Authoress_Dovey

✨ Synopsis/ Blurb ✨

She was the forgotten daughter. He was the Ice Prince.
A contract bound them — love was forbidden. But hearts don’t follow rules.

When the Smith family fails to repay a decades-old debt, Florida — the illegitimate, unwanted daughter — is forced into a contract marriage with Bryant Kings, heir to the most powerful fashion empire in the state.

He hates her on sight.
She’s invisible in his world — uninvited, unloved, and bound to his name.
But behind closed doors, she sketches quietly, dreaming of a future where her designs speak louder than her silence.

Their marriage has rules:
No love. No scandal. No public affection — unless the family’s watching.

Then a single photo changes everything.

As secrets build and feelings grow, Florida must choose:
Disappear forever… or finally become someone the world can’t ignore.

And Bryant?
He’ll learn the hard way — even ice melts when touched by the right fire.

MARRIED TO MY ENEMY'S SON

Setting: Rainy Evening – Private Library

The storm had been building since dusk.

Rain streaked across the tall windows of the mansion like tears the sky had refused to hold back. Lightning lit the corridors in flickering flashes. The electricity blinked once, twice, and then returned — fragile and moody.

Florida held the edge of her scarf tighter and wandered into the library.

She hadn't meant to come here. But sleep was a stranger tonight, and silence in her room felt like a scream. The library smelled of old pages and forgotten thoughts — a kind of sanctuary, one she had never dared claim until now.

She froze halfway through the archway.

He sat near the fireplace, legs crossed, jacket still on, a half-filled glass of something amber in his hand. Shadows danced along his jaw, catching the tension in the lines of his face.

But the warmth of the room pulled at her — and for once, he hadn't barked, questioned, or told her to leave.

Her footsteps were soft as she crossed the carpet, tracing her fingers lightly along the bookshelf spines. She chose a worn copy of The Velvet Distance — a love story set in Paris, one she'd read before. Twice. Quietly, she made her way to the window seat.

His voice startled her — not because it was loud, but because it wasn't. It was calm. Casual.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Sometimes."

She looked down at the pages in her hand.

Bryant stared at the fire for a beat, then turned his head toward her.

> "You don't strike me as someone who needs soft," he said, almost curiously.

She opened the book and didn't meet his eyes. "Everyone does. Some of us just don't say it."

Not uncomfortable — just quiet. Heavy.

The minutes stretched into something peaceful.

It wasn't normal. But it wasn't painful.

When thunder rumbled again, louder this time, Florida rose and turned toward the door — until she noticed the rain had become a wall outside. Sheets of it.

A flash of lightning illuminated her hesitation.

> "I'll wait it out," she muttered more to herself than to him.

She flinched slightly — not out of fear, but confusion.

He walked to a cabinet beside the hearth and pulled out a soft grey cashmere blanket. For a second, he just stood there holding it, then crossed the room and set it gently on the armrest of the couch near the window.

> "If you're going to stay," he murmured.

Her throat dried. Her eyes met his.

He didn't reply. Just nodded once and returned to his seat.

And for the first time in months, Florida didn't feel like a stranger in her own home.

Later that night, long after the fire had dimmed and the rain began to quiet, she was still curled beneath the blanket, book unopened in her lap.

But the blanket was warm. And the silence was no longer empty.

Chapter 34