My Ice Cold Prince Charming

CHAPTER FIVE

ANAYA'S POV

Morning came far too quickly.

The soft rays of sunlight slipping through my curtains felt unfamiliar.

For a moment, I simply stared at the ceiling.

Still.

Silent.

Last night replayed in my head.

The box.

The medicine.

The note.

Do not repeat this.

I had read those three words over and over again until sleep finally claimed me.

At first, I had been confused.

Then angry.

And now?

I felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Because I had finally understood something.

A monster offering medicine did not make him less of a monster.

It only made him a monster with rules.

And I was done trying to understand him.

Done hoping.

Done breaking.

Slowly, I sat up.

My wrists still ached faintly from the chains, but instead of staring at the marks like they were signs of weakness, I saw them for what they truly were.

A reminder.

A reminder of the girl I refused to be again.

The weak, trembling Anaya who had spent years crushing on a man who had never once looked at her with kindness.

That girl was gone.

And maybe…

That was for the best.

I got out of bed and walked to the mirror.

For a long moment, I stared at my reflection.

The dark circles beneath my eyes were still there.

The pain was still there too.

But something had changed.

My eyes.

There was something harder in them now.

Something steadier.

Without hesitation, I reached for the simple cream-colored dress Ana had left for me.

It wasn’t luxurious.

It wasn’t fancy.

But it was neat.

Elegant.

Clean.

I carefully fixed my hair, smoothing it back before pinning it neatly beneath my scarf.

Not because I wanted to impress anyone.

Not because I cared what he thought.

But because I wanted to feel like the person I had decided to become.

Strong.

Composed.

Untouchable.

And for the first time since entering this house, when I looked into the mirror—

I liked what I saw.

---

Breakfast preparation was already underway when I entered the kitchen.

The usual quiet chatter among the maids died instantly.

I felt their stares.

Their curiosity.

Their surprise.

Ana looked up from where she was plating food.

Her eyes widened slightly.

Then slowly, she smiled.

It was small.

Barely there.

But it was approval.

“You look better,” she said.

“I feel better.”

The words surprised even me.

Ana studied my face for a moment before nodding.

“Good.”

Then she leaned slightly closer.

“Remember what I told you.”

I nodded.

Bend.

But do not break.

---

By exactly eight, breakfast was laid out.

The long dining table looked as perfect as always.

Everything in that house had to be perfect.

Every plate aligned.

Every glass polished.

Every movement measured.

The maids lined up quietly after placing the dishes down.

I stood among them, hands folded neatly in front of me.

Calm.

Still.

Then he entered.

The shift in the room was instant.

Zayaan walked in wearing a fitted charcoal suit, his expression unreadable as usual.

He didn’t spare anyone a glance at first.

Then his eyes landed on me.

And stayed there.

I felt it.

That sharp, assessing stare.

He noticed the difference immediately.

The way I stood straighter.

The absence of trembling.

The lack of fear.

His expression didn’t change.

But something dark flickered in his eyes.

He took his seat.

One of the maids stepped forward to serve him.

“Stop.”

His voice cut through the room like a blade.

The maid froze instantly.

His gaze remained fixed on me.

“You.”

The single word hung heavily in the air.

“Come serve me.”

The room went still.

I could feel every pair of eyes on me.

Waiting.

Watching.

Expecting hesitation.

But I didn’t hesitate.

I stepped forward.

Picked up the serving spoon.

And calmly served his food.

The entire time, I could feel his eyes on me.

Searching.

Testing.

Looking for something.

Fear.

Nervousness.

Weakness.

He found none.

When I finished, I stepped back.

Silent.

Controlled.

And that was when he tested me.

“Did no one teach you basic manners?”

His voice was cold.

Sharp enough for everyone to hear.

I met his gaze.

“No, Master.”

A deliberate pause.

Then I added calmly,

“Perhaps they assumed I would never need to learn them here.”

The room practically stopped breathing.

I saw Ana’s eyes widen.

One maid nearly dropped the tray in her hands.

And Zayaan…

He stilled.

Not anger.

