MELTING ICE

The days following the wedding were a whirlwind of meetings, public appearances, and carefully orchestrated photo ops. The press was relentless, branding us as the city's newest power couple. Damon and I played our parts flawlessly, but behind the scenes, the lines between duty and desire began to blur.

It started with small moments. A lingering glance across a crowded room, his hand brushing mine during a photo shoot, the way his voice softened when he spoke my name. Damon DeMarco was an enigma, a man who carried the weight of two worlds on his shoulders, and yet, when we were alone, I saw glimpses of something deeper—something that intrigued me more than I cared to admit.

---

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of back-to-back meetings, I found myself in the grand library of our shared home. The room was massive, with floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books that looked like they hadn't been touched in years. I sank into one of the leather armchairs, a glass of wine in hand, and tried to lose myself in the pages of a novel.

"You always work this hard?" Damon's voice broke the silence, smooth and low, like a warm breeze on a cold night.

I looked up to find him leaning against the doorway, his tie loosened and the top buttons of his shirt undone. He looked effortlessly handsome, and I hated how my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

"Coming from the man who's running an empire?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow. "You're one to talk."

He smirked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "Touché. But even I know when to take a break."

"And what exactly are you doing right now?" I asked, watching as he crossed the room and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

"Taking a break," he said simply, settling into the chair across from me. "With you."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't hide the smile tugging at my lips. "Is this your way of trying to charm me?"

"Is it working?" he asked, his blue eyes glinting with mischief.

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're impossible."

"And you're fascinating," he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "I've never met anyone like you, Vivienne."

His words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond. There was something in his gaze, something raw and honest, that made my heart race.

"You don't know me," I said quietly, looking down at my glass.

"I'm trying to," he replied, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "But you keep pushing me away."

I met his gaze, the intensity of his focus making it hard to breathe. "Maybe I'm afraid of what you'll find."

Damon tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he was determined to solve. "You don't scare me, Vivienne. You challenge me. And I like that."

His words sent a thrill through me, and I hated how much I wanted to believe him. "You're not what I expected," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"And what did you expect?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Someone cold, calculating, ruthless," I said, my honesty surprising even me. "But you're… more."

"Don't let the suit fool you," he said, his tone laced with humor. "I can be all those things when I need to be. But with you…" He paused, his gaze softening. "With you, I don't want to be."

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt the air between us shift. The room seemed smaller, the distance between us shrinking with every passing second. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing, letting the silence speak for me.

---

The next morning, I found a note on the kitchen counter, written in Damon's neat handwriting.

Vivienne,

Take the day off. I'll meet you at 7. Dress comfortably.

– Damon

Curiosity and apprehension warred within me as I stared at the note. Damon wasn't the type to make spontaneous plans, and the idea of spending the evening with him—alone—left me both excited and nervous.

When the clock struck seven, I found myself in a pair of jeans and a simple blouse, waiting in the foyer. Damon appeared moments later, dressed casually in a leather jacket and dark jeans, looking every bit like the man I had first met at the bar.

"You ready?" he asked, his smile warm and inviting.

"Where are we going?" I asked, following him out the door.

"You'll see," he said, his tone teasing.

---

He drove us to a quiet spot outside the city, a place where the lights of the skyline gave way to open fields and endless stars. He had set up a picnic beneath a large oak tree, complete with blankets, lanterns, and a bottle of wine.

"I didn't take you for the romantic type," I said, unable to hide my surprise.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he replied, his eyes glinting with amusement. "But I'm hoping to change that."

We spent the evening talking, laughing, and sharing stories. For the first time since this whirlwind began, I felt like I could breathe. Damon wasn't the ruthless businessman or the head of a powerful syndicate. He was just a man—a man who made me laugh, who listened, who saw me in a way no one else ever had.

As the night wore on, he leaned back against the tree, his gaze fixed on the stars above. "You know, I've built skyscrapers, shaped skylines, and controlled empires. But none of it compares to this."

"To what?" I asked, my voice soft.

"To being here, with you," he said, turning to look at me. "You make me feel like I can be more than the man the world sees."

His words hit me like a tidal wave, and I felt my walls begin to crumble. "Damon…"

He reached out, his hand brushing against mine, and the spark that ignited between us was undeniable. "Tell me you feel it too," he said, his voice low and filled with longing.

I hesitated, my heart racing. "I do."

And in that moment, with the stars above us and the world forgotten, I let myself fall. Damon leaned in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was both tender and electrifying. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and possibilities, of a connection that went deeper than either of us could have imagined.

For the first time in a long time, I felt alive. And as I lost myself in Damon's embrace, I knew that this was only the beginning.