~ Evelyn’s POV ~
They say money is the root of all evil.
I’ve never bothered to disagree.
But in this life, you are either the hammer or the anvil, and money is the only thing that decides which one you get to be.
Leaning against the stone railing of the Grand Lumina balcony, my fingers gripped tightly around a glass of thirty-year-old Macallan.
The scotch costing more per sip than my first assistant annual salary.
Below me the city’s self-proclaimed “elite” moved under the massive chandeliers, dressed in expensive designer clothes, flashing fake smiles, and exchanging polite lies over champagne.
From up here, they looked anything but powerful, just tired actors forced to perform in a play I’d seen a thousand times too many.
God I hate these gala’s I sighed in exasperation before gulping down the last drop in my glass, letting the burn settle the cold, empty feeling in my chest.
Up here, the air was thin and the silence blissful.
It was the only place in the entire building where I felt I could be left alone.
Not untill the heavy glass doors creaked open behind me, cutting the silence.
“Ms. Vance? A moment of your time? I promise I won’t take much of it.”
I didn’t turn, not like i wanted to anyway.
I already recognized the slight tremor in the man’s voice.
It was the distinct, shaky sound of a man who knew his empire was falling apart.
Arthur Sterling.
He was the Patriarch of a shipping dynasty that had ruled the city’s docks for three generations.
But today, his family name was just a stack of red numbers on a bankruptcy filing sitting on my office desk.
“You have two minutes, Arthur,” I said, not bothering to look at him.
My voice came out flat, the kind that make grown men adjust their tie in discomfort.
“And if you bring up the interest rates on that bridge loan again, I’m cutting it down to one.”
“It’s… it’s not a loan I’m seeking this time, Evelyn,” he stammered, taking a cautious step closer.
The sharp, heavy scent of his expensive cologne couldn’t quite mask the sour smell of his panic.
“It’s a partnership. A merger of interests. My son, Julian, has been working on a proposal for the northern docks—”
I stopped listening.
He threw out empty buzzwords like synergy and legacy preservation, the kind of corporate language people use when they’re desperate.
I tuned his voice out, letting my gaze drift back over the ballroom to scan the glittering crowd below.
I was looking for anything to distract me, but these rooms rarely offered anything beyond predictable greed.
To pass the time, I decided to indulge myself in one of those vain things the millennial’s do to pass time; dissecting the flaws of their peers.
My eyes stopped on Director Hwang, who was standing by the champagne fountain.
He had his usual smug sneer, surrounded by a group of men who laughed at his every word.
Hwang was famously old-fashioned; he publicly believed women were meant to be silent, decorative partners in business, no matter how much power they actually held.
It was a stupid, fragile belief.
Men like him were too easy to manipulate because their egos were so thin.
I know the exact calls to make that could ruin his automobile empire before the markets opened tomorrow morning.
But he wasn’t worth the time.
I let my gaze slide past him, sweeping over the faces of corporate raiders, old-money socialites, and desperate politicians.
Everyone was trying so hard to look powerful.
But it was all a façade to cover up their hidden debts, the failing marriages, and the desperate compromised they had to make just to stay in this room.
Across the floor, Senator Samantha was shaking hands, her smile wide and aggressively friendly.
She laughed a little too loudly at someone’s mediocre joke, nodding along with practiced warmth.
I knew that smile.
I’d paid for it.
I had funded her entire campaign last year, putting millions behind her name—not because I cared about her politics, but because watching her win had ruined the careers of three arrogant men who thought they owned the senate.
But watching her play the room now, she just looked like another puppet.
More elegant than Hwang, perhaps, but just as hungry for approval.
The exhaustion of watching them was starting to feel heavy.
I was just about to make an excuse, leave Arthur to drown in his own financial ruin, and head for my car.
But then, my eyes landed on her.
She stood perfectly still, like a statue carved from the finest marble.
She was exquisite; pale skin, dark hair pinned up with a web of pearls, and a floor-length emerald gown that shimmered every time she shifted under the chandeliers.
Even from across the room, something about her felt…
off.
My boredom, for the first time all night, shattered.
But It wasn’t just her beauty that caught my attention.
It was her eyes.
They were wide and beautiful, but completely empty, as if she had retreated so deep inside herself that there was no one left behind the shell.
Clara Sterling.
Julian’s trophy wife.
The gossip had been everywhere: the Sterlings had plucked her from some middle-class university, a girl with a scholarship and big dreams, and turned her into a socialite.
Or, more accurately, a prisoner.
I watched as Julian Sterling stepped up to her.
He was handsome in the way a poisonous snake is colorful.
He didn’t offer her a drink or a smile.
Instead, he reached out and grabbed her upper arm, his fingers digging into the delicate sleeve of her gown.
It was a practiced, subtle movement, meant to look like he was simply guiding her toward a group of men and women.
But I saw the truth.
I saw the way her entire body tightened, a microscopic shudder rippling through her frame before she forced her shoulders to settle.
As the light shifted, the hem of her sleeve rode up just an inch.
There, against the milky white of her skin, was a dark, purplish shadow.
It was the distinct, unmistakable shape of a thumbprint, a bruise left by her supposed husband who was smiling happily with other gala attendees.
A hot, sharp spark of rage flickered in my stomach.
But make no mistake, I wasn’t a hero.
I had stepped over plenty of people to reach the top and I had a reputation for being heartless.
But looking at her, I felt a visceral, ugly anger I hadn’t felt in years.
“Arthur,” I interrupted, my voice cutting cleanly through his rambling.
I finally turned to face him.
The old man actually took a half-step back, startled by the sudden, sharp focus in my eyes.
“Yes, Evelyn? Do you… do you find the proposal for the docks interesting?”
“Forget the shipping docks. Forget the proposal,” I said, leaning in slightly.
Over Arthur’s shoulder, I saw Julian squeeze Clara’s arm again, his mouth pressed close to her ear as he hissed something that made her face go entirely pale.
My jaw tightened, as a new wave of anger washed over me.
“I’ll bail out your company,” I said, my voice dead calm.
“I’ll wipe every single cent of the Sterling debt to absolute zero. I’ll even inject enough capital to put your family back at the top of the market before the end of the year.”
Arthur’s eyes bulged.
He looked like he was about to collapse onto the terrace floor from sheer shock.
“And… what is the catch? You want a majority share? A permanent seat on the board?”
I set my glass of Macallan down on the stone railing with a soft, deliberate clink.
“I don’t want your company, Arthur. I want her.”
I pointed a steady, diamond-clad finger toward the ballroom, directly at the girl in the emerald dress.
Arthur blinked, looking from me to Clara, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“Clara? But she… she’s Julian’s—”
“I want your daughter-in-law,” I cut him off, my tone leaving no room for negotiation.
“For one year. A personal assistant contract. She will live at my estate, work under my direct supervision, and your son is strictly forbidden from contacting her. If a single Sterling hand touches her in the next twelve months, the deal is off, and I will sue what is left of your family into the dirt. Do we have a deal?”
The silence that followed was so thick it could be cut with a butter knife
Welcome to “Sold to the ice Queen – Her 30 billion dollar freedom”, I am so happy to share Evelyn’s and Clara’s story with you.
This is a story about power, the price of freedom and finding love in the most unexpected places.
If you love cold billionaire tropes, high-stakes drama, and a slow-burn romance that defies the odds, you’ve come to the right place.
I will be updating daily, so please make sure to add this book to your library so you don’t miss any chapters!
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Thank you for reading.
let’s see if Clara can truly melt the Ice Queen’s heart
Happy reading!