LOGINBetrayed. Sold. Kassandra Lewis was at the brink of despair, when the most feared and notorious brought her as his. One has to do what they can to survive... if that means making the mafia boss fall for her then so be it.
View MoreI don't touch the folder right away. I just stare at it. At the crisp corners and the invisible weight, it carries. This isn't some idle test. He wouldn't risk giving me even fabricated data unless it meant something. I am not sure what he's up to but I play it cool. He wants fire, but tonight I'll give him frost."What's in it?" I ask.The Ice King's gaze sharpens, but he doesn't answer."If you expect me to sift through someone else's lies, I need to know what matters to you. What am I looking for?""Deviations," he says after a pause. "Connections that shouldn't exist. Patterns that don't align."The Ice King walks back toward the desk. Bracing both hands on it, he leans over the leather blotter like it might anchor him."And if there aren't any?" I press."Then keep looking until there are."My mouth curves upward, but there is no real amusement in it. "You want answers but you never admit what questions you're really asking."The man straightens slowly. "And yet you keep trying t
The Ice King closes the door behind me with a quiet click. The sound is soft, but it echoes like a warning.His office is just how I remember it--- sleek, dark, and intimidating. Golden afternoon light spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows and across the polished mahogany desk. It smells like expensive leather and quiet violence in here. I hover near the doorway, but the Ice King strides past me without a word and rounds the desk. The man's fingers brush a control panel and the blinds begin to close with a mechanical hum, one by one to shut out the world beyond the glass.That's when I notice it... something is off in his movements. The precision is still there, but the calm is cracked. Not visibly... at least not to the untrained eye. But I see it now. The subtle tension in his shoulders. The way his fingers twitch once before folding tightly against his palm.Something is unraveling beneath the surface."You didn't just come here to lecture me about eavesdropping," I say quie
The room feels hollow now and the air feels thick with everything that had happened before reality knocked it away.The Ice King had left mintues ago but his absence still echoes in the silence he left behind. I had retreated to the edge of the bed, far from the couch and far from where things had nearly unraveled. Still, my body tingles where his skin had pressed against mine. The gel tube still lies forgotten on the side table, it's probably cold and sterile compared to the fire burning beneath my skin.I close my eyes as I try to gather the scattered pieces of myself. The man--- the Ice King--- who held me like that, with such raw, desperate need, is the same man who keeps me prisoner in this Godforsaken place.And somehow, in that contradiction, I find myself both terrified and inexplicably drawn deeper into his dysfunctional orbit.What does that make me?A victim? A willing participant? Or something else entirely?I don't have the answer yet but one thing's for sure: nothing
The door clicks softly behind him and just like that the room suddenly feels too big and too quiet. The silence that follows settles over us like a shroud.My body goes cold for a moment and so does the tube of silicone gel in my hand. The faint scent of antiseptic that lingers in the air mixes with his cold presence. My fingers tighten around the tube as I shift toward the edge of the bed. I swing my legs onto the cold floor then stand and make my way to the couch. The man watches me from where he sits with his shirt still undone and muscles looking relax but there's a storm behind his eyes. Without a word, the man gestures toward his lap. I freeze as my pulse picks up. Not this again. "Straddle me. It will be easier." The Ice King says quietly. So quiet I almost missed what he had said. Reluctantly, I ease myself down on his lap. The warmth of his solid body is a sharp contrast to the sterile cold feel of the room. Our proximity is electric. It feels too close and too much but






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