Contract with the Ice King

Chapter 5: Unzipped

The ride back to the penthouse was a nightmare of silence. I sat as close to the car door as possible, staring at the blurred lights of the city. Every time the car hit a bump, my shoulder brushed against Damian’s. It felt like an electric shock every single time. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw so tight I thought it might crack.

“It was just part of the show,” he had said.

Those words felt like a slap in the face. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to tell him that he couldn't just play with my feelings for the cameras and then turn back into a block of ice. But I stayed quiet. I was a professional, right? I was just a girl with a debt to pay.

When we finally entered the penthouse, the atmosphere was even worse. The huge living room felt cold and empty. Damian didn't even wait for me. He walked straight toward the bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He downed it in one go.

"I’m going to my study," he said, his voice cold and raspy. "I have work. Don't disturb me for any reason."

"Wait!" I shouted. The word echoed off the marble walls.

He stopped, his back to me. He took a slow, deep breath. "What is it now, Elena? I’ve had a very long night of pretending to be a happy husband. I’m tired."

"Pretending?" I felt a surge of anger. "You’re not the only one acting here, Damian! You think I enjoy this? You think I like being your little puppet?"

He turned around slowly. His eyes were dark. "You’re getting paid a million dollars to be a puppet. I’d say that’s a pretty good deal."

"I hate you," I whispered.

"Get in line," he snapped. "Now, if that’s all, I have work to do."

"It’s not all!" I felt my face heating up. This was so embarrassing. "I... I can't get out of this dress. The zipper is stuck."

He turned around slowly, a mocking glint in his eyes. "And why is that my problem?"

"The zipper is stuck, Damian! I've been trying to reach it since we got in the elevator, but the fabric is bunched up. I know how much you hate it when people ruin your expensive things."

Damian set his glass down on the counter with a loud clack. He started walking toward me. Each step felt like a drumbeat in my chest. He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of me. He was so tall I had to tilt my head back just to see his face.

"Turn around," he commanded.

"Don't talk to me like I’m your servant," I snapped.

"Elena," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous warning. "Turn. Around. Now."

I bit my lip and turned my back to him. I reached up and moved my hair to the side, exposing my neck and my bare back. I felt completely exposed. The silence in the room was so thick I could hear my own heart racing.

I felt his fingers touch my skin. I couldn't help it—I gasped. His touch was like a brand. It was hot, firm, and completely overwhelming.

"Keep still," he muttered. I could feel his breath on my neck. It sent shivers all the way down to my toes.

"I’m trying," I whispered. "Just... just fix it."

"It's really stuck," he said. His voice was strained. He was standing so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. His knuckles brushed against my spine as he worked the zipper. Every touch felt like a bolt of lightning. I felt my knees getting weak.

"Damian?"

"What?"

"Why are you so mean to me when we're alone?"

He stopped moving for a second. I felt his hands go still on my back. "Because when we're alone, I don't have to pretend, Elena. When we're alone, we both know exactly what this is."

"A business deal," I said, my voice shaking.

"Exactly." He gave the zipper a firm tug. Zzzzzzt.

It finally gave way. The dress loosened instantly, slipping down my shoulders. I had to grab the front of it with both hands to keep it from falling to the floor. I felt the cool air of the penthouse on my skin, but inside, I was burning.

I thought he would leave then. I expected him to turn around and walk away without a word. But he didn't.

He placed his hands on my bare shoulders. His palms were massive and warm. He didn't let go. Instead, he slowly turned me around so I was facing him.

I was clutching the midnight-blue silk to my chest, my eyes wide as I stared up at him. Damian wasn't looking at my eyes. He was looking at my lips. His grey eyes were no longer ice; they were like a storm cloud, dark and turbulent.

"You look beautiful tonight, Elena," he whispered. It was the first time he had said it without a camera watching.

"You're only saying that because of the dress," I managed to say, though my voice was barely audible.

"No," he said, stepping even closer. My back hit the cold marble wall. He leaned in, placing one hand on the wall next to my head. He was trapping me. "The dress is fine. But it’s not the dress that’s making it impossible for me to think straight tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I made a lot of rules for this contract," he rasped. He leaned down, his face inches from mine. I could see the pulse jumping in his neck. I could smell the whiskey and the spice of his cologne. "And right now, I want to break every single one of them."

"Damian, the contract... it says no personal contact," I reminded him, but my body was betraying me. I was leaning toward him, my lips parting instinctively.

"To hell with the contract," he growled.

He moved in. His lips were a hair’s breadth from mine. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to know what the Ice King tasted like. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact—

Suddenly, the silence was shattered.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

His phone on the marble island started screaming. The sound was like a bucket of ice water being poured over both of us.

Damian froze. He blinked, and I watched the mask of the Ice King slide back into place. It happened in a split second. The heat in his eyes vanished, replaced by that familiar, frozen stare. He pulled away from me so fast it made my head spin.

"Go to bed, Elena," he said, his voice harsh and cold again.

"But, Damian—"

"I said go!" he shouted, making me flinch. "The dress is open. You got what you wanted. Now get out of my sight before I do something we both regret."

He snatched his phone and walked away without looking back. He entered his study and slammed the heavy oak door so hard the glass in the penthouse rattled.

I stood there in the dark hallway, clutching my dress together, trembling from head to toe. I felt like a fool. A desperate, pathetic fool. I had almost let him kiss me. I had almost forgotten that I was just a girl he had bought for a year.

"I hate you, Damian Black," I whispered to the empty hallway.

But as I walked to my bedroom, tears stinging my eyes, I knew I was lying. I didn't just hate him. I was terrified of him. Because for a moment, I had seen the fire behind the ice, and I knew that if he ever truly touched me, I would never be the same again.