Chapter One: The Cold Crown
1680 Words
They said the wedding was beautiful.
They said I was glowing—radiant, elegant, the perfect bride in imported silk with a diamond veil that cost more than most people’s homes.
What they didn’t say was that my groom didn’t touch me.
Not when I walked down the aisle.
Not during our vows.
And not even that night, beneath the chandelier of a thousand crystals.
Dominik kissed the air next to my cheek, and the flashbulbs caught it like love.
But I felt nothing.
Nothing, except the cold of his lips almost brushing my skin.
I signed the papers with a diamond pen, in front of a man who owned me now—not with affection, not even with lust—but with legality.
A marriage of alliances. Of power. Of legacy.
Not love.
Not even desire.
And yet… I still remember the moment I first saw him—his brother—watching me from the far end of the marble staircase, his tie loose, a half-smile tugging at his mouth like he already knew how this would end.
And I should’ve run then. I should’ve walked out of that cathedral and never looked back.
But I didn’t.
Because deep down, I liked the way he looked at me—
Like I was about to be broken, and he wanted the first piece.
I was born to marry a man like Dominik Adler. My father made sure of that.
He raised me on obedience, on elegance, on silence. Taught me that a woman’s power came from making men believe they were in control. So when Dominik chose me, I did what I was taught.
I smiled.
I nodded.
I became a crown jewel in the Adler empire—a perfect ornament for the perfect storm.
But he never really looked at me.
Even on our wedding night, as the door clicked shut and the silence became unbearable, he didn’t turn.
“I’ll be in the East Wing,” he said, unbuttoning his cuffs without glancing in my direction. “Your suite is this one.”
“My suite?” I echoed. My voice sounded foreign in the velvet air of the penthouse.
“We won’t share a bed, Ivy,” he said calmly, as if it were a business clause. “Not until I say so.”
“And when will that be?” I asked, standing in a dress I couldn’t unzip on my own.
He turned then, slowly. His face was carved from winter—sharp, silent, unreadable. The eyes were ice, but not lifeless.
No, they were watching. Measuring. Calculating.
“When I trust you,” he said.
And then he left.
No kiss. No touch. Not even a glance over his shoulder.
I stood in silence until the clock struck three and the silk began to stick to my skin like a second shame.
It’s strange, the things you notice when you’re unwanted.
Like how quiet 20,000 square feet can be.
How footsteps echo longer when no one answers them.
How mirrors in long hallways always make you feel like you’re being watched.
That’s how I started noticing him.
Aleksei Adler.
Dominik’s younger brother.
The one they called the “cursed prince” of the family.
Tattooed knuckles, motorcycle scars, a record expunged by wealth.
He didn’t show up for the wedding, but he was at the house the next morning, sipping espresso on the balcony like it belonged to him. Shirtless. Golden. Dangerous.
“You’re the new bride,” he said without turning.
I paused. “And you’re the family embarrassment.”
He turned then. Smirked.
“And already my favorite.”
Aleksei flirted like it was breathing—effortless, reckless, necessary.
He teased me in the hallways. Whispered things when no one was near. Brushed past me too close when Dominik wasn’t looking. Touched my wrist once, slowly—like testing how far a match could burn.
But he never went too far.
Not until that night.
Dominik had a fundraiser—some glossy thing with millionaires and mistresses and champagne that tasted like secrets. He made me wear red. I think he liked the color on me because it reminded people I was taken, blood-stamped and sealed.
He left me alone at the bar.
And that’s when Aleksei appeared.
“You look like sin,” he murmured, leaning in close. His breath was hot. His lips near my ear.
I didn’t move. “And you look like trouble.”
“I am trouble,” he said. “The kind you should run from.”
“But I won’t,” I whispered.
He looked down at my glass. “That your third?”
“Fourth.”
He laughed. Low, throaty. “You’re braver than you look, Red.”
I tilted my chin. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”
His eyes dropped to my lips, and for one second, everything stopped. The clinking glasses, the murmured deals, the violins—
None of it mattered.
He leaned in.
And I let him.
But just before our lips touched, someone cleared their throat.
I turned, heart hammering, expecting Dominik.
