Beneath Her Ice

To celebrate the new collection this book received , I've decided to release two extra chapters today, and for every additional collection there will be a following release of two extra chapters 🥳🥳🥳🥳 

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Eliza Darcy had spoken at global tech summits, venture capital retreats, even once at the United Nations digital governance panel.

But tonight's event — co-hosted with Will's foundation — required something she hadn't expected.

A speech from the heart.

No keynote address on innovation. No slides. No prepared stats. Just… her.

Raw. Real.

Terrifying.

Two hours before the event, Eliza stood in their shared bathroom in a silk blouse and slate-gray trousers, applying lipstick with the precision of a surgeon. Her reflection was flawless. Her insides were chaos.

"I can write it for you," Will said gently, leaning against the doorframe with a glass of water. "Or better—don't write it at all. Just speak. You're more honest that way."

She shook her head, uncapping mascara. "You don't understand."

"Try me."

"If I say the wrong thing, I tank my company's image. If I say the right thing but too softly, I get branded as performative. There's no winning."

"There's being you," he said. "And that's already more than they deserve."

She blinked, hand stilling. His belief in her was the kind that cut straight through all her practiced detachment.

"Come here," she said.

He stepped closer. She kissed him—light at first, then deeper. It wasn't about comfort. It was about grounding.

When they parted, she whispered, "Stay near me tonight."

He nodded. "Always."

The event hall glowed with warm lights and long tables set with both laptops and wine glasses — a literal meeting of minds. The crowd was a strange mix of suits and sandals, coders and clinicians, donors and dreamers.

Will spoke first. Natural. Easy. Magnetic in the way only a man with nothing to prove could be.

When it was her turn, Eliza walked to the podium like a queen on familiar ground. But inside, she was frayed silk.

She paused, looking out at the crowd.

Then she set her notes aside.

"My name is Eliza Darcy," she said. "And for most of my life, I believed vulnerability was a liability."

A hush fell.

"I believed empathy could be exploited. That trust was just another word for losing control."

She exhaled slowly, fingers tightening on the edges of the podium.

"But then I met a man who builds with belief. Who doesn't treat idealism like a weakness. And somehow, I began to see the world—not just through code, but through connection."

Will's eyes didn't leave hers. She didn't need to look to feel it.

"This partnership—between Darcy Innovations and the Bennett Foundation—isn't about headlines. It's about healing the digital divide. It's about using power to protect, not posture. And if that means learning to feel again… so be it."

A beat. Then two.

Applause rose like thunder. But Eliza barely heard it.

Because she wasn't listening for praise.

She was listening for him.

And when she met Will's eyes, standing just beyond the edge of the stage, hands in his pockets and heart written all over his face—

She knew.

She'd just told the truth. Out loud. In her own words.

And nothing had ever felt more right.

Later That Night

Back in their apartment, she peeled off her heels and set her phone face down on the counter.

Will walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You were…" he said softly, "everything."

Eliza turned in his arms. She didn't speak.

She kissed him instead.

Hard. Hungry. Needing.

And he answered with the same heat.

The way his hands gripped her hips. The way her blouse fell open. The way he lifted her onto the kitchen counter again like they were both addicted to the gravity between them.

This time was different.

Not rushed. Not playful.

This time was reverent.

When they made love on that counter, it wasn't about heat or wildness — it was about belonging. Her fingers threaded through his hair. His lips traced the hollow of her throat. She gasped his name with abandon, no longer afraid of the weight it carried.

When they were both spent, bodies tangled and hearts wide open, Eliza rested her forehead against his and whispered, "I never thought I'd say something like that… in public."

"You didn't just say it," he said softly. "You meant it."

She smiled, chest rising slowly. "That's the scariest part."

He kissed her gently. "Then we're doing this right."