MELTING ICE

Chapter 12: Chapter 12: The Cost of Power



The weeks following that conversation with Damon felt like I was living in a parallel universe, where everything I thought I knew about myself and my business was being turned upside down. The world of Moretti Couture, the world I had spent my entire life building, was now intertwined with the shadows of DeMarco Designs, a world I hadn't fully understood and, frankly, wasn't sure I wanted to.

I spent my days buried in work, trying to maintain some semblance of control over the chaos. I reviewed designs, held meetings, and approved fabric swatches, all while my mind constantly drifted back to the contract I had signed. The wedding was approaching faster than I had anticipated, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was no longer just about a union between two people—it was about merging two empires, two worlds that couldn't be more different.

I had always been the one in charge, the one who called the shots. But now, I was at the mercy of forces I didn't fully understand. And every time I looked at Damon, I felt the weight of that truth. He wasn't just a man; he was a force of nature, a whirlwind that I had stepped into, and now, there was no escaping it.

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The day of the wedding was fast approaching. I had spent hours on the phone with my team, making sure every detail was in place, every aspect of the event perfectly planned. The venue was stunning, the guest list a who's who of the city's elite, and the dress—well, it was everything I had ever dreamed of. But none of it felt real. None of it felt like it was for me.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the delicate lace on the neckline of my gown, and tried to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach. The dress was perfect—beautiful, intricate, a masterpiece—but as I looked at myself, I couldn't help but feel like I was staring at a stranger. This wasn't the woman I had imagined myself to be. This wasn't the life I had envisioned. And yet, here I was, about to marry a man I barely knew, a man whose world I wasn't sure I wanted to be a part of.

The sound of footsteps broke my reverie, and I turned to find Bianca standing in the doorway. She was wearing a soft, knowing smile, but I could see the concern in her eyes.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice gentle but probing.

I forced a smile, trying to push away the knot in my chest. "I'm fine," I lied, though I knew she could see right through me.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing the room to stand beside me. "You don't look fine. You look like you're about to walk into a warzone."

I chuckled, though it sounded hollow. "I feel like I am."

Bianca studied me for a moment, her gaze sharp. "Vivienne, I know you've been under a lot of pressure, but this isn't you. This whole thing with Damon—it's not you."

I bit my lip, my hands trembling as I adjusted the veil on my head. "It's not just about Damon, Bianca. It's about everything. The company, my family, my future. I've been so focused on building Moretti Couture, on proving myself, that I never stopped to think about what it would cost. And now, I'm standing on the edge of something I don't know if I can handle."

She placed a hand on my shoulder, her voice soft but firm. "You're not alone in this, Vivienne. You've built something incredible. But you don't have to carry it all on your own. And you don't have to do this for anyone but yourself."

I met her gaze, the weight of her words sinking in. "I don't know who I am anymore, Bianca. I don't know what I'm doing."

Bianca smiled, a genuine, reassuring smile that made the tension in my chest ease, even if just a little. "You're Vivienne Moretti. You've always known exactly what you're doing. And you'll figure this out too. But you don't have to do it alone."

Her words were a balm to my frayed nerves, but they didn't completely erase the unease gnawing at me. I had made my choice. I had signed the contract. And now, I had to face the consequences. But as I stood there, looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing a part of myself in the process.

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The wedding day arrived, and the world outside seemed to stop. The streets of the city were lined with black cars, each one carrying the city's elite to the grand venue where Damon and I were about to seal our fates. The guests were a mix of business moguls, fashion icons, and politicians—people who would ensure that our union wasn't just a personal affair, but a business transaction that would ripple through the world of power and influence.

As I stood in front of the mirror, my hands trembling as I adjusted my dress one last time, I couldn't help but feel like I was stepping into a role that wasn't mine. I had spent my life building Moretti Couture, creating a name for myself, but now, I was about to become a piece in a larger game, a game I didn't fully understand.

Damon had been distant in the days leading up to the wedding. He was always focused, always in control, but there was something in his eyes that told me he was just as uncertain as I was. He had his own demons, his own burdens, and I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same weight of this union that I did.

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The ceremony was grand, the kind of event that would be talked about for years. The flowers were pristine, the music hauntingly beautiful, and the guests were all in attendance, their eyes on us as we exchanged vows. But as I stood there, looking into Damon's eyes, I couldn't help but feel like I was standing in front of a stranger.

I had agreed to this, yes. I had signed the contract, agreed to the merger, but standing there, in front of the altar, I realized just how much I had lost. This wasn't a marriage based on love, or even mutual respect. It was a marriage based on power, on business, on survival.

And yet, as Damon's hand brushed mine, I felt the same electric pull I had felt the first time we met. There was something undeniable about him, something magnetic that kept drawing me in, despite everything I had told myself.

"I do," I whispered, my voice barely audible, but it was enough. Damon's gaze never wavered as he repeated the words, sealing our fates in front of a room full of strangers.

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The reception was a blur of laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of conversation. I smiled, I posed for photos, I played the part. But beneath it all, there was a gnawing emptiness that I couldn't shake. This wasn't the life I had imagined for myself. This wasn't the future I had dreamed of.

As the night wore on, I found myself standing on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against my skin as I stared out at the city skyline. The lights below twinkled like stars, and for a moment, I wondered if I had made a mistake.

"Vivienne."

I turned to find Damon standing behind me, his expression unreadable. He took a step closer, his gaze intense, almost predatory.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said, his voice low and smooth.

I forced a smile, but it didn't reach my eyes. "I'm just playing my part."

He stepped closer, his presence enveloping me. "You don't have to play anything, Vivienne. You've already won."

I met his gaze, the weight of his words settling in my chest. "What if I don't want to win? What if I just want to be free?"

He reached out, his hand brushing my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. "You're not free, Vivienne. Not anymore. But you're not alone. We're in this together."

I closed my eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. And for the first time since this all began, I wondered if I had made a deal with the devil—or if, somehow, I had found something more than I ever could have imagined.

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The night stretched on, and I found myself lost in the crowd once again, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses echoing in my ears. But as I danced with Damon, as I smiled and posed for the cameras, I couldn't help but wonder: was this the price of power? Was this the cost of everything I had ever wanted?

And more importantly, could I ever find my way back to the woman I had once been?

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