The elevator rose slowly, as if time was conspiring so that every second there would be eternalized.
The ambient instrumental music made no sense at that moment, it was muffled by the muffled sound of Victória's breathing, who was leaning against Kael's chest, his arm resting naturally on her waist.
She was hot.
Literally hot, and not just because of the alcohol or the tight clothes.
It was the heat of that instant. Of adrenaline. Of proximity.
Kael, on the other hand, was... quiet.
But not an indifferent silence.
It was a loaded silence. Of that kind that screams. That holds everything inside, while the world seems to slow down.
When the elevator doors opened with a ding.
Victória did not hesitate. She took his hand, pulling him firmly through the corridors to the entrance of her presidential suite — where a single night could cost enough to buy a house in the countryside.
As soon as the door closed behind them with a metallic click, Kael turned to face her, ready to ask if she wanted water, or maybe say something rational, anything to keep control...
But Victória advanced.
Quick. Decided.
A kiss came.
At first it was awkward. As if their mouths were trying to understand each other in a new language, with misaligned rhythms.
A meeting of inexperience and rushed desire.
The lips brushed more than they fitted, and Victória let out a nervous giggle against his mouth. "Sorry..."
"I should be the one to apologize," Kael murmured, his voice deep, a little hoarse.
But there was no time for more apologies.
The second kiss came with force.
This time, Kael took the reins, and the world seemed to spin.
He was gentle, but firm. His kiss had cadence, pressure, surrender. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing. As if he was kissing not only her mouth, but her soul — taking from her all the weight she carried.
Victória moaned softly against his lips, frustrated to lose leadership in the kiss. Her wounded pride burned but not as much as the whole body, which now seemed to react to Kael's touch as if it had been programmed for that.
Her hands went up to his shoulders, then slid down the firm chest over the suit.
She did not think. She just acted.
She started undoing Kael's jacket buttons, and gently pushed him towards the huge sofa in the suite's living room.
Kael let it happen.
But at the same time...
His hands grabbed Victória's waist firmly. Not rude. But firm.
As if at that instant, the thought of another man even touching her would be enough to set his polar blood on fire.
And that... made Kael want to mark her.
Not with promises.
But with presence.
"You still have a fiancé..." he whispered between kisses, but the voice betrayed what he wanted. He was not trying to hold back. He was just... reminding himself.
"He is an idiot," Victória answered, not stopping taking off his suit, throwing the piece on the floor with an impressive dexterity for someone drunk.
Kael laughed softly, his face close to her neck. "That's true."
Victória lay on the sofa with Kael half on top of her now, both still too dressed for the state of the atmosphere between them.
His eyes shone emerald green under the soft light of the lamp.
She bit her lower lip, looking at him with a childish challenge. "Are you going to keep that ice prince pose... or will you show me that a real man is not made of protocol?"
The question burned in the air.
Kael did not answer.
He just leaned... and kissed her again.
This time, without brakes.
No apologies.
No fear.
Just them.
The kiss between the two deepening, was no longer a meeting of lips, but a controlled storm.
Kael held her as if carrying something precious… with a quick and fluid movement, he stood up with Victória in his arms, bodies still stuck like magnets with insane polarities.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, with no intention of letting go.
Her skin touching Kael's already half-open shirt made every step towards the bed feel like part of an ancient ritual, one that does not need words.
Along the way, muffled laughter and desperate, out-of-sync, passionately drunk kisses of desire and champagne.
The last thing Victória managed to remember was the feeling of her clothes sliding off her body, silk, lace, something being torn and then, black.
The world went out in heat.
—Next day—
The next day arrived like revenge.
The morning light entered through the poorly closed curtain, gentle for the innocent, cruel for those who had danced with the gods at night.
Victória opened her eyes slowly, her head throbbing.
'A gala hangover' she thought ironically.
But she only tried to move... then the real hell began.
"Ouch…" she whispered, trying to get up.
Every muscle hurt as if she had run three marathons in a row... and in the end, had been run over by a polar army truck.
But then the memories came.
One.
By one.
The kiss.
The sofa.
The hands.
The bed.
The clothes.
The hoarse words in the dark.
The heat.
Kael.
The name exploded in her head stronger than the hangover.
She froze for a moment, covering her face with her hands, eyes wide open.
"I... really did that..." she murmured, embarrassed.
But also... happy.
Very happy.
As if that pain in her body was the physical reminder that for the first time, she had done something just for herself.
Peeking at the floor, she saw her dress, or what was left of it, scattered in discreet pieces. The hem was torn, one of the brocades ripped off. She sighed, but smiled with a mocking shine on her lips.
"Wild."
Before she could think more, the bedroom door opened with a soft creak.
Kael entered, impeccable, wearing only dark dress pants and a white shirt with sleeves half rolled up. His hair was tousled in the most charming way possible.
He pushed a breakfast cart with a tray of fresh fruits, juices, eggs and... of course, coffee.
"Good morning, my beautiful sleeping beauty," he said with a crooked smile.
Victória, still lying naked, raised her index finger in a lazy gesture. "I'm going to need... three coffees. And a new spine."
Kael laughed. "It wasn't that bad, come on…"
"You almost took me apart, polar prince."
She tried to get up and cursed softly, then gave him a side glance. "Can I take a shower?"
"Of course."
Without ceremony, and without a bit of shame, Victória got up naked from the bed, throwing the sheet aside.
