Love On Ice: Don't Leave Me, My Charming Liar

The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion.

"Ethan... take it easy..."

Nyla Green's voice wavered as she gripped the corners of the pillow. The dim glow of the bedside lamp painted her flushed cheeks in a soft, rosy hue, adding a playful intimacy to the moment.

"And how should you address me?" Ethan Brooks teased, his voice a low rumble as he leaned in, grazing her ear with his teeth. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine.

"Uncle Ethan... please..." she gasped, her voice catching as she curled into his embrace.

Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. Her obedience always thrilled him, and her breathless pleas only added fuel to the fire.

It was a dynamic he relished. He loved when she called him that both in and outside the bedroom. It served as a reminder as well as a way to spice up their intimacy. Nyla always found herself with no choice but to address him that, embarrassed and annoyed.

Two weeks apart had only heightened Ethan's need for her. His business trip had been long, and he'd missed her body. Despite having had sex with Nyla many times, he still found her body irresistibly attractive. He naturally wouldn't settle for one round.

Sensing his desire, Nyla moved against him, her lithe body swaying as she sought to meet his needs.

"Being so eager tonight, aren't you?" Ethan murmured, his tone laced with amusement.

"Don't you like it when I'm eager?" Nyla whispered, her voice coy yet tinged with boldness. "Uncle Ethan... it's been a while since we tried something new."

He arched a brow, his grip tightening on her waist as he shifted their positions with ease. The hunger in his eyes was undeniable.

"Then don't disappoint me," he said, his voice thick with authority.

Nyla swallowed hard, her face turned away as she braced herself, determined to please him. She had a favor to ask tonight, and she knew Ethan wasn't the type to grant requests freely.

By the time their fevered exchange finally finished, the early hours of morning had crept in. Nyla lay tangled in the sheets, her skin marked with faint impressions of their passion, the cool air biting at her exposed legs.

She propped herself up as Ethan emerged from the bathroom moments later, his lean frame illuminated by the pale light. Droplets of water clung to his chest and slid down his chiseled abs, leaving little to the imagination.

He lit a cigarette, settling into the armchair by the window, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "What is it you want?" he asked, exhaling a plume of smoke, his tone casual but sharp.

"Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face.

"Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly.

"I want to be Mrs. Brooks."

The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine.

Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray with deliberate force, as if snuffing out her boldness. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?"

Nyla bit her lip, her hands trembling as she clenched the sheets. "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?"

Callie Higgins-the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love-the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right.

Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well.

"I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I-"

"Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?"

"Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit-still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped.

The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice.

Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore."

Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "You're the one who climbed into my bed back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?"

It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars.

Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mistress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother-pregnant with Ryland's child-married him.

The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain.

Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection.

Now, she faced him-her bare shoulder exposed as the thin sheet slipped down. Her smooth skin shimmered in the dim light, a picture of temptation and allure.

"So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. "Bedmates? Lovers? Or just friends with benefits?"

Ethan's gaze lingered on her face-dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. His suppressed desire reignited, flickering in his eyes.

"If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her and lit another cigarette.

The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet.

Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his sexual partner, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross.

"Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow-Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place.

She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm.

Ethan's expression darkened as he exhaled a plume of smoke. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?"

Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on."

Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, pulling her down onto his lap. Her smooth legs brushed against him, igniting the tension once more.

"Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bed, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that."

Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic."

The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence.

Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name.

Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation.

Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bed. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chest.

"I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving."

The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away.

If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go.

Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio-a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy.

But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down.

After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went.

As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her.

"Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything."

Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work."

Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk.

Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms.

Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him.

Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable.

For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be-a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact.

But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan.

The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge.

She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even.

Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us."

Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family."

Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You-" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future."

Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches.

"I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee.

Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar."

She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable.

If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling.

Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mark on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!"

Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused.

"And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave."