Victória and Kael crossed the hotel lobby, her heels echoing with refined elegance on the floor, while Kael, beside her, walked calmly.
The gala's air still seemed impregnated in the walls.
"Let's go before some old man tries to make me sign a treaty using wine," Victória murmured, making Kael laugh with that deep and soft sound.
But not everyone was willing to leave them alone.
Liam, Victória's unwanted fiancé, was a few meters away, in a forced conversation with a group of nobles.
Seeing Kael and Victória walking together again, now closer than before, his eyes narrowed like blades.
And then he saw it: Victória holding Kael's arm, both smiling as they approached the private entrance to leave the hotel.
Without wasting time, he discreetly recorded another video.
He sent it directly to the special contact named: Mister Lancaster.
And along, he wrote: "Your daughter seems increasingly comfortable with the prince of Cryon. Maybe it's time to discuss the contract..."
Outside, in the luxurious black car, the lights of New York danced on the windows like modern constellations.
The silence between Kael and Victória was... pleasant. Not awkward. It was mature. Almost intimate.
Both seemed to absorb the last minutes of the gala.
"Are you okay?" Kael asked, breaking the silence, his voice low like a polar whisper.
"Yes... just reflecting on the amount of fake people per square meter."
He smiled slightly, approving her frankness.
Shortly after, they arrived at the nightclub.
The sign pulsed with the word "Abyss," and red and blue lights slithered like snakes in the night air. A huge line of humans stretched down the sidewalk — all dreaming of the privilege to enter the VIP paradise.
Getting out of the car, Kael extended his hand.
It was a calm, natural gesture.
Victória hesitated for a microsecond.
She didn't usually allow touches. She didn't like the feeling of control such gestures usually carried.
But with Kael... the touch seemed to say: "I'm by your side, if you want."
And then, she accepted.
Her hand fit into his with surprising warmth for someone from Cryon. And even though neither said anything, his fingers intertwined with hers spoke louder than any diplomatic verse.
They went up a lit glass staircase and entered the VIP area.
The electronic music vibrated in their bones, but their space was acoustically isolated, with glass windows allowing a view of the boiling dance floor below.
Down there, bodies moved with the freedom that only darkness and anonymity allowed.
Some kissed as if the world would end, others exchanged looks full of fleeting promises, and a waitress with elf ears danced serving fluorescent drinks.
Kael turned to Victória. "Want something to drink?"
"A light one... I'm trying to look sober enough to understand intercontinental politics."
He laughed, signaling a waiter.
Soon, she received a glass with a delicate-looking cocktail, pinkish in color, with petals floating on top.
The taste? Perfect.
One by one, the noble guests arrived.
Kael greeted them with impeccable manners, firm but courteous, and guided them to seats arranged in a luxurious circle.
Victória stayed by his side, elegant and observant, like a silent ambassador.
The negotiations began.
The nobles spoke about tax reductions, customs facilitation, exclusive contracts.
Kael, for his part, demanded sustainability, respect for polar ecosystems, and long-term partnerships without predatory exploitation.
And as the words passed from mouth to mouth, between toasts and arguments, Victória just watched.
But not only the meeting.
She watched Kael.
The way he maintained his posture. The care in listening. The precision in rebutting. The elegance without forcing.
A crushing contrast with that idiot Liam, who barely knew how to talk without seeming like a drunken peacock trying to intimidate a mirror.
And it was there, in that subtle moment, that Victória felt something: a twinge of... irritation.
Irritation for, until that moment, having passively accepted the fate of a convenient engagement. Irritation for not realizing earlier how much she deserved more.
And, maybe, just maybe...
... irritation for beginning to like that ice prince, who didn't even notice that while discussing export tariffs... he played with her fingers.
Softly sliding the tip of his thumb over the back of her hand, without even realizing.
But she noticed.
And so did her heart.
With a serene but firm voice, Kael declared, "The Empire of Cryon is willing to consider a reduction in import taxes for stable partnerships... as long as none of the actions violate the laws protecting polar animals and the icy ecosystem."
A light murmur followed.
One of the nobles, CEO of a famous pharmaceutical corporation, leaned forward. "That is understandable, Your Highness. But... what about the possibility of building a branch in Cryon? With clean technologies, of course."
Another CEO, from the green technology sector, added. "It would be symbolic, Prince Kael. It has been two hundred years since a company was allowed to settle in Cryon."
Kael didn't answer immediately.
His fingers kept playing absentmindedly with Victória's, as if that gesture was a silent anchor that kept him focused.
Then, he answered with diplomatic firmness. "The imperial government of Cryon still maintains the prohibition as a legacy of past mistakes. But... I can take the proposal to my father. Opening for new investments must come accompanied by mutual trust and unquestionable environmental responsibility."
The silence was full of expectation.
Victória, who until then had stayed apart from the negotiations, watching and absentmindedly playing with Kael's hands, comparing her small and delicate hand with his, large, strong, and with fingers as long as a harp player's, raised an eyebrow with a slight sparkle in her eyes.
"Kael," she said softly with a touch of diplomatic mischief. "... what if Diamante Tycoon Group was the first to invest in the Empire of Cryon?"
The looks around turned to her with surprise, curiosity, and, of course, that specific kind of judgment only the very rich know how to disguise.
Kael slowly turned to her, green eyes piercing hers with genuine interest. "Diamante Tycoon... the group founded by you and your friends?"
"Exactly," she confirmed, smiling as she swirled the pink cocktail. "We are still in the early stages... but we've already made some noise in the market."
The nobles, now visibly more alert, exchanged glances and discreet gestures.