Not yet.

But surprise.

I had answered.

Politely.

Yet there had been meaning beneath it.

A challenge carefully wrapped in obedience.

His jaw tightened.

“Interesting.”

That was all he said.

Then he resumed eating.

But I could feel it.

His attention remained fixed on me.

---

When breakfast ended, the staff began clearing the table.

That was when I saw her.

Stella.

She had returned.

And she looked nothing like before.

Her usually perfect appearance was gone.

Her face was pale.

Her movements stiff.

And there was something haunting in her eyes.

Fear.

The kind that lingered.

Her gaze met mine.

And instantly hardened.

Pure hatred.

It was clear what she blamed me for.

She brushed past me sharply enough to knock my shoulder.

“Watch where you stand,” she muttered.

I said nothing.

That only seemed to anger her more.

Before she could say anything else, Ana appeared beside me.

“Kitchen. Now.”

The warning in her voice was clear.

Stella walked away.

But not before sending me one final glare.

A promise.

This wasn’t over.

---

The rest of the morning passed in unusual silence.

Then, just before noon, word spread quickly.

Master was leaving for work.

The entire staff lined up near the entrance as always.

I stood near the back.

When Zayaan descended the staircase, every conversation died.

He moved with the same controlled authority he always carried.

Without looking at anyone, he adjusted his cufflinks.

Then suddenly—

He stopped.

His gaze found me.

Again.

For a brief second, neither of us looked away.

Then he spoke.

“You.”

The word sent a ripple through the line.

“Come here.”

I obeyed.

Stopping exactly two steps away.

He studied me for what felt like forever.

Then his eyes dropped briefly to my wrists.

To the fading marks.

Something unreadable crossed his face.

When he spoke, his voice was low enough that only I could hear.

“Whatever game you think you’re playing…”

He leaned slightly closer.

“Do not mistake my patience for weakness.”

For the first time, I answered without lowering my head.

“And do not mistake my silence for surrender.”

The words were soft.

Respectful.

But firm.

For one split second—

I saw it.

Shock.

Real shock.

Then his expression shut down completely.

He straightened.

Without another word, he turned and walked out.

The heavy doors closed behind him.

And the entire house remained frozen.

Because everyone had seen it.

For the first time—

Someone had spoken back to Zayaan and lived.

As the sound of his car faded into the distance, I exhaled slowly.

My heart was pounding.

My palms were damp.

But my face remained calm.

And deep down, I knew.

Something had shifted.

This was no longer just survival.

This was war.

___

The rest of the day passed in tense silence.

After Master left for work, the mansion felt strangely lighter.

Not peaceful.

Just… less suffocating.

Still, his words from that morning refused to leave my mind.

Do not mistake my patience for weakness.

The memory should have unsettled me.

But instead, it only strengthened my resolve.

Whatever game he thought he was playing, I was done being his frightened little victim.

By evening, the house was already preparing for his return.

Dinner was almost ready.

The maids moved around with unusual urgency.

Even Stella seemed more tense than usual, barking orders at everyone.

Something was different.

I noticed it immediately.

The expensive floral arrangements being placed in the living room.

The crystal glasses.

The extra place settings.

Guests.

Master was expecting guests.

And judging by the tension in the air, they weren’t ordinary visitors.

“Anaya.”

I turned to find Ana standing behind me.

Her expression was unreadable.

“Be careful tonight.”

My brows furrowed.

“Why?”

She hesitated.

Then sighed.

“Just… keep your emotions under control.”

Before I could ask what she meant, the sound of engines outside filled the air.

He was home.

The entire household lined up instantly.

I stood among them, my heart beating steadily.

The massive front doors opened.

And then I saw him.

Zayaan stepped inside, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.

Cold.

Composed.

Unreadable.

But he wasn’t alone.

A woman walked beside him.

Tall.

Elegant.

Beautiful.

Her fitted burgundy dress clung to her body like a second skin.

Long dark hair cascaded down her back.

And the smile she wore as she slipped her arm through his—

It was intimate.

Possessive.

My stomach dropped.

