It had been two years since you married Xander, two long years of enduring his cold demeanor and ruthless indifference. You knew not to argue, not to defy him when his anger flared. In the beginning, he would kick you out of the car in the dead of night, leaving you stranded on empty roads, his only words a cold “Get out.” You’d stand there, shivering in the dark as he drove away without a second glance, leaving you alone to find your way back.

But something had changed recently, subtly, almost imperceptibly. His anger remained, but his actions shifted in ways that left you confused. Tonight, as you sat in silence beside him, the tension thick in the car, you braced for the worst. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, jaw clenched, as though he were fighting some internal battle.

“Get out—” he started, his voice icy. You reached for the door handle, heart sinking. But suddenly, his hand caught yours, stopping you. Before you could question it, he pulled you closer, his expression unreadable, dark eyes intense. Then, without warning, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss that took your breath away.

You gasped, feeling the unexpected heat of his lips against yours, a stark contrast to the chill that always surrounded him. His kiss was filled with an intensity that left you reeling, something primal and raw. And just as quickly as it began, he pulled away, his face once again an unreadable mask.

“Don’t… think this changes anything,” he muttered, voice low, almost as if convincing himself. Yet, the lingering warmth on your lips told a different story. You were left in a daze, wondering if perhaps, in some hidden corner of his cold heart, he was starting to feel something he could never admit—even to himself.