Chapter 9 Beneath the ice

The next day, the air between Damien and Arielle was colder than ever.

He barely spoke to her at breakfast, his gaze fixed on the financial reports in front of him as if she didn't exist. Natalia, of course, sat across from them, sipping tea with practiced grace, her gaze flickering between the two like a queen watching a drama unfold in her court.

But Arielle refused to crumble.

If there was one thing she'd learned from being raised by a manipulative stepmother and a spineless father, it was how to wear a calm face even while her heart trembled.

After breakfast, she returned to the library, hoping for solitude. It was one of the few places in the mansion where she felt like herself-among stories and silence.

She browsed the shelves, fingers trailing over leather-bound volumes until a quiet voice behind her made her freeze.

"You're stronger than I thought."

She turned to find Damien standing a few feet away. His expression unreadable, but his eyes... they lingered on her longer than usual.

Arielle closed the book in her hand slowly. "Is that a compliment?"

"Don't get used to it," he said flatly. "But I meant it."

She raised an eyebrow. "You've barely spoken to me since the wedding. What changed?"

He stepped closer, not touching her, but close enough that she could feel his presence like heat radiating from a fire.

"Natalia's trying to break you," he said bluntly. "And yet, you haven't run. Most women would've."

Arielle laughed softly, the sound dry. "Most women weren't sold off like property to a man with a heart of ice."

Damien didn't flinch.

Instead, he said quietly, "You're not what I expected either."

Arielle's breath caught. She looked up at him, truly seeing him for a moment-not the cold CEO, not the feared heir to the Lancaster empire, but a man weighed down by something heavier than she could name.

"There's something about you," he said, almost to himself.

She didn't move. "Is that why I don't trigger your condition?"

His expression tightened. "Don't bring that up."

"Why not? It's real. It's the one thing that binds us."

"You think this is fate?" he asked bitterly. "That just because my skin doesn't burn when you touch me, we're meant to be?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I think it means something."

A tense silence stretched between them.

Then, slowly, Damien reached out-just slightly-and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

She didn't pull away.

He didn't react. No rash. No discomfort. His hand lingered, his thumb grazing her cheek for a moment longer than necessary. The air between them thickened.

But then he stepped back abruptly, as if realizing he'd crossed a line.

"This doesn't change anything," he said coldly. "Don't confuse a moment of curiosity for something deeper."

And just like that, the mask was back.

But Arielle saw through it now. For a fleeting second, she had seen something behind his guarded eyes-something broken. Something real.

---

Later that afternoon, Lila rushed into Arielle's room, her expression pale.

"You need to come with me."

Arielle rose from her seat. "What is it?"

"It's Julian. He's back."

Julian.

She hadn't seen him since that strange conversation in the hallway. Since he warned her about the secrets buried in this house.

She followed Lila down the halls until they reached the back terrace. Julian stood there, leaning against the railing with his usual lazy smirk-but his eyes were alert, sharp.

"Took you long enough," he said as she approached.

"What do you want?" Arielle asked.

"To help you."

She crossed her arms. "You already did. Sort of."

Julian pushed off the railing and walked toward her. "You need to understand something, Arielle. This marriage? It's not just about Damien. Or his condition. Or even Natalia."

"Then what is it about?" she demanded.

Julian glanced around, lowering his voice. "Do you know who really arranged this marriage?"

"My stepmother."

"She was the pawn," he said. "But the deal was orchestrated by Grandfather Lancaster. He needed someone... special."

Arielle blinked. "Special how?"

"Someone immune to Damien's condition. Someone who could protect the bloodline."

The words landed like a stone in her chest.

"You think I was selected?"

"I know you were," Julian said. "They've been watching you for years, Arielle. Since your father's company fell. They saw something in your bloodline-something rare."

Her voice trembled. "What are you saying? That I'm some kind of lab experiment?"

Julian looked at her, suddenly serious. "I'm saying this is bigger than you think. And if you don't start asking the right questions, you'll get eaten alive in this family."

He turned to leave, but paused. "Don't trust everyone who smiles at you, cousin. Especially not Natalia."

---

That night, Arielle stood at the window of her room, watching the lights of the city flicker in the distance. Her heart was a mix of fear and confusion.

She had entered this marriage as a substitute.

Now, it seemed she might be the only real choice.

And she didn't know whether that made her special-

Or a target.

---