Contract with the Ice King

Chapter 4: The Protective King

The ballroom of the Grand Hyatt was a sea of glittering diamonds, expensive champagne, and fake smiles. As the heavy doors opened and the usher announced "Mr. and Mrs. Damian Black," the entire room went silent. A thousand eyes turned toward us, and for a second, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

I felt Damian’s hand tighten on my waist. It was a firm, possessive grip that told me exactly where I belonged.

"Don't look at them," he leaned down and whispered, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. "Look at me. Remember what I told you. You are the only thing in this room that matters."

I looked up at him, and for a moment, I didn't have to act. He looked so powerful and handsome in his tuxedo that it was easy to get lost in his grey eyes. We walked down the stairs, and the flashes of the cameras were like lightning.

"Damian! Over here!" the reporters shouted, but he ignored them. He led me straight into the heart of the crowd.

Waiters in white gloves offered us drinks. Damian took two glasses of champagne, handing one to me. As my fingers brushed his, I felt that familiar jolt of electricity. I quickly took a sip, hoping the alcohol would calm my racing heart.

"Damian, darling! You finally brought her out into the light."

A woman in a tight red dress stepped forward. She was beautiful in a cold, sharp way, with dark hair and eyes that looked like they were made of ice. She looked at me like I was a piece of dirt on her expensive shoes.

"Isabella," Damian said, his voice dropping a few degrees. "I didn't think you’d be here tonight."

"I wouldn't miss the debut of your... little project," she said, her eyes scanning my dress. "Tell me, dear, where did Damian find you? You don't look like the usual girls he spends time with. You look so... innocent."

I felt my cheeks burn. I knew Isabella was his ex-girlfriend. She was a billionaire’s daughter, and she clearly hated me.

"Her name is Elena," Damian said, his voice like a low growl. He pulled me even closer to his side, his thumb stroking the skin of my bare waist. The touch was burning hot. "And I didn't 'find' her. I chose her. There’s a big difference, Isabella."

Isabella laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "Chose her? Or bought her? We all know you, Damian. You don't do anything unless there’s a profit involved. What’s the profit here? A pretty face to show your grandfather?"

I felt a lump in my throat. She was right, and it hurt more than I wanted to admit. I looked down at my glass, feeling like an impostor in my beautiful dress.

"Isabella, that’s enough," Damian said. His eyes were like twin daggers now. "If you say another word to my wife, I will have security remove you. And I will make sure your father’s company loses the Black Enterprises contract by tomorrow morning."

Isabella’s face went pale. She opened her mouth to speak, but she saw the look in Damian’s eyes and changed her mind. She turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "You didn't have to do that," I whispered, looking up at him.

"Yes, I did," he said. He didn't let go of me. Instead, he turned me so I was facing him. He placed his hand on my cheek, his thumb grazing my lower lip. The gesture was so intimate, so steamy, that I saw several people around us gasp. "No one talks to you like that. Not while you wear my name."

"But she was right, wasn't she?" I asked, my voice trembling. "It’s just a business deal."

Damian’s gaze darkened. He leaned in closer, until our noses were almost touching. I could smell the champagne and the spicy scent of his skin. My heart was thumping so hard against my ribs I was sure he could feel it.

"In this room, you are mine," he murmured. "Everything else is noise. Now, dance with me."

He led me to the dance floor. The music was slow and romantic. He placed one hand on my lower back and took my hand with the other. I put my hand on his shoulder, feeling the hard muscle beneath the expensive fabric.

As we moved to the music, I forgot about the contract. I forgot about the money and the fake marriage. It was just me and the Ice King. He moved with a grace that surprised me, his body pressed close to mine. I could feel every line of his hard chest, the strength in his legs as he guided me through the crowd.

"You're a good dancer, Elena," he said softly.

"I took a few classes when I was younger," I replied, looking at his silk tie instead of his eyes. "Before my mom got sick."

Damian went quiet for a moment. Then, he did something I didn't expect. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. It was a soft, tender gesture that didn't feel like an act at all.

"We’re going to get through this year," he whispered against my skin. "I keep my promises."

I looked up at him, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of warmth in those grey eyes. It was gone in a second, replaced by his usual cold mask, but I had seen it.

The music ended, and the crowd began to clap. Damian stepped back, but he kept his hand firmly in mine. "Let’s get out of here," he said. "I’ve seen enough people for one night."

As we walked toward the exit, I felt a strange sense of disappointment. I wanted to stay in that moment, in his arms, where the world felt safe.

But as we stepped into the cool night air and the waiting SUV, I reminded myself of the truth. He was the Ice King. He was a man who bought what he wanted. And I was just the latest thing he had added to his collection.

"Damian?" I asked as the car pulled away from the hotel.

"Hmm?" He was looking at his phone, already back to business.

"Thank you. For defending me."

He didn't look up, but I saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Don't get used to it, Elena. It was just part of the show."

The words felt like a slap in the face. I turned to look out the window, the tears stinging my eyes. The warmth I thought I had seen was gone. The contract was the only thing that was real.