Spoiled by My Ice Billionaire

[Powerful CEO + Stunning Heroine + Flash Marriage + Marriage Before Love + Extra Sweet Romance]

Isabella is a secretly renowned fashion designer, yet her life is falling apart. Her boyfriend cheated on her, her best friend betrayed her and stole her career opportunity, and her boss crossed the line.

Chapter 1 Her Boss

Isabelle Foster woke up in a bed she didn't recognize.
She looked around groggily at the unfamiliar room and tried to piece together what had happened. Yesterday was the department dinner, and she'd accidentally had way too much to drink.

After that…
Her mind suddenly snapped into sharp focus as the memory hit her. His deep groans still echoed in her ears like they were haunting her.
She cut off that train of thought right there and just wanted to get the hell out of this mess.
She picked up her torn white shirt from the floor, but there was no way she could wear it out like this. Her hands shook as she tossed the ruined fabric aside, and then she spotted a clean outfit laid out on the bed. He'd obviously left it there for her—a professional skirt suit.
She threw it on as fast as she could. The clothes weren't her usual style, so he'd probably just grabbed something random to deal with the situation.
When she checked herself in the mirror, she noticed her neck was completely clear, but everything below her collarbone was covered in marks.

Ha! Am I supposed to thank him for being a gentleman or something? Like he was so worried about people knowing he'd slept with someone!
Isabelle sighed and walked out of the bathroom, taking in her surroundings.
This was a massive suite, but it felt completely lifeless, like no one actually lived here. It didn't quite feel like a hotel, but it also kind of did.
She grabbed her purse from the nightstand and headed for the door.
Turns out it definitely wasn't a hotel.
When she opened the bedroom door, a huge living room stretched out in front of her, and a familiar figure immediately caught her eye.
He was sitting on the couch wearing headphones, with a pillow balanced on his lap and a laptop resting on top of it. He was wearing black loungewear and looked totally relaxed and casual.
When he heard the bedroom door open, he looked up with those intense eyes of his.
The man sitting there was her boss, Damian Cross.
Wasn't he supposed to be this legendary CEO who never got involved with anyone?
Based on last night's performance, he definitely wasn't holding anything back. He'd acted more like a starving wolf who'd been locked up for decades.
She stood there completely stunned and was about to say something when Damian spoke first.
"I'm in a meeting." His voice came out low and rough.
Isabelle shut her mouth immediately because she knew exactly what he meant.
"Come here and eat breakfast." He leaned forward slightly and used his fingers to push a glass of milk across the coffee table, sliding it in front of another plate of food.
But he didn't notice that when he leaned forward, the hickeys all over his neck pressed right up against the camera, and every single executive in that meeting got a crystal-clear view.
Isabelle's face turned bright red with embarrassment. Those were probably hers—she hadn't realized her, uh, suction skills were that intense.
She really wished this was just some hotel room where she could walk out the door and go straight home.
She sat down with shaky hands and kept her eyes wandering everywhere except at him. All she could do was obediently sip her milk and eat the sandwich that looked exactly like his.
Damian had a reputation for being cold—cold personality, cold temper, just cold in every possible way. So yeah, Isabelle had basically messed with the wrong guy. She must've gotten in the wrong car last night.
But even if I got in the wrong car, why wouldn't this ice-cold boss realize I was the wrong person? He'd just slept with an employee. Didn't he care about his reputation at all?
Fifteen minutes later, he wrapped up the meeting and closed his laptop. Then he finally started eating his breakfast at this leisurely pace.
"Sorry, I didn't know it was your first time. I was a little rough." His tone stayed just as cold as it had been during the meeting, and his face showed absolutely zero expression while he said it.
Isabelle had just gotten her emotions under control, but now her face flushed red all over again.
What happened happened. Could you please just stop bringing it up?
"The family doctor will be here soon. Wait until after you see him before you go." His voice was completely matter-of-fact.
Please, is he worried I'll get pregnant with his kid and try to claim his fortune or something?
Isabelle finished the milk and picked up the glass of water next to her. She drank it slowly, one sip at a time, because she had no idea what to say to him.
He ate really fast and finished everything in no time.
"Just wait here. I still have to go into the office today, so I'll have my assistant drive you home."
Isabelle quickly tried to stop him. "Mr. Cross, I can get home by myself. It's no trouble at all."
"Are you saying I didn't perform well enough last night?" He looked up slightly, and something in his expression almost seemed hurt.
"What?" For some reason, Isabelle's heart started pounding like crazy.