Kael froze.
His gaze ran over her body as if it was the first time he saw her.
But he said nothing, just sighed, exasperated, like someone trying to keep composure in a minefield of temptations.
She disappeared into the bathroom with a victorious smile.
Minutes later, she came out wearing his shirt, which was huge on her, covering even half her thighs. Wet hair, flushed cheeks, and that perfume mixing expensive soap with... Kael.
"You looked handsome without the suit," she said casually, sitting at the table.
"You looked dangerous with my shirt."
They had breakfast together, talking between sips about nonsense and trivialities.
But there was something in the air. A silence in the middle of the words. An invisible bridge between two worlds.
Then Victória put down the cup.
"Kael..." she said, staring at him.
He stopped chewing the croissant, eyes fixed on her.
"If you promise me..." her voice became lower, firmer, with the kind of courage that only comes after a night like the one they had. "If you promise me you will marry me one day... I will dissolve the contract with the idiot. Even if that means going against my whole family."
The silence stretched.
Kael stared at her for a few seconds that seemed like hours.
Then, he smiled.
A calm, confident smile. Of a prince. But also of a man. A smile that said: "I was waiting for you to say that to me."
"With one condition," he said.
Victória's eyes widened. "What?"
"You call me fiancé... from now on."
She opened a smile so big that her eyes watered. "Deal, fiancé."
Kael stretched his hand over the table, interlocking his fingers with hers.
Moments later, wrapped in Kael's large shirt and with a silly smile on her lips from the promise exchange minutes before, Victória grabbed her iPhone from the side table, ready to reply to the girls' messages in the group.
But as soon as she unlocked the screen…
The notification hell began.
"Ten... twenty... thirty messages?" she murmured, frowning.
There were dozens in the group with the girls, probably comments about the gala, the dress, the ice prince and the flirting in the hall, but in the middle of everything, some bold private messages from an unwanted contact caught her attention: "Dad".
She took a deep breath, already knowing what was coming.
Click.
@Dad: Victória, what was that yesterday at the gala?
@Dad: You not only ignored Liam, but also danced with a man we don't even know who he is.
@Dad: You embarrassed the Lancaster Family!
@Dad: I hope you have an explanation before this situation turns into public shame.
@Dad: Liam sent me recordings. Unbelievable.
Victória rolled her eyes and let out an irritated "tsk." "I knew it! That idiot must have sent everything to the old man..."
Snorting, she lightly threw the phone on her lap, crossing her arms.
Kael, who was finishing a sip of coffee and spreading jelly on a piece of bread, watched the movement with a smirk at the corner of his mouth.
Without saying anything, he stood up from the chair and walked to where she was sitting on the suite's sofa, the phone still flashing notifications.
Without ceremony, or maybe with all the intimacy of a newly promoted fiancé, Kael gently pulled her into his lap, wrapping her in a warm hug.
Victória let out a tired sigh, but snuggled naturally against his chest.
Kael glanced at the phone she was holding and, seeing her dad's texts, laughed openly, with that teasing tone of someone who sees the drama from afar and knows it's just nonsense.
Victória raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "What are you laughing at, Kael?"
He ran his hand through her hair gently, resting his chin on top of her head and replied with light mockery. "Liam seems like a spoiled child who runs to tell the parents when the classmate takes the toy he wanted."
Victória snorted laughing, but the mood soured quickly. "He doesn't see me as a person, Kael. Only as a bridge. A step for the Albrights to climb."
Kael was silent for a few seconds, thoughtful.
Then he held Victória's chin, making her look at him. "You are nobody's property. And definitely not a step."
"Try explaining that to my father," she retorted, trying to sound sarcastic, but bitterness slipped in her voice.
Kael frowned. "I can try."
The tone was half playful, but behind it there was the coldness of a prince capable of freezing oceans if necessary.
Victória laughed. "You're going to march to the Lancaster mansion with your ice cloak and ask me to marry you sword in hand, right?"
Kael raised an eyebrow, pretending to think. "If necessary, I'll go as a polar dragon."
"Do they exist?" she asked, laughing.
"We'll find out together."
They looked at each other for a second, then laughed like teenagers conspiring against the world.
Victória looked back at the phone, where the group messages continued exploding:
@Nikoly: CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN THE VIBE IN THE GALA HALL... NOW.
@CheiroDeTerraPósChuva: Kael flirting with princess Victória. Okay, I've seen everything.
@Lumine: Okay, he is handsome. But I DID NOT EXPECT VICTÓRIA TO FLIRT BACK.
@Nikoly: ...and her fiancé watching from the corner with a funeral face hahahaha
Victória laughed out loud now, almost dropping the phone on the floor.
Kael peeked at the messages and commented. "They like me, huh?"
"Don't get cocky, prince. They're just shocked because... well, I always hated Liam. And never got close to anyone in public before."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Never?"
"Never."
He smirked. "I feel honored then. But... maybe you better block Liam before he sends a truckload of videos to the media too."
Victória rolled her eyes. "I doubt he has the courage. Maybe my dad, but Liam is just noise."
Kael shrugged in a careless gesture and hugged her tighter. "If he comes with more noise, I'll bring snow."
She smiled and snuggled again, murmuring. "I'm starting to like the idea of marrying an iceberg."
Kael kissed her forehead. "Not an iceberg. A volcano... covered with ice."
They laughed together.