The room felt suddenly too small.

Too hot.

No.

No.

This had to be some mistake.

But then she laughed softly at something he murmured.

And he…

He allowed it.

He allowed her touch.

Allowed her closeness.

Allowed her to stand beside him like she belonged there.

Something sharp twisted painfully inside my chest.

Not love.

Not anymore.

Something uglier.

Humiliation.

The woman’s eyes swept lazily over the line of staff.

Then paused on me.

A slow smile spread across her lips.

“Is this the new help?”

Before I could even process the insult, Zayaan answered.

“Yes.”

The single word hit harder than a slap.

I felt every eye in the room shift toward me.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

And he wanted everyone to witness it.

The woman tilted her head.

“She’s pretty.”

My fingers curled tightly into my palms.

Then came the blow that shattered whatever calm I had left.

Zayaan’s voice was smooth.

Controlled.

“This is Samira.”

A pause.

Then—

“My fiancée.”

The world stopped.

I heard the collective gasps.

Saw the shocked glances among the staff.

But all I could hear was the roaring in my ears.

Fiancée?

My throat tightened painfully.

I was his wife.

His actual wife.

And yet—

He had just introduced another woman as his fiancée.

Publicly.

Like our marriage meant absolutely nothing.

Samira’s smile widened as she studied my reaction.

And then Zayaan looked directly at me.

His eyes were sharp.

Watching.

Testing.

Waiting.

He was doing this on purpose.

This was another test.

Another punishment.

Another cruel attempt to break me.

Then he delivered the final blow.

“You.”

His gaze never left mine.

“Attend to her tonight.”

The words landed like ice.

Samira smirked.

“I’ll need help unpacking.”

I felt it.

The crack.

The dangerous tremor threatening my control.

Every nerve in my body screamed.

This was too much.

Too humiliating.

Too cruel.

For one terrible second, I almost broke.

But then Ana’s voice echoed in my mind.

Men like him don’t know what to do with silence. Fear feeds them. Silence starves them.

Slowly—

deliberately—

I lowered my head.

“Yes, Master.”

For the first time all evening, something flickered in Zayaan’s eyes.

Not satisfaction.

Not victory.

Confusion.

Because he had expected pain.

He had expected tears.

Instead, I gave him obedience so calm it unsettled him.

Samira laughed softly.

“Well then,” she said sweetly, “carry my bags.”

She deliberately dropped three heavy designer suitcases at my feet.

The challenge was clear.

I bent to lift them.

They were heavier than I expected.

My arms strained.

But I said nothing.

I simply carried them upstairs.

Step by painful step.

Samira walked ahead, hips swaying confidently.

And when we reached the guest suite, she turned to me with a slow smile.

“You’re prettier than I expected.”

I said nothing.

She moved closer.

Too close.

Then whispered:

“Do you know why he brought me here?”

My expression remained blank.

Her smile sharpened.

“To remind you that no matter what papers were signed…”

She leaned closer.

“You will never be his real choice.”

The words hit hard.

Hard enough to almost steal my breath.

Almost.

But I refused to let her see it.

I simply placed her bags down.

Then met her eyes.

And calmly said—

“Then perhaps you should ask yourself why a man who claims to want you is still legally married to me.”

The smile vanished from her face.

And for the first time—

I saw surprise.

Real surprise.

I turned and walked out before she could respond.

My heart was pounding violently.

My hands were shaking.

But my face remained calm.

As I stepped into the hallway—

I froze.

Zayaan was standing there.

Leaning against the wall.

He had heard everything.

His dark eyes locked onto mine.

Unreadable.

Dangerous.

And then, slowly—

He pushed himself off the wall and started walking toward me.

My pulse thundered.

But I stood still.

He stopped directly in front of me.

Close enough for me to feel his warmth.

His gaze searched my face.

Sharp.

Intense.

Then he spoke.

Low enough that only I could hear.

“Well.”

A pause.

His lips curved very slightly.

The closest thing I had ever seen to a smile.

“It seems The Room finally taught you something.”

And somehow…

That unsettled me more than his anger ever had.