MELTING ICE

The days that followed the dinner were a blur. I buried myself in work, as I always did when I needed to escape reality. I focused on finalizing the details for the upcoming fashion show, working with my team to make sure everything was perfect. After all, I had a reputation to uphold. Moretti Couture was my life, and I wasn't about to let anyone—least of all Damon DeMarco—disrupt that.

But no matter how hard I tried to push it to the back of my mind, I couldn't shake the memory of his words. We'll see about that, Vivienne. The challenge in his voice still lingered in my thoughts, like a shadow that wouldn't leave.

I wasn't naïve enough to think that the arranged marriage was just going to disappear. My parents had made their decision, and no amount of protesting would change that. But I wasn't going to let it happen without a fight. I had worked too hard to get to where I was, and I wasn't about to let some man—especially a man like Damon—decide my future for me.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that fighting it might not be as simple as I had imagined. Damon wasn't just any man. He was a force. A powerful, ruthless man who had his own empire, his own rules. And he wasn't going to back down easily.

The night of the fashion show arrived faster than I had anticipated, and as I stood backstage, watching the models prepare for the runway, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with the chaos of the show. The lights, the music, the excitement—it was all part of the magic. But tonight, something was different. My mind kept drifting back to Damon, to the conversation we had shared, and to the weight of the decision that loomed over me.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice Bianca approaching until she was right beside me, her hand on my shoulder.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" she said softly, her voice full of knowing.

I turned to her, startled by the question. "What?"

"Damon," she said, her eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "You've been distracted all week. You can't stop thinking about him, can you?"

I opened my mouth to deny it, but the words didn't come. The truth was, she was right. I couldn't stop thinking about him. The way his eyes had held mine at the bar, the way he had spoken to me, his calm confidence—it all haunted me.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, my voice sharp, even though I knew it was a lie.

Bianca raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, please. You're not fooling anyone. You've been acting like a woman on the edge of something big. And I know exactly what it is." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're falling for him, aren't you?"

I felt my heart skip a beat at the suggestion, but I quickly pushed the thought away. "That's ridiculous," I said, my tone defensive. "I don't have time for that. I've got a company to run."

Bianca smirked. "Right. Because falling for a man like Damon DeMarco is such a great idea. He's trouble, Vivienne. You can see that, can't you?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I know he's trouble. I'm not blind, Bianca. But that doesn't change the fact that my parents are determined to make this marriage happen. And I don't have a choice in the matter."

She stared at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. "You always have a choice, Vivienne. Always." She paused, her voice turning softer. "Just don't lose yourself in all of this. You're stronger than that."

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I knew she was right. I had always been the one in control, the one who made the decisions. But now, it felt like everything was slipping through my fingers. I was being pushed into a corner, and I didn't know how to fight my way out.

Before I could respond, the music started, signaling the beginning of the show. Bianca gave me a quick smile and a pat on the back before heading off to her position. I took a deep breath, trying to push aside the nagging thoughts that had taken root in my mind.

The show went off without a hitch, the models strutting down the runway in my latest collection. The audience was captivated, just as I had hoped. But even as I watched my creations come to life on the stage, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. I should have been more excited, more focused on the success of the show, but all I could think about was Damon. His face, his voice, the way he had looked at me—it all consumed me.

As the final model took her turn down the runway, I forced myself to smile, applauding the success of the night. But inside, I was restless, torn between the life I had built and the man who seemed to be determined to tear it all down.

---

The next morning, I found myself in my office, staring at the pile of work in front of me. The show had been a success, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change. My parents had been unusually quiet since the dinner with Damon, and I knew that they were preparing for the next step in their plan.

I had just picked up the phone to call my assistant when there was a knock at the door. I didn't even have to look up to know who it was.

"Come in," I called, my voice tight.

The door opened, and Damon stepped inside, his presence filling the room like a storm. He was wearing a dark suit, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Vivienne," he said, his voice smooth, like he had all the time in the world. "We need to talk."

I didn't respond at first, my gaze fixed on the papers in front of me. "About what?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"About us," he said, stepping closer. "About this marriage. We need to make it official."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "I don't think I'm ready to make any decisions yet," I said, my voice firmer than I felt.

He didn't seem fazed by my resistance. "It's not a decision, Vivienne. It's a reality. Our families have already made their choice. It's time for you to accept it."

I stood up abruptly, pushing my chair back. "You don't get to decide that for me, Damon. I'll decide what's best for me. Not you. Not anyone else."

He stepped forward, his eyes locking onto mine. "You don't have a choice. Not anymore."

The tension in the room was palpable, and for a moment, I thought I might snap. But instead, I took a deep breath, trying to regain control.

"You can't control me," I said, my voice steady, but my heart was racing. "I'm not some pawn in your game."

Damon's lips curled into a small smile, but there was no humor in it. "We'll see about that, Vivienne."

And with that, he turned and walked out of my office, leaving me standing there, feeling more trapped than ever.

---

The dance was far from over, and I was beginning to realize that Damon DeMarco was a man who never lost. And if I wasn't careful, I might just lose everything I had worked for.