But it was him—Matthias König.
My husband’s best friend.
And the most dangerous man in the room.
Matthias didn’t smile. He never did. He had a face like granite and a voice like sin after dark.
He wore suits that looked stitched from shadows and always stood just a little too close, like he wanted you to notice his power without speaking.
“Ivy,” he said, his eyes flicking from me to Aleksei. “You’re needed.”
“By who?”
“Your husband.”
Aleksei snorted. “Dominik doesn’t even know she’s here.”
Matthias didn’t flinch. “And yet, here I am.”
He held out a hand.
I didn’t take it.
“Tell him I’m dancing,” I said.
Matthias leaned in, so close I smelled smoke and leather.
“Careful, bride,” he said. “You keep playing with shadows, and you’ll forget what daylight feels like.”
Then he walked away.
And I realized—I wasn’t sure I ever knew what daylight was.
The first time I truly let go was in the East Garden, three nights later. I was drunk on stolen vodka and rage.
Dominik hadn’t spoken to me in two days.
Aleksei had disappeared.
And Matthias had been watching.
Always watching.
I smashed a glass against the marble pillar and sank to the cold stone floor, laughing like a madwoman.
And then—he appeared.
Matthias. In the dark. Silent as a ghost.
He didn’t say anything. Just took off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders.
I looked up at him.
“Do you want me?” I whispered.
His jaw clenched. His nostrils flared.
“I’m your husband’s friend,” he said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
He crouched down, inches from my lips.
“I’ve wanted you since the day you walked through his door,” he said quietly. “But wanting you would destroy everything.”
I leaned in, breathless. “Then destroy it.”
His hand brushed my cheek. His eyes—oh God, those eyes—
Then he stood.
“Not tonight,” he said. “But soon.”
And he vanished into the dark.
The next day, Aleksei was waiting in my room.
Uninvited. Shirtless again. Eating an apple like the Garden of Eden was a joke.
“I missed you,” he said.
“You don’t even know me.”
He walked over. “Don’t I?”
He pressed a hand to my stomach. Just resting there.
“I know the way your breath changes when I’m near. I know you don’t sleep in Dominik’s bed. I know you flinch when you hear his voice and lean in when you hear mine.”
He kissed my collarbone.
I let him.
“I’m a married woman,” I said.
“Not to me,” he whispered. “Not yet.”
I didn’t fall in love.
I spiraled.
Three men. One cage.
And me—the pretty little bride with silk and secrets.
But I was beginning to learn something dangerous.
I didn’t want to be saved.
I wanted to be devoured.
It all came crashing the night of the masquerade ball.
I wore black lace and red lips. No one recognized me.
But they knew I didn’t belong to them.
I danced with Aleksei. I let his hands wander. I whispered things that would’ve burned the world if someone had heard.
And then—Dominik appeared.
Maskless.
Cold.
Silent.
Watching.
I froze in Aleksei’s arms.
He smirked. “Oops.”
Dominik didn’t speak. Didn’t blink.
Just held out his hand.
“Wife.”
The word made the air drop ten degrees.
I took his hand.
But not before whispering to Aleksei, “Follow me.”
Dominik led me to the upper balcony. Shut the door. Locked it.
“I’m done pretending,” he said.
“Pretending what?”
“That I don’t see what you’re doing.”
His voice was quiet. Dangerous.
“You think I don’t notice how you dress for them? How you look at my brother? How you provoke Matthias?”
I met his stare. “And what will you do about it, husband?”
He grabbed my jaw.
Not roughly.
But not gently, either.
“You’re mine,” he said. “Say it.”
I said nothing.
His eyes flickered. Just for a moment.
Then the door flew open.
Aleksei.
And Matthias.
Both of them.
And all three of us—standing in silence.
Breathing the same storm.
The same sin.
The same hunger.
Dominik turned slowly. “Get out.”
“No,” Aleksei said, voice like smoke. “She called me.”
“She’s my wife,” Dominik growled.
“She’s not yours tonight,” Matthias said darkly. “Not anymore.”
I stepped between them.
And smiled.
“I don’t want one of you,” I whispered. “I want all three.”
- Writer
