pushes them out in front of her to break her fall. That's the third jump she's fumbled tonight. Fourth if she counts the pre-ice routine run through of her program.

She doesn't.

Victoria heaves herself onto sore legs and skates off the ice with a frustrated groan. Not even she's reckless enough to keep skating while distracted. She snatches her skate guards from their spot on top of the banister and slides them over her blades, flicking the ice shards off with practiced ease.

Sinking into one of the benches beside the rink, she drops her head into her hands. Its weight is heavy, the whirlwind of thoughts within starting to pound against her skull. A creak on the wooden bench beside her pierces through the abundant noise in her head and she peaks through her fingers. A pair of worn red Ugg boots rest on the floor beside her like a stained old rug.

“The ice is beneath your blades, girl. Not in your head."

Victoria grits her teeth at Olivia's obvious statement. As much as she loves the old woman, her advice can be blunt at the best of times. As one of the older coaches from an era long past, no skater has trained under her for nearly ten years now. It isn't a reflection of her abilities; many top name ice skaters were tutored under Olivia in their prime. People get old is all, eventually retiring to the sidelines.

However, like the cold winter ice, Olivia keeps on coming back. Her words flying onto unsuspecting skaters in a sharp flurry.

Victoria was one such victim of her random advice – and continues to be, it seems like.

The old lady with the eyes tinted with steel and hair as white as the ice had developed a soft spot for her over the years, often offering insight free of charge. Victoria never had the courage to ask if it was her talent and hard work that garnered offerings free of charge, or if it was something more, something deeper. Her soul is warm with gratitude at all the help Olivia has given her. It's just that sometimes problems transcend the sizable rectangle of ice.

Like her pestering beast, Antoni.

With a sigh, Victoria lifts her head. The cold breezing off the ice rink cools her frustrated cheeks. “I know," she mumbles to Olivia.

It's not like she wants to keep thinking about Antoni. It's been two days already, the weekend practically an ancient memory transcribed in the history books. His excuse to be at Russo Law Firm was sound, the logic reasonable. So, despite it still feeling weird that he was there before her, it isn't completely outrageous.

Business is business, whether that be in the vivid eyes of the law or within the opaque eyes of the underworld.

Olivia's raspy voice echoes across the space between them as it traverses across the train tracks of her thoughts, full of curiosity. “So why are you still scattering about in it then?"

Victoria huffs. She wants to bite back, 'that's the million-dollar question, Olivia,' her own respect toward the woman beside her the only thing keeping her lips frozen together. Because she can't say the real reason aloud – that it wasn't the fact that Antoni was at Russo Law Firm that she can't stop remembering, but the feelings she felt while being there with him.

Or lack thereof.

She was able to ignore the spike of cold adrenaline stabbing into her muscles as her best friend shook his hand, as well as the warm thrill when she caught his pupils dilating where they lingered across her hips and at the apex of her thighs. He thought she hadn't noticed, and she nearly didn't. He hid it well, that's for sure. But his unusually paranoid behavior made her pause. She watched and listened. Waited and took notice.

What she found, was something far worse than a horny beast.

It was a caring one.

For a moment, the noise around her scatters, Olivia's ragged breathing turning to cotton mist in her ears. Her mind wanders back to Antoni's harsh warning. She could see his lips moving, but the caution wasn't processing, her brain still stuck on the feeling of his gentle fingers wrapped around her elbow. His palm was warm, but his fingers cold, reminding her of summer rays seeping into her while she lies on a bed of snow.

It wasn't what she was used to feeling around him. Not since-

Olivia hums low in her throat and rises from her seat, jolting Victoria out of her thoughts. Victoria turns woeful eyes toward the ancient women, searching towering cold glaciers for any sign of life saving counsel.

“The ice will offer comfort girl, but only to those open to receive it. I have told you before to stop fighting it, yet you do not listen. Nothing will change at this rate." Olivia pats Victoria's upper back twice as she passes. “You are stronger than the forces which rise against you, Tori. Weather it. Break it. Rise above it."

Ice clampers throughout her veins. Olivia's words march throughout her brain like an army preparing for battle.

Noah plops onto the bench beside her. “What did old lady Liv want?"

Victoria grunts, “Just the usual donation of cryptic wisdom."

“Ah." Noah turns, his eyes following Olivia as she hobbles across the common area, as he bends over to undo his laces. The second she's turned the corner he rounds on Victoria. “Let's go out."

“What? Now?"

Noah drags one skate off his foot with a grunt, setting it gingerly on the ground beside him. “Yes, now." He pats her knee like a puppy begging to go for a walk. “Come on, that unfocused gaze and all those missed steps? You've been distracted all night. I mean, I know I'm good looking, but women fall for me, not because of me."

Victoria shakes her head with a laugh as she too bends to remove her skates. The sweat within them is starting to chill her toes. She winces as one of the blisters on her heel pops, the wet thin skin flapping in the frigid air. “We need to do strengthening practice."

“Tori." He whines.

“And, I have studying I have to do at home."

Noah rolls his eyes, his head following suit. “I have a life outside of the rink too, but I don't let it take over my existence." Victoria chucks off her other skate, her mind once more drifting to Antoni. This time she welcomes it, dissecting his parting advice for Professor Carton's class. If she were to follow that advice, her schedule would open. At least enough for a night out with Noah.

“Ok."

“Yes!" Noah rises from his seat, duffle bag already generating a breeze to ruffle her hair as he swings it excitedly over his shoulder.

“But only for an hour or two, deal?"

“Deal." Noah reaches his hand toward her, kind eyes bright with excitement. Victoria takes his hand with a grin.

'Oh, he's about the same height as Antoni.' She realizes with a start. She tilts her head back slightly to look at him, the same way she had to do with Antoni the other day. Noah hums as they leave the rink, his fingers still tightly wrapped around her as they walk two blocks to a near-by nightclub. She rubs her thumb over the back of Noah's knuckle. He has scrapes and cuts along his hands from falling on the ice, some of them no more than thin straight lines of white tissue blending seamlessly against his white skin.

'It's different.' She muses, thinking about Antoni's hands. His large fingers were rough on her skin, the tender hold exactly like Noah's. But the texture was different, harsher, reminiscent of the world he's had to use them in. The skin on his palms is nicked with jagged scars and countless bubbles of callouses, signs of the time and effort dedicated to perfecting each weapon he's ever held.

Victoria feels a heaviness settle deep in her gut, a frown tugging at her lips. How many more scars will he have splintering across his skin the next time they meet?

A tap on her wrist causes her to look at Noah. The streetlamps and billboard sings cast neon rainbows to curve within his blue eyes. He smiles warmly at Victoria before leaning close to her ear.

“The place is just around the corner." He utters. Victoria suppresses a shiver as his hot breath tickles the shell of her ear. “Once we're inside, you can tell little ol' Noah all about your problems, kay?"

Victoria laughs. “We're going to be here all night."