Fahama_Rizwan

He believes in purpose.
She believes in power.
Neither believes in love — until they collide.

When idealistic nonprofit founder Will Bennett locks eyes with Eliza Darcy, the tech world's coldest CEO, it's not sparks that fly — it's shrapnel.

She calls his life’s work charity cosplay.
He calls her emotionless corporate ice.
But fate—and a high-stakes pitch—throws them back together.

Behind her glass empire and polished armor, Eliza hides a past built on abandonment and ambition. She’s clawed her way to the top by trusting no one and feeling nothing. Will? He builds futures from the ground up, with nothing but heart, grit, and maddening optimism.

Their attraction is inconvenient. Their chemistry is undeniable.
And when secrets, scandals, and a media storm threaten everything they know, both must choose:

Hold their pride.
Or risk it all to melt the ice between them.

Slow-burn. Sharp banter. Soul-deep connection.
Beneath Her Ice is a steamy enemies-to-lovers CEO romance about breaking barriers, rewriting power, and choosing vulnerability in a world that worships control.
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This work is based on my thoughts , about how I wanted this to go not on what is the norm out there , this one is truly close to my heart after "The Servant's Son" .
I hope you all out there would also come to love this one , as it contains bits from my vision of love .

Beneath Her Ice

Not with the tiny sounds—hiccups, rustles, the sharp surprise of a newborn cry—that echoed in the quiet between breaths. The sun had long dipped below the horizon, and soft shadows stretched across the nursery, where muted walls held dreams yet to be dreamt.

Eliza sat in the rocking chair, cradling Lyra to her chest, gently swaying. Her nightgown clung to her in soft cotton folds, hair mussed from labor and now from exhaustion, but her eyes… her eyes were wide open.

Lyra's mouth worked hungrily against her skin, and every tug sent sparks through Eliza's aching body. Not painful. Just real.

Will stood nearby, leaning against the doorframe. He hadn't spoken in the last ten minutes, not since she asked him to dim the lights. He just watched them—his wife and daughter—like if he looked away, he might miss something sacred.

"You're staring," she murmured, voice worn thin but warm.

He crossed to her slowly, crouching beside the chair. "I can't help it. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Her eyes shimmered, too tired to argue, too full to dismiss it.

She shifted slightly, wincing, and he was immediately there, hands ready to steady her, to move the blanket or adjust the pillow. She touched his wrist, stilling him.

"I know," he said. "But you don't have to do any of it alone."

Lyra made a small noise, eyes fluttering beneath dark lashes, and Eliza stilled completely, afraid to even breathe.

Will leaned forward and pressed a kiss to their daughter's head, then one to Eliza's temple.

"I didn't think I could love you more," he whispered. "But now I've seen you with her."

Eliza blinked hard, biting the inside of her cheek.

"You're going to spoil us," she said.

"Already do," he replied, easing up to his feet and reaching for her hand. "Come to bed. We'll take turns."

"In theory," she murmured, carefully rising with Lyra held close. "You'll sleep through everything, won't you?"

He grinned. "Probably. But I'll lie convincingly."

They walked back to their room—their daughter's bassinet already tucked beside their bed. The sheets were fresh, the room softly lit with amber nightglow. Eliza eased under the covers while Will took the baby, pacing gently with her across the room. It didn't take long before Lyra's breathing deepened, warm and small against his chest.

"I can't believe she's here," Eliza whispered.

She chuckled. "She's not even a day old."

"She's still fiercer than most of my board."

Will lowered her into the bassinet with infinite care, then turned to Eliza and crawled into bed beside her. She curled toward him, her body sore, her mind still racing, but her heart?

He pulled the blankets up around them, one arm tucked around her shoulders.

The house creaked. Lyra sighed in her sleep.

Will kissed Eliza's fingers where they rested between them.

And for the first time in her life, Eliza realized that home wasn't a place.

Chapter 67 – “The First Night”