Frozen Flame

CHAPTER3

The glow of Jaiyanna's laptop screen cast sharp shadows across her face as midnight approached in Frankfurt. The Frost Group's headquarters stood nearly empty, save for the cleaning staff and a few scattered workaholics like herself. The loyalty program statistics on her screen told a grim story—declining retention rates, dwindling customer engagement, all wrapped in deceptively cheerful graphs. Her proposed overhaul mocked up on the adjacent monitor looked revolutionary by comparison, which was exactly the point.

A shadow fell across her desk. "If you keep skipping meals, you'll collapse before your big presentation," Marie chided, setting down two steaming containers of Thai food from their favorite spot near the office. The rich scent of coconut curry and lemongrass made Jaiyanna's stomach growl in protest.

She minimized her screens reluctantly. "I'm on the final proofing now. Just need to—"

"Sleep? Shower? Remember what sunlight looks like?" Marie plopped into the guest chair and flipped open the containers with practiced efficiency. "Eat. Then work."

Jaiyanna stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork. "You sound like my sister."

"Someone needs to mother you since your actual family is in Berlin," Marie shot back, nudging the rice container closer. She leaned over to study the presentation still visible on the second monitor. "This is... aggressive."

"It's necessary."

Marie's chopsticks paused mid-air. "Ethan Frost built his reputation on stability, not revolution."

"Exactly why we're losing market share to those boutique hotels in Berlin and Munich." Jaiyanna tapped her proposal proudly. "This isn't just points-for-stays nonsense. It's immersive experiences—local artist collaborations, exclusive neighborhood tours, digital integration that remembers guests' preferences down to their coffee order."

"—And about as subtle as Oktoberfest at a funeral," Marie finished, shaking her head. "You're really not nervous?"

Jaiyanna's smirk didn't quite reach her eyes as she glanced at the framed photo on her desk—her parents and older sister grinning outside Berlin's Brandenburg Gate during her last visit home. "Should I be?"

The silence stretched just a beat too long.

"Alright, I'm wishing you good luck, my girl." Marie stood, brushing imaginary lint from her skirt. "I need to get back to my own department before security thinks we're having an affair."

"Okay, see you at lunch break tomorrow."

As Marie's footsteps faded down the hall, Jaiyanna exhaled slowly and pulled up her messaging app.

**Jaiyanna:** Still on for Sunday in Berlin? I'll take the morning train.

Her mother's reply came instantly.

**Mutter:** Your father already bought the pork knuckle for roasting. Don't be late this time!

The familiar pang of homesickness struck as she imagined the cozy kitchen of her childhood home in Berlin's Charlottenburg district. Shaking it off, she maximized her slides again, tweaking another transition. Seven days until presentation. Seven days to revolutionize Frost Group's approach to hospitality.

---

The next morning, the walk to Ethan's office felt like crossing a minefield in heels. Every glance from passing employees prickled against her skin. Were they staring because she was new? Because she'd dared challenge their precious status quo?

She adjusted her blazer—charcoal gray today, professional but with a subtle sheen that caught the light—and knocked firmly.

"Enter."

Ethan's office was exactly as she remembered: all sharp angles and cold elegance, like the man himself. The Frankfurt skyline spread behind him like a crown through floor-to-ceiling windows. Those piercing gray eyes flicked up from his paperwork.

"Miss Carter. You're early."

"I prefer being prepared." She set the embossed presentation folder before him with deliberate care.

The silence as he reviewed her work stretched taut enough to snap. Jaiyanna focused on the rhythmic tick of the antique clock behind her—Bauhaus design, probably worth more than her annual salary. Exactly twelve ticks passed before Ethan spoke.

"You want to dismantle our most profitable program."

"It's profitable in the short term," she corrected. "Client retention has dropped nineteen percent over three quarters. Our competitors in Berlin and Hamburg are—"

"—Not the Frost Group." His fingers steepled beneath his chin. "This implementation would cost millions."

She leaned forward, tapping the revenue projection page. "And generate twenty-eight million euros in new bookings within eighteen months. The ROI speaks for itself."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. For the briefest moment, she thought she saw something flicker behind those glacier eyes—curiosity? Annoyance?—before his expression smoothed back to impassivity.

"You're either very confident," he said slowly, "or very naive."

"I'm right."

The corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but something dangerously close.

"You'll present to the board next Friday." He closed the folder with a decisive snap. "If they approve, we proceed."

Jaiyanna's pulse jumped. Just like that? No dismantling her methodology? No condescending lectures about knowing her place?

"Thank you, Mr. Frost. You won't regret this." She stood smoothly, already mentally revising her rehearsal schedule.

"One more thing."

She turned at the door.

His gaze pinned her like a specimen under glass. "Don't make me regret trusting you."

The words settled between her shoulder blades like the point of a knife as she stepped into the hall.

*"Way to go, Ethan,"* she muttered under her breath, rolling her shoulders against the sudden tension. The elevator doors slid shut on the sight of Lydia hovering near Ethan's office, her expression unreadable.

Back at her desk, Jaiyanna pulled up her calendar with renewed determination. Seven days to perfect the presentation. Seven days to convince a room full of conservative old men to embrace change.

And seven days to prove—to Ethan Frost most of all—that she wasn't just right.

She was indispensable.