A Figure Skating Queen Who Can’t Be Lifted But I Was Born To Fly Chapter 07

A Figure Skating Queen Who Can’t Be Lifted But I Was Born To Fly Chapter 07

The blade sang against the ice, a crisp, clean sound.

I came to a stop right in front of Damien, chest heaving, sweat dripping from my chin.

Damien looked at his stopwatch and pressed the button.

“Four rotations. Perfect landing.”

There was a tremor in his voice he almost managed to hide.

“Chloe, you did it.”

I looked at him, and suddenly I wanted to cry..

Ten years of being held down, ten years of doubting myself, and in this single moment, all of it finally shattered for good.

I’d proven I wasn’t some lumbering burden. I was an eagle that could soar across the ice.

“Go take a shower. Get changed.”

Damien handed me a towel.

“I’m taking you somewhere tonight.”

Two hours later, Damien drove me to a high-end custom competition dress studio downtown.

“The Northwest Regional Championships start the day after tomorrow.”

Damien settled into the couch, casually flipping through a magazine.

“You need a new competition dress.”

I blinked.

Before, Ethan had always picked my competition dresses. He liked pink, white, anything dripping with lace

and rhinestones, that delicate, dainty look. He said it made me appear smaller.

Even when the dresses squeezed me so tight I could barely breathe, I wore them without complaint.

A sales associate wheeled out a rack of garments.

“Ms. Hart, Mr. Ashford called ahead. These were all custom-made overnight to your measurements and style preferences.”

I looked at the rack and my breath caught.

No pink. No lace.

Every piece was black, gold, or deep navy. The cuts were sharp and clean, radiating power.

I chose a black-and-gold competition dress and stepped into the fitting room.

It hugged my body perfectly.

No waistline cinched painfully tight to create the illusion of thinness. Instead, it highlighted the taut, powerful

core muscles I’d built.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and my eyes hardened with resolve.

I walked out in the dress, and Damien looked up.

His gaze lingered on me for a beat, and something like genuine awe flickered in his eyes.

“It suits you.”

Just then, the studio door swung open.

Ethan walked in with Scarlett Brown.

Scarlett Brown was whining in that breathy voice of hers.

“Ethan, the competition dresses here are so expensive. I don’t have the budget.”

Ethan patted the back of her hand.

“Don’t worry about it. The club’s covering it.”

“You’re going after a Sectionals qualifying spot. You need to wear the best.”

They looked up and locked eyes with me.

Ethan froze.

He took in the expensive black-and-gold competition dress on my body, then glanced at Damien sitting on

the couch.

His expression darkened instantly.

“Chloe, you really can’t stand being alone, can you.”

Ethan let out a cold laugh and strode over.

“What, no club will take you in, so now you’re latching onto a sugar daddy?”

I looked at him the way you’d look at a clown performing on a street corner.

“I’m spending my own money on my own clothes. How is that any of your business?”

Ethan looked me up and down, his eyes full of derision.

“Your own money? Your pathetic savings were spent at the club a long time ago.”

He pointed at Damien.

“You’d rather run around with this amateur con artist than come back to the club?”

“Do you even know that Regionals registration is already closed?”

Scarlett Brown covered her mouth, giggling.

“Chloe, that dress is pretty, sure, but wearing that color is only going to make you look bulkier.”

“Ethan’s right. You should probably just stay off the ice and save yourself the embarrassment.”

I couldn’t be bothered with their provocations. I turned to the sales associate.

“I’ll take this one. Wrap it up.”

Ethan’s face flushed with fury when I ignored him.

He lunged forward and grabbed for my arm.

“I’m talking to you. Are you deaf?”

His hand never reached me. Damien caught it first.

Damien rose to his full height, a solid half-head taller than Ethan. The sheer physical presence of him made

Ethan instinctively step back.

“Ethan Parker. Keep your hands to yourself.”

Damien’s voice was cold as the ice itself.

Ethan struggled but couldn’t break free, his voice cracking with rage.

“Who the hell are you? Some amateur fraud thinks he can get in my face?”

Damien laughed softly.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a black-and-gold business card, and slipped it into the breast pocket of Ethan’s shirt, pinched between two fingers.

“Since Ethan Parker is so concerned about where Chloe ends up.”

“Do me a favor. The day after tomorrow at the competition, keep your eyes wide open.”

Damien released his grip, draped his arm around my shoulders, and walked us toward the exit.

Ethan fumbled the card out of his pocket with shaking hands.

The next second, he went rigid.

The card bore a single name and a single title.

Damien Ashford. U.S. Figure Skating High-Performance Coach.

me.”

“When you were ruthless enough to force me into early retirement, when you crushed every dream I ever had

with your own hands…”

“Did you spend even one second thinking about whether I’d survive it? About my future?”

I was done looking at the mess he’d made of himself. I turned to Damien beside me.

“Let’s go.”

Behind us, the empty corridor filled with the sound of Ethan’s ragged, gut-wrenching sobs.

The sound bounced off the walls, echoing again and again.

But my stride never faltered. I didn’t look back. Not once.

One month later.

I passed every evaluation and officially earned a spot in the Team USA development camp.

I became the sole priority athlete under Damien’s coaching.

Day after day of intense, scientifically structured training. Every technical detail polished to a razor’s edge, every ounce of my conditioning pushed to the limit.

My body and my skating reached a peak I’d never come close to in my entire career.

As for Ethan, he hit rock bottom.

His complete meltdown at Regionals and his dismal results got him dropped by the club outright. Unwilling

to accept that his story was over, he scrambled everywhere looking for a new partner.

But the figure skating world is small, and the ugly truth about what he’d done had long since made the

rounds. Everyone knew. No one was willing to take the risk of teaming up with him.

And Scarlett Brown. Years of purging to maintain her weight had left her with severe, irreversible stomach

damage. Her body could no longer withstand the demands of high-level training, and she was forced to leave the ice for good.

The two of them, in the end, paid an irreversible price for their arrogance, their selfishness, and their cruelty.

Late autumn arrived.

Late that autumn, the Grand Prix series event opened at an overseas venue to a packed and roaring crowd.

Damien leaned against the doorframe, holding my skates.

“Nervous?”

I shook my head.

“I’ve waited ten years for this day.”

Damien walked over, dropped to one knee, and personally laced my skates, pulling each tie snug.

“Remember what I told you. Don’t hold back.”

“Shatter the ice.”

I took a deep breath and stood.

The black-and-gold competition dress caught the light, gleaming with a cold, fierce edge.

I pushed open the door and headed for the rink.

In the corridor, I came face to face with Ethan Parker and Scarlett Brown, about to take the ice themselves.

The moment Ethan saw me, his feet stopped moving.

He took in my posture, straight-backed and sure, and the confidence and power radiating off me in a way he’d never seen before.

A flash of deep, searing regret crossed his eyes.

“Chloe…”

The word left his mouth before he could stop it, his voice dry and cracked.

I didn’t give him so much as a glance. I walked straight past him.

Scarlett Brown’s jaw clenched with jealousy.

“What an act. I hope you eat it out there.”

The announcer’s voice echoed through the arena.

“Next on the ice, representing Crown Ice Club: Ethan Parker and Scarlett Brown.”

Ethan drew a shaky breath and led Scarlett Brown onto the ice.

The music began, a gentle waltz.