MARRY ME COLD PRINCE

He’s winter in a tailored suit. She’s the only fire that ever touched him. Arielle Reyes has 30 days before the bank strips her family’s name off Reyes Industries. 2.3 billion pesos in debt. One legacy her parents died building. The only man who can save it with a signature? Damian Cortez. Billionaire CEO. Manila’s “Ice King.” Her ex’s older brother. The man who taught Wall Street that feelings were a liability. His offer isn’t a check. It’s a contract. “Marry me. Cold price. No love. No children. No pretending when the cameras turn off. 1 year. Then we walk away clean.” Damian doesn’t believe in warmth. He believes in clauses, control, and calculated losses. Arielle doesn’t believe in billionaires. She believes in lesson plans, pancit on birthdays, and protecting what’s hers at any cost. But contracts don’t account for 3 AM nightmares. For sharing a penthouse where his silence is louder than words. For a marriage bed that was supposed to stay empty, but his warmth keeps finding her in the dark. The colder the price he sets, the hotter the consequences burn. Because Clause 12 says _Do not fall for me_… And Arielle Reyes has never been good at following rules written by men who don’t understand her heart. A contract signed in ink. A CEO with a frozen heart. A girl who refuses to stay cold.* This was supposed to be business. So why does every “I do” feel like the beginning of a war he’s already losing? *Prologue - The 88th floor was silent except for the sound of Damian Cortez’s pen clicking. Once. Twice. Then it stopped. The city of Manila stretched below them, glittering like broken glass. Cold. Distant. Perfect. Just like him. Arielle Reyes stood across the obsidian conference table, heels digging into Italian marble. Thirty days. That’s all the bank gave her before auctioneers put her father’s name, her mother’s dream, and every employee who called her “Ma’am” up for sale. “One year,” Damian said without looking up. His voice was flat, clinical, like he was reading a quarterly report. “You marry me. Legally. Publicly. You wear my ring at galas, my name on press releases, my shadow at board meetings. In return, I erase 2.3 billion pesos of debt. Cold price. No discounts. No emotions.” She laughed, but it cracked right down the middle. The sound echoed in a room designed to swallow weakness. “You’re insane. I’d rather burn Reyes Industries to the ground than sell myself to you, Damian Cortez.” Now he looked up. Gray eyes. No warmth. Just the sharp calculation of a man who’d fired his own uncle before breakfast. “No, you wouldn’t,” he said softly. Dangerously. “That’s why you’re standing in my boardroom at midnight instead of at your father’s grave. You’ll sign, Arielle. Because saving them matters more than saving yourself.” He slid the contract across the table. Thick paper. Heavy as a headstone. Her future in black ink and legal terms. *Clause 4:* _No romantic involvement. Physical or emotional._ *Clause 7:* _Automatic divorce after 12 months. No exceptions. No extensions._ *Clause 12:* _Do not fall for me. This is business. Business does not love you back._ The pen was Mont Blanc. Cold in her palm. Her father’s last words rattled in her head: _Protect this company, anak. It’s all we have left._ Her signature shook across the last page. Arielle Reyes. Selling her name, her freedom, her next year. Damian signed beneath her with sharp, precise strokes. Damian Cortez. Buying a wife like he’d bought companies. Efficient. Final. Empty. The ink dried. And just like that, the Ice King owned the one woman who’d never learned how to freeze. She thought the price was her name on a marriage certificate. She was wrong. The real price was the way his eyes thawed when he thought no one was watching. The real price was Clause Zero — the rule he didn’t write down, but she’d break anyway: _Choose each other. Every morning._ More update to come🫶🫶see you thereee😗