How could I possibly dare say that? She was completely speechless and had no idea how to argue with what he'd just said. This was the first time in her life someone had verbally steamrolled her like this.
If he wasn't her boss, she would've already lost her temper and told him off.
"Mr. Cross, Dr. Morgan is here." An older maid appeared nearby.
He didn't say anything. He just kept watching Isabelle quietly.
Isabelle was gorgeous—smooth, sun-kissed skin and beautiful golden hair. She was mixed race, and absolutely stunning.
Her body was incredible too, the kind that made other guys jealous of whoever was dating her.
All the staring made her uncomfortable, and her cheeks were already red before her whole body started heating up.
"Come with me." Damian's voice cut through the tension, and he let out this barely audible sigh through his nose.
Isabelle obediently followed him because what else was she going to do? She'd somehow managed to piss off one of the biggest names in fashion.
When they got back to the bedroom where they'd gone at it all night, her heart started pounding and her palms got sweaty just looking at that bed.
At least the maids had already cleaned everything up and made it spotless.
A female doctor walked in, and then Damian walked out and closed the door behind him.
Isabelle thought maybe she was getting the morning-after pill or a shot or something, but no. The doctor was there to examine her down there and apply medication.
It was absolutely mortifying having someone else inspect last night's damage like that.
Though she had to admit, the ointment really did help with the soreness.
She kept her hands covering her face the whole time because she wanted to die of embarrassment.
When she finally came out, Damian was already gone.
The only person waiting for her was Brian Hughes, Damian's assistant.
Brian was her age—they were both 22—and they'd graduated from the same university, interviewed at the same time, and started working on the same day. The only difference was their positions.
He was Damian's only assistant and pretty much his right-hand man.
Isabelle stood next to the car and looked at Brian sitting in the driver's seat with that stupid grin on his face, and she felt like her dignity was scattered all over the ground with no way to pick it up.
She got in the car and stared out the window, mumbling, "I got in the wrong car last night, didn't I?"
"Yep, future Mrs. Cross." Brian was clearly enjoying himself, and then he launched into this dramatic play-by-play.
"I've known you for a while now, and I've never seen you drink that much. You got in the wrong car, stumbled in, threw your arms around Mr. Cross, called him Baymax, and then just went to town kissing him. It was aggressive!"

"Last night, Mr. Cross had been drinking a little too, but he didn't even dare move. You know he's got that whole germaphobe thing going on, right? Well, you ripped his shirt. Buttons went flying everywhere."

She hung her head and tried not to picture it too vividly.

Brian added, "We were gonna take you home, but since you live alone, Mr. Cross was worried you'd be a mess by yourself, so he brought you to his place instead."

"Ha." She forced out a laugh.

"So, you and Mr. Cross..." Brian looked her up and down.

She had to hand it to Damian—he'd been smart about it. There wasn't a single mark on her neck.

"Exactly what you're thinking." She pointed at her unmarked neck.

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Guess Mr. Cross was being a gentleman after all."

"Sure was." She drew out the words sarcastically. A gentleman. More like a fake gentleman.

