All Chapters of Defrosting Her Cold Heart : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

A murmur spread through the crowd.Has the kid offended the boss before?Even the most hardened recruits were exchanging glances, wondering why Lucas seemed unusually tense.Andrew shifted closer to Casey, lowering his voice. "Casey, have you met the boss before?"Casey’s posture stiffened slightly. "No."Her reply was firm, almost too quick.Andrew frowned. "Then why does he seem annoyed at you?"Casey exhaled through her nose, keeping her face neutral. "How should I know? Maybe he just doesn’t like my face."Andrew wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide for now.What truly puzzled everyone wasn’t just Lucas’s mood—it was the decision he made.Team One.To get into Team One, recruits had to go through Team Two's brutal training and prove themselves worthy before even being considered.But Casey?Lucas had thrown him straight into hell.Team One wasn’t just a group of elite trainees. They were trained for special missions—covert operations and high-risk assignments.And their real lead

Getting back to her room, Casey felt something move inside. She stilled. Her fingers reached for the small utility knife hidden in the lining of her uniform pants.The door creaked as she pushed it open.A tall, lean figure stood in the middle of the room, unmoving.Her breath hitched.But then—“Casey?”Andrew.She relaxed… marginally.“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, raising his hands.Casey narrowed her eyes. “Then what are you doing sneaking into my room like a damn ghost? I thought you left when I went to the boss’s office.”“I—okay, fair. I didn’t think you’d be this jumpy.”“Old habit,” she muttered.He gestured toward the floor and sat cross-legged, like they were two kids at a sleepover.“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted.She didn’t reply.Andrew scratched the back of his neck. “You’re… different. Not in a bad way. Just not like the rest of us.”Casey arched a brow. “You break into everyone’s room to tell them that?”A small smile tugged at his lips. “Only the interesti

The ring cleared. Dust hung in the air, and every eye turned toward the center, where Lucas and Casey now stood opposite one another.The Boss himself versus this same rookie again. No one had expected this match, and the whispers around the training ground grew louder and sharper.“Why him?”“Boss is really doing this?”“This kid’s done for.”Casey drew in a slow breath. The cramps were there, sharp and biting, but she forced the pain into the back of her mind. Her face burned from Lucas’s stare, heat crawling up her neck, and the worst part was she didn’t know why. She couldn’t afford to think about it now.Lucas dropped his cigarette to the dirt, crushing it under his heel. His posture shifted, shoulders rolling loose, feet sliding into stance. The devil himself, ready to strike.“Fight,” Austin has the refree barked.Casey moved first. She lunged with speed, fists cutting the air. Lucas parried easily, his movements fluid and effortless. Each deflection only emphasized the gap bet

The base had a rhythm of its own, a routine of drills, bruises, and sleepless nights. But once a year, the rhythm broke. The Welcoming Party wasn’t just tradition; it was ritual. It always carried a dangerous kind of excitement.It wasn’t just about greeting the new recruits. It was the one night of the year when the strict rules of the base loosened, when alcohol flowed freely, games were played, and laughter could actually echo through the steel halls, the night when the iron discipline of the instructors loosened, when even the walls of the underground compound seemed to sigh with relief. A time to get loose before the year of blood and exhaustion officially began.This year, the air was even thicker. Because the devil himself had announced it.Lucas.But no one had expected him to show up.So when he strode into the party hall, broad shoulders cloaked in black, eyes cold as ever, conversations froze mid-sentence. The music dulled, and all eyes turned toward him.For a long, breat

His jaw clenched, his shoulders rigid. The rim of the glass dug against his lip as he swallowed another burn of alcohol. But no matter how deep the liquor bit down his throat, it couldn’t cauterize the memory.His anger.His trembling defiance.His mouth was reckless enough to bite him, yet soft enough to haunt him.It was already too late.He had sunk into him, beneath skin and bone. And Lucas Blackwood knew with terrifying clarity he was attracted to the boy.The thought burned like acid. He tipped the glass back harder, the whiskey burning down his throat until it felt like fire. But it didn’t wash him away. Didn’t erase the phantom feel of his lips against his, the sting of his bite, the way his wide eyes had shone like liquid flame in the dim bathroom light.He hated it. He hated him.No—he hated himself moreIt was like poison, crawling through his veins as he sat among his men at the welcoming party. All around him, the base pulsed with noise, recruits laughing too loudly, vete