Page 3 of Trapped with the Ice Queen

For the first time, the thought occurred to her in sharp, painful clarity: no one was coming.

The flashlight beam wavered as her hand shook. The snow outside was already halfway up the doors. In anhour, maybe two, she’d be completely buried. The SUV’s sturdy frame might hold, but it wouldn’t save her from the cold.

She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a shaky exhale, trying to shove the panic back into the box where it belonged. Panic wouldn’t help. Logic would. She needed a plan.

The SUV had to have some feature she’d overlooked, something meant for situations like this. She tapped the dashboard, cycling through the menus, but every screen displayed the same taunting message: System Offline.

Frustrated, she shoved open the center console and froze. Beneath a stack of receipts and loose change was an unopened granola bar.

Relief flooded her chest, even as she realized how absurd it was to feel hopeful over something so small. She tore the wrapper open and bit into it, the taste of oats and honey grounding her for a moment. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

The act of eating seemed to remind her body just how much it was lacking. Her stomach growled louder, and a faintheadache throbbed at her temples. She hadn’t eaten since lunch—a rushed salad scarfed down between back-to-back meetings before she had left the city.

“I’ve survived worse,” she said aloud, as if hearing her own voice might convince her it was true.

But had she? Had she really ever been this alone, this vulnerable?

Her gaze flicked to her phone again, though she knew better than to expect a miracle. The expensive device was nothing more than a paperweight now, its screen stubbornly refusing to light up with bars or messages. She turned it off to conserve battery, just in case, and tucked it back into her bag.

The wind howled, rattling the SUV. Vivienne flinched instinctively, her eyes darting to the window. The snow was falling harder now, each gust sending it swirling like waves crashing against the car.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind again: “Blackwood women don’t panic, darling.”

“Well, maybe they should,” Vivienne muttered bitterly, her voice barely louderthan the storm.

She shifted in her seat, pulling the space blanket tighter around her shoulders. The material crinkled loudly, breaking the deafening silence inside the car. She hated the sound of it, hated how cheap and flimsy it felt. A billionaire socialite reduced to sitting under a scrap of tin foil, freezing in a dead car on the side of a mountain.

Her thoughts turned to Chloe again. Chloe, who had laughed in her face when she’d confronted her about the affair with the personal trainer. Chloe, who had called her “cold” and “controlling,” as if that somehow justified fucking the paid help.

“You are impossible to love, Viv,” Chloe had said, the words cutting as sharp now as they had a year ago.

Vivienne clenched her jaw, shoving the memory away. It didn’t matter. Chloe didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to die out here thinking about her ex.

Her fingers brushed the road flare in the passenger seat, and an idea sparked. If she couldn’t rely on the SUV’s lights or horn to signal for help, maybe the flare could attract attention. Someone—anyone—might see it and come.

She pulled on her boots, wincing as the cold leather met her bare legs, and wrapped the blanket around herself like a shawl. The icy metal of the door handle stung her palm as she gripped it, and she hesitated for a moment.

The storm outside roared, a wall of white and wind that seemed determined to swallow her whole.

She shoved the door open and stepped out.

The wind hit her like a physical force, stealing her breath and sending the blanket whipping behind her. Snow clung to her lashes and hair, blinding her as she stumbled forward, clutching the flare like a lifeline.

Her boots sank into the drifts, the cold seeping through the soles almost instantly. She fumbled with the flare’s cap, her numb fingers struggling against the tiny plastic ridges.

Finally, with a snap and a hiss, the flare came to life, its red light cutting through the storm like a beacon. Vivienne held it high, waving it back and forth, her teeth chatteringviolently.

“Help!” she shouted, though her voice was lost almost immediately in the wind.

She stood there for what felt like an eternity, her arm aching from holding the flare so high. The snow continued to fall, relentless, covering the SUV’s roof now. The glow of the flare illuminated the storm in eerie, flickering shades of crimson, but it revealed no movement, no signs of life.

Her hope faltered, then broke entirely. She let the flare drop into the snow, where it sizzled weakly before fading.

The world went dark again, the storm swallowing her completely.

Shivering uncontrollably, Vivienne clawed her way back to the SUV, her muscles burning with every step. By the time she collapsed into the driver’s seat, her body felt like ice, and her breathing was ragged.

She pulled the door shut behind her, but the cold had already invaded the vehicle and her body, settling into her bones. The blanket offered little comfort now, no matter how tightly she wrapped it around herself.

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