The name had circulated an hour ago, a new billion-dollar corporation formed by four of the most influential heirs of global families.
And Victória... the only one still "politically engaged" — which now seemed an unstable game.
One of the nobles pulled a small silver card from his blazer pocket and extended it to her. "In case Diamante Tycoon needs logistics partners, miss..."
"Or international legal advice," said another, handing over a card embroidered with digital runes.
"Export of sustainable materials," added a third with a shrewd look.
Victória laughed lightly. "Thank you. Send your portfolios and maybe we'll see each other again in a room like this."
Kael smiled. It was discreet, but a smile that said: You know how to play.
Then he resumed control of the meeting. "I'm particularly interested in carbon-neutral footprint projects."
The conversation went on for more than an hour.
Empty glasses. Discreet laughter. Semi-signed proposals.
Victória, already slightly drunk, felt her face warm, not only from the drink but from the environment and Kael's presence beside her.
He kept his fingers absentmindedly intertwined with hers, as if the touch were unconscious... but in a way that made her heart race.
With the night deepening and the New York sky sprinkled with helicopter and drone lights, Kael stood up, signaling the closing.
"It was a productive night. Thank you for coming."
One by one, the nobles began to say goodbye, some stumbling slightly, others still offering final toasts that would no longer be accepted.
Victória also stood up, adjusting the tight dress that rose discreetly when she sat.
"You... conduct everything naturally," she commented, averting her eyes. "It's scarily impressive."
Kael offered his arm. "Come. I'll make sure you get back to the hotel in one piece."
She accepted, smiling.
Their car moved down the lit avenue, cutting through New York's pulsating lights with tinted windows protecting what happened inside.
The interior cabin was comfortable, with white leather seats and soft amber lights bathing Kael and Victória in a golden glow.
Outside, the city lights seemed to flicker like drunken stars, or maybe it was just Victória's vision, drunk enough to laugh alone before letting out a long, exhausted... and slightly rebellious sigh.
She turned to Kael, her head resting against the headrest as if the alcohol weighed her body more than necessary.
"It's... pathetic, you know?" she began, her voice dragged but still full of emotion. "I'm the daughter of one of the richest and most influential families in the world... and yet, I'm... a marriage asset. A walking barcode. They want to sell me like I'm an auction jewel."
Kael stayed silent for a moment, watching her sideways.
The soft light reflected on Victória's hair, the alcoholic flush on her cheeks, and the slight tremor in her voice that, despite the playful tone, carried true pain.
She continued.
"You have no idea what it's like. Having an arrogant idiot fiancé... because your father thinks he's a good political merger." She snorted. "You know what he told me the other day? 'After all, you won't have to love me. Just smile in photos.'"
She laughed, but without humor. The laugh died on her own lips.
Kael turned more toward her. His green, icy eyes were warm now, attentive, deep.
"You don't have to accept this, Victória," he said softly but clearly. "You don't have to submit to what your family expects."
Those words, said so gently, hit Victória like a silent punch.
She blinked. The drunkenness made her more fragile, more open, more impulsive.
She stared at him. For too long a moment.
And then, before he could look away, she leaned forward, climbing onto his lap, her legs on both sides, her arms wrapping his neck like a velvet serpent.
Kael tensed but didn't push her away.
"So tell me, Prince..." she whispered, her warm breath brushing his ear. "... what do I do now, huh?"
Kael swallowed hard. His hands stayed by his sides, rigid, respectful... but his eyes scanned her face with an intensity that made the car's interior feel warmer.
"You're drunk," he murmured.
"I'm sober enough to know that... you look at me differently," she answered, breath sweet and perfumed. "Since you held me at the gala. Since you took my hand. You like me... don't you?"
She moved slowly and feline on his lap, just enough to make the physical tension between them solidify like a storm about to break.
Kael closed his eyes for a second.
Her scent was floral and ethylic.
An expensive perfume mixed with champagne and the heat of her body.
The way the dress fit her, the way her hips molded to the position... it was a torture sculpted by cruel gods.
"I do like you," he finally answered. "More than I should."
Victória smiled. It was a victorious, drunk smile, with a touch of lust and need mixed.
She rested her forehead against his, eyes half-closed. "Then kiss me."
Kael didn't move.
But his eyes dropped to her lips, parted, pink, and that silent plea hanging between them like an inevitable sentence.
He brought a hand to her waist, slowly. The other landed trembling on her back. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply...
... and just as his lips were millimeters from touching hers—
The car stopped.
Victória stumbled against his chest with the jolt, laughing softly.
"We're here...?" she whispered, confused.
Kael held her firmly but gently.
The driver opened the door and the cold early morning breeze entered like a bucket of ice.
"Yes," he answered in a low voice. "We're at the hotel."
Victória blinked slowly.
She was still on his lap, hands intertwined behind Kael's neck. Her eyes, full of emotion and desire, seemed to ask time to stop right there.
But he smiled lightly and pressed his forehead to hers. "You'll regret it if something happens today."
She pouted. "Maybe..."
"Then wait," he murmured. "Kiss me tomorrow. When you're sober. When it's real."
Victória slowly slid off his lap, feeling ridiculous for a moment and also amazed. Because he didn't reject her.
He just... cared.
They got out of the car.
Without saying a word, Kael held her hand and they walked together to the hotel lobby, under the eyes of some staff and security who pretended not to see anything.
And as the elevators dinged open, Victória knew that, for the first time in a long time, she wanted to wait.
Not because society demanded it.
Not because her father wanted it.
But because this polar prince was worth it.