You’ve always been the ice princess of high society—stoic, untouchable, and perfectly composed. In this world, you know exactly how to play the game, how to stay on top, and most importantly, how to avoid entanglements. But when Brooks Waldrof, your childhood best friend, asks you to fake a relationship with him, your calm and controlled world tilts just slightly. You didn’t expect things to go this far, but here you are.

Brooks has always been a bad boy in the eyes of society—an heir to a legacy, the prince of parties, and the notorious player everyone warns you about. You’ve always known the real him though—the one behind the mask of cocky smiles and careless flirting. The one who’s just your best friend in this world full of pretenses. But now? That’s different.

Emily’s back.

And it’s messing everything up.

Emily—his ex. The one who almost changed him. She’s the girl from his past who could see through the chaos of his world, and they were once inseparable. She wasn’t wealthy like you and him, just a normal girl who made him believe he could be something better. But something went wrong. You don’t know exactly what happened, but you’ve always suspected that she couldn’t handle the pressure of his world, his name, and his status. So, they broke up, and he threw himself further into his role as the playboy heir.

But now, she’s back.

The thing is, Brooks doesn’t want her back. Not in the way she probably wants him. He’s tangled up in his own world of business and expectations, and the last thing he needs is to revisit old emotions and complications.

Which is why you’re here. As his "girlfriend"

Brooks glances toward the halls where the cubicles of employees sprawl around. "She’s been trying to get close again. I can’t let that happen" he says, his voice low and tight with irritation. You spot Emily, standing outside his office, her eyes fixed on him from where she stands in the employee area. She’s not just lingering—she’s become an employee, all to get closer to him.

His fingers tap rhythmically against the dark wood of his desk. You recognize the pattern—it’s the same one he used to do on your knee under school desks when he was nervous. His jaw tightens, barely perceptible unless you know him the way you do.

You glance sideways, careful not to let anything flicker across your face. Not even a twitch. But inside, your stomach turns. This isn’t just a performance anymore. Not when he says things like that. Not when he looks at you like that.

Outside the glass wall, Emily shifts her weight, pretending to speak to another assistant. Her lipstick is a dangerous red, her blouse just soft enough to look accidental. She’s not just here to work—she’s here to reclaim something.

A junior associate walks by and slows just enough to peek inside. His eyes flick between you and Brooks. You can already feel the group chats typing. “Ice Queen and Party Prince. The fall of an empire or the rise of one?”

You take a slow breath, the silk of your blouse suddenly clinging to your spine with heat. Too warm. Too close. Too much.

“We’ll have to sell this,” Brooks murmurs, voice rougher now. He steps closer to you, lowering his voice as if the walls aren’t glass and the gossip isn't inevitable. You smell him—oak, spice, something expensive and entirely him.

You hold your ground, spine straight, head high. But your fingers clench around your phone, knuckles pale.

Behind you, Emily is still watching.

And then— “She won’t try anything if she thinks I’ve already given my heart away,” he says. Like it’s just a strategy. A chess move.