Chapter 1: The Ice Queen’s Secret

Adrenaline’s a hell of a drug. I learned that the night I slept with my girlfriend’s best friend—one wall away from where Natalie dreamed, clueless.

There’s a pull between them I can’t resist. Natalie is gentle, like the first warm breeze after winter, the kind of softness you want to breathe in. Aubrey’s wild—a summer storm, unpredictable and electric, a jolt that hits your veins and lingers. With both of them in my orbit, every moment feels like standing at the edge of a cliff, heart pounding, unable to step away. You know you should back off, but the wind’s already in your face, and the drop’s calling your name.

If I could, I’d keep them both. I’d wrap them up in my arms, shut out the world, and pretend nothing could ever touch us.

But jealousy? That’s a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later, it blows. Sometimes it smolders, sometimes it erupts, but it always finds you in the end.

Now, Aubrey wants me to dump Natalie and go public with her—or else she’ll show Natalie the video she took of us together. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl, the threat dangling over me, sharp as a blade, just waiting to drop.

No. Not a chance. Not ever.

So I’m planning to kill her. Sounds crazy, right? But if you were in my shoes, you’d see how far a desperate man might go.

My girlfriend’s name is Natalie Foster. The kind of name you might see on a college honor roll or engraved on a brass nameplate outside a tidy CPA’s office. She wore her ID badge clipped neat to her cardigan, always early, never a hair out of place. Solid, trustworthy. But, man, the story underneath…

When I first met her, I never thought we’d get close. She was out of reach—put-together, sharp as a tack.

She started as the new accountant. The whole office buzzed with rumors, everyone trying to get a read on the girl with the cool stare and killer résumé.

She was young and beautiful, instantly the center of attention. Not just pretty—elegant. She carried herself like chaos never touched her.

But she had the air of an ice-cold beauty, like those untouchable stars in old Hollywood movies—graceful, mysterious, impossible to reach.

Every Monday, a fresh Starbucks cup showed up on her desk. Every Monday, it ended up in the trash, untouched. The janitor started calling it his Monday treat.

She’d claim a booth in the break room, picking at a turkey sandwich, eyes miles away from the microwave crowd. She wasn’t scrolling, not pretending to be busy—just eating, calm, lost in her own world.

Even flowers sent anonymously went straight into the trash. The janitor joked that Natalie’s desk was the best place in the building to pick up a free bouquet.

In just a few days, the guys’ excitement fizzled out. The collective sigh of disappointment was practically audible at the water cooler.

But I didn’t feel lucky about it. Instead, I was anxious all day. The more she kept people at a distance, the more she unsettled me.

Natalie worked with laser focus. I’d watch her, secretly, as she lined up every sticky note and checked every column of numbers twice. Her desk was surgical—nothing out of place.

Even something as basic as an expense report, she’d check and double-check, tapping her pen against the paper, eyes narrowed, hunting for mistakes no one else saw.

That’s why I was sweating bullets about the year-end audit next month. Would she find anything? Every time she glanced my way, a bead of sweat ran down my spine.

I cursed Derek, the last accountant, under my breath every time I found his files. But it was pointless. The mess was mine now.

Earlier, we’d taken advantage of company loopholes and siphoned off over a million dollars. The kind of thing you only see in those late-night true-crime shows—except this time, I was the guy behind the scenes.

He and I split it thirty-seventy. He took the bigger cut, always the risk-taker. I never trusted him, but I needed his access.

If we could survive the year-end audit, those accounts would be sealed—locked away like a safe dropped in the Snake River. No one would ever open them again. The secret would stay buried.

But then Derek bailed. Claimed he had family trouble and quit right before the final month. He left me holding the bag, panic gnawing at my gut.

I tried calling him. He’d already lost all the money gambling—casinos, online betting, blown through everything. His voice on the phone sounded like gravel and cigarettes.

Looking back, maybe it was better he left. If debt collectors came after him and made a scene, we’d both be toast. I pictured some loan shark from Nampa pounding on our doors—no thanks.

So now, it was on me to get through this. The stakes had never felt higher. I woke up at 3 a.m., heart racing, convinced the walls were closing in.

The key was Natalie. She was the last variable, the only one who could ruin me—or save me.

Coming clean? Not a chance. She didn’t look like someone you could bribe. That stubborn streak—you could see it in her eyes. She couldn’t be bought, no matter the price.

The company was downtown Boise—nice benefits, sharp-dressed people everywhere, lobby like a catwalk. Natalie always stood out, understated in a simple blouse and jeans, maybe a cardigan when it was cold.

Her style was simple—no designer bags, no flashy jewelry. She drove an old Toyota, heater rattling on winter mornings.

I tried asking around, playing it casual. She was single, no close family. Her Facebook was a ghost town—just a couple of college photos, nothing recent.

With so many guys chasing her, and her unmoved, it was clear—she wasn’t afraid of being alone. That kind of self-possession? Dangerous for a guy like me.

I was stumped. What did she want? How could I get a hold over her? I ran through every conversation in my head, searching for leverage.

I didn’t believe anyone was made of stone. There had to be something that could move her. I just had to find it.

Lucky for me, the chance came sooner than I thought. I didn’t see it coming, but when it appeared, I jumped.

It happened on a business trip. I was still nervous about the audit, but had to act cool. Business trips make people let their guard down—maybe that’d be my opening.

On the Amtrak, she sat next to me, reading a romance novel. I’d have pegged her for nonfiction or self-improvement—not sappy love stories.

When I glanced over, her eyes were red. She dabbed at them with her sleeve, trying to hide it.

She caught me looking, quickly wiped her eyes, and gave me a half-shy, half-defiant smile. That smile made me forget every excuse I’d rehearsed.

I’d dated enough to know a real smile from a fake. This was real. For a second, the ice melted. I saw the woman underneath.

I handed her a tissue and joked, “Didn’t expect the company’s ice queen to have moments when she melts.”

She closed her book, a little proud. “Who says I’m an ice queen?”

I glanced at the cover and teased, “All those ambitious guys shower you with attention, and you’re unmoved. Looks like I’ve found your secret. I could sell it for a good price back at the office.”

Natalie crossed her arms, turning her head, trying not to laugh. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth, giving her away.

Just then, someone walked down the aisle with a cup of hot ramen. The faint, salty scent of broth drifted through the car—classic travel food.

He stumbled, and boiling water splashed out, hitting the seatback with a loud splatter.

I was by the window. Seeing him wobble, I instinctively reached out, pulling Natalie’s shoulder out of the way, like throwing your arm out when you slam on the brakes.

The scalding water spilled onto my hand, instantly reddening a patch of skin. I gritted my teeth, biting back a curse.

The man apologized over and over. In front of Natalie, I played it cool, but inside I was wincing.

Natalie immediately pulled my hand to her, digging a wet wipe out of her purse and blowing on the burn, dabbing it with gentle, trembling fingers. Her touch was careful, her jaw set. I caught the faint scent of her shampoo—something floral, clean.

Seeing her so nervous, I said, “You’ve dirtied your book. You should’ve made him buy you a new one.”

She shot me a look, brows pinched, like she couldn’t decide if she was mad or worried. “You’re still joking at a time like this?”

“Really, thank you for just now.”

Seeing the faint blush on her cheeks, I wondered if maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling something. Maybe, this time, I’d get an unexpected surprise. As the train rumbled on toward Salt Lake, I let myself hope for the first time.