Ice in his eyes Fire in his hands

The mansion felt empty, too silent as Isabella walked through the corridors, the echoes of her heels like distant thunder. The weight of the wedding gown still clung to her, the lace and satin a constant reminder of the life she had just sealed away. She should have felt relief. She should have felt the triumph of duty completed. Instead, she felt suffocated, like the walls themselves were closing in on her.

Sebastian had barely spoken to her after the ceremony. His cold, detached manner had remained in place, and she found herself almost grateful for the silence. He had taken his place beside her, a silent, stoic figure in a room full of smiling faces and forced congratulations. Their union was a business arrangement, everyone knew it, and everyone played their part.

But now, in the solitude of the private suite, the air between them was thick with something else. Something palpable. Something that felt more dangerous than any contract.

Isabella stood at the foot of the bed, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to steady her breathing. The dress felt heavier now, an oppressive weight on her shoulders. She could feel her pulse thudding in her ears, a drumbeat that only grew louder the longer she stood there.

Then, the door clicked shut behind her.

She didn’t turn around at first. She knew he was there, behind her, and the knowledge of his presence was enough to send a shiver down her spine. There was something about Sebastian Blackwell—something that made her both want to run and pull closer at the same time.

When she finally faced him, Sebastian was standing in the middle of the room, his dark eyes already fixed on her. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, but his gaze was sharp, intense—like he was carving her into pieces with nothing but his stare. His usual coldness was still there, but something else simmered beneath it. Something dangerous.

For the first time, Isabella felt like prey.

“Your drink, Mrs. Blackwell,” he said, his voice low, gravelly—a tone that seemed to wrap around her throat and squeeze.

She watched as he walked toward the bar, his every step calculated, each movement a perfect display of control. He poured a single glass of whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light, and then turned toward her.

Isabella stayed rooted to the spot, not sure whether she wanted to flee or stay. Part of her—maybe the part that had always followed the rules, never strayed too far from the path—wanted to walk out the door and never look back. But then there was the other part, the one that had been awakened by the kiss earlier, the one that couldn’t help but feel the pull of something she couldn’t name.

Sebastian’s eyes locked onto hers as he brought the glass to his lips, his movements slow, deliberate, as if savoring the moment. Then, with a smooth motion, he set the glass down on the table and took a step toward her.

Isabella’s breath caught in her throat.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, but still laced with that same, undeniable power. “I’ve never been one for small talk. But tonight, I think it’s time we address the elephant in the room.”

Her eyes narrowed, her heart speeding up. “What’s that?” she asked, her voice a little too steady, a little too controlled.

“The fact that this”—he gestured to the space between them—“isn’t what either of us wanted.”

It wasn’t a question, but she felt the need to respond anyway. “Then why are we here, Sebastian?”

“Because you don’t have a choice,” he said, and his words weren’t cruel, but they hit her like a slap. “Just like I don’t. But you’re forgetting something important.”

Isabella swallowed, her chest tightening at the intensity of his gaze. She tried to stand her ground, but every inch of her screamed to back away.

“And what’s that?” she managed to ask.

“You signed up for this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Now, we both have to play the part.”

A chill ran down her spine as he closed the distance between them. He was so close now, too close. His scent—leather, smoke, something dark and expensive—surrounded her, filling her lungs. His hand brushed her cheek, his fingers cold against her skin. The contrast of his ice-cold touch and the heat that flared inside her made her head spin.

His gaze moved down to her lips, then back to her eyes. “But, I’m not sure you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into yet.”

Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips crashing onto hers.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t a kiss of affection. It was punishing. Demanding. His lips pressed hard against hers, forcing her to respond, forcing her to submit.

The kiss was like a spark to dry kindling. At first, Isabella’s instincts screamed for her to pull away, but the longer Sebastian kissed her, the more that instinct started to fade. His mouth was fierce, taking control, but there was something else—something beneath the coldness—that made her body betray her.

His hand slid into her hair, tugging her head back, deepening the kiss. Her breath hitched as she felt the fire spread through her veins, the desire she hadn’t wanted to feel, the craving she hadn’t asked for. But it was there. A heat that burned low in her belly, making her heart race and her skin flush.

His lips left hers, trailing down her neck, his breath hot against her skin. Isabella’s eyes fluttered closed as his hand moved down to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His chest was solid, unyielding, and she could feel the hardness of him through the fabric of his suit.

She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but no words came. The heat of his touch, the strength in his grip, silenced her.

“You want to fight this, don’t you?” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “You want to hate me. But the truth is, Isabella, you can’t.”

She could feel his heart thudding against her chest. His lips were almost teasing against her skin as he spoke, each word dripping with authority.

The fire between them burned hotter, the tension thickening in the air. And just as her breath caught, as she found herself on the edge of something she couldn’t name, Sebastian pulled away.

His eyes were dark, filled with an unreadable emotion. “You’ll learn, Isabella. You’ll learn exactly what it means to be mine.”

He turned abruptly, walking away from her, leaving her standing in the silence that followed. Her chest heaved with each breath, her body trembling with a mixture of rage, longing, and confusion.

Just when she thought the storm had passed, he stopped at the door, his hand on the handle.

“And just so you know, Isabella,” he said, his voice low and chilling. “This marriage—this contract—is only the beginning.”

And with that, he was gone.

Isabella stood there, heart pounding, feeling the weight of the night settling in her chest. She was trapped. The reality of it was undeniable. And as the door clicked shut behind him, her thoughts turned to the fire he’d lit inside her.

Was it possible to hate someone…and want them at the same time?