When she stepped back out, her mask was already in place.

“I just received a message from Dad,” she said evenly. “I need to go back to the office.”

Nathaniel’s gaze lingered on her, too steady, too knowing. He could see through her lie—could practically taste the way she wanted to escape him.

“Alright,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll drive you back.”

Relief softened her shoulders. The plan had worked. At least for now.

The car ride was quiet, the city lights flashing across the windshield. When he pulled up in front of Salvatierra & Co., she unfastened her seatbelt, already half-turned to go. Nathaniel leaned closer, lowering his voice, playful in his tease, “So, tomorrow—”

Victoria turned to cut him off. “Goodbye. See you tom—”

Her words collided with him. Their lips brushed, soft and sudden. Both stilled, suspended in the moment.

But Nathaniel didn’t hesitate. He seized it. His lips pressed against hers, sure and deliberate. Heat flared, unexpected, and for a heartbeat Victoria faltered—then she wrenched away, breaking the kiss. Without a word, she threw open the door and bolted, heels clicking against the concrete.

Nathaniel remained in the car, watching her retreating figure. Slowly, he leaned back into the seat, touching his lips with his fingers.

I was only going to tease you… but you turned, Victoria— A slow smile curved across his face.

He hadn’t meant to kiss her, not really. Just to tease, to graze the edge. But her lips were dangerously soft, and he almost faltered—almost.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, savoring the memory of her lips against his. It had been eleven years since he last kissed her—long enough for the memory to blur into something almost unreal. Yet when their lips met again, it was as if his body remembered what his mind had long forgotten. The softness, the warmth, the quiet tremor of her breath against his… it all came rushing back, pulling him into a tide of longing he thought he’d buried. For a single, stolen heartbeat, the years between them vanished—only the taste of her remained, achingly familiar and dangerously sweet. The thought stirred a quiet hunger within him. Slowly, he opened his eyes. If she hadn’t pulled away, he might have deepened the kiss—just to taste a little more of her.

Meanwhile, as Victoria headed down to the basement, she walked briskly toward her car. The moment she got inside, she tossed her bag onto the passenger seat with irritation. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She wanted to scream—she didn’t even know why. There was this overwhelming storm of emotions swirling inside her, pressing against her chest until it felt like her heart might explode.

Her lips trembled, her throat ached, and tears threatened to spill—but she refused. No… no… she kept telling herself. Crying would only ruin her mascara. She inhaled sharply, exhaled, then again—in, out—trying to steady her breath. But her heart was stubborn, racing wildly as if defying her command.

She pressed a hand to her chest. “Stop… stop…” she whispered, her voice breaking. Whatever this emotion was—anger, confusion, longing—she couldn’t name it, and that terrified her. It made her feel like she was losing her grip.

So she forced herself to breathe again, slower this time. She shook her head, straightened her back, and willed her features into calm perfection. The icy mask returned, flawless and composed. She wouldn’t feel. She couldn’t feel.

And with that, her resolve hardened—cold, steady, and unyielding.

That night, Victoria curled beneath her sheets and hugged her cherished teddy bear close, as if it could still keep her safe. Sleep came slowly—then all at once.

The world around her dissolved into the hush of a cavernous cave.

Drip… drip… drip…

Each drop of melting ice echoed through the hollow darkness, a rhythm slow and unsteady, like the first pulse of something long-dead trying to remember life. Frost shimmered on every surface, catching the dim blue light that spilled from nowhere and everywhere at once.

Then—crack.

A thin fragment of ice broke free and fell, splintering against the frozen ground. Beneath the layers of frost, a heart began to stir. Its rhythm faltered, uncertain, but alive.

Footsteps followed—sharp, deliberate.

Clack… clack… clack…

She appeared from the veil of fog—her figure draped in white, her gown glittering like snow caught in moonlight. Loose waves of hazelnut-brown hair cascaded down her back, brushing the crystal fabric. An ice crown rested upon her head, and with each step, light fractured across her like shards of frozen glass. A white snow dog padded behind her, its breath misting into the cold air.

She stopped before the heart. The faint, fragile beat echoed in the silence.

Her hazel eyes gleamed, distant and glacial.

“This won’t do,” she said, her voice calm—beautiful, and cruel.

She reached out. Frost bloomed from her palm, racing across the surface of the heart in a whisper of cold light.

The beating slowed… faltered… then stopped.

The dripping ceased.

The silence deepened.

The air turned colder than before.

Mist swirled around her feet as the cave surrendered again to stillness—
a world frozen by her touch, by her choice.