Chapter 2 A Pretty Good Mood

The first day back after the holiday, everyone at work was taking it easy, and a lot of people were still on vacation.
The company still had plenty of people stuck at work though, and Isabelle was one of them.
She didn't let Brian drop her off right in front of the building, because if anyone saw her getting out of Damian's car, she'd never be able to explain that away.
She got out a few blocks from the office and then quietly ducked into a pharmacy to buy Plan B.
She wasn't sure if he'd used protection last night, but she figured she might as well take it just to be safe.
That was when her phone started ringing.
It was her boyfriend, Gary Peterson.
"Hmph!" Isabelle looked at that disgusting name on her screen and her lips curved into this bitter, sarcastic smile.
Gary and Isabelle had been together for five years, ever since college.
She'd been this genius student who skipped a bunch of grades, and that's how she ended up meeting Gary, who was three years older than her.
Two years ago, Isabelle moved abroad with her mom to study, so they'd been doing the long-distance thing, but Gary couldn't handle being alone and ended up hooking up with one of her best friends back home.
Isabelle knew all about it, but she hadn't confronted them yet because she didn't want to waste her energy on some small-time drama. She was planning something bigger, something that would really hit them where it hurt.
She declined the call, and just as she was about to lock her phone, she saw a new message pop up on WhatsApp.
It was from Damian.
She froze and just stared at it for several seconds, thinking she must be seeing things.
Why is he messaging me on WhatsApp? Is he reaching out as the boss, or is it about our hookup from last night?
She clenched her jaw and ignored it.
She was a fashion designer and had only been working at Cross Boutique for a year, so aside from her direct supervisor, she'd barely communicated with any of the higher-ups.
Cross Boutique was the biggest fashion company in Aldoria, and they even sold internationally, so someone like Damian—this total big shot—wasn't someone she'd ever normally run into.
Last night had been a fluke because he'd shown up at the Independence Day fashion show after they broke all their previous records.
Just then, her phone buzzed with a message from the design department, "Meeting in the conference room in ten minutes."
"Shit!" Isabelle took off running toward the office.

Inside the Cross Group building, she ran into her best friend in the elevator.
"Isabelle, you hate wearing business clothes! Why'd you put on a suit and skirt today?"
Eleanor Price, who was also a designer, looked her up and down.
Yeah, Isabelle really didn't like professional attire.
She tried to play it cool and tugged at her outfit.
"I wanted to show off my 'outstanding' work performance, so I figured I should put my best assets on display," she said.
"Ha!" Eleanor glanced at her chest and then smacked her hand on the ass. "Whatever man ends up marrying you is gonna be the luckiest guy alive!"
Ow! Jesus, girl! Isabelle bit down hard but didn't make a sound.
Just as the elevator doors were closing, a hand shot through the gap and stopped them.
Brian stepped aside, and then Damian walked in wearing this completely black suit that made him look intimidating as hell.
Isabelle and Eleanor both shifted to the side to make room.
Isabelle swallowed hard because Damian was now standing right next to her, and Eleanor was in front of her.
She didn't dare look at him, and she couldn't tell if it was because the elevator was so cramped or if it was the sheer pressure of his presence, but she felt like she couldn't breathe.
Heat crept from her ears all the way to her cheeks.
They were standing so close, but it would've been weird to try and put more distance between them now.
She could faintly smell that sandalwood scent coming off him—the same one from last night. God, it smelled good...
She bit her lip and tried to calm herself down and stop thinking about what happened last night.
Finally, the elevator stopped on the 28th floor where the design department was, and they practically ran out.
"That scared the hell out of me!" Eleanor clutched her chest and whispered.
"After the dinner last night, I saw some woman in Mr. Cross' car! Oh my god, you have no idea. She had her arms around his neck and was just kissing him, and he didn't even try to stop her! You think Mr. Cross finally got some action? Like, broke his whole celibate CEO thing?"
Isabelle's face went bright red because normally she lived for this kind of gossip, but now that she was actually part of it, she couldn't say a single word. "Yeah?"
"I texted Brian after to ask him about it, but his lips are sealed tight. He didn't say a damn thing." Eleanor clipped on her badge and straightened out her notebook.
Ten minutes later, everyone gathered in the conference room.
Not many people showed up because a lot of them were on vacation, and the meeting was mainly just to wrap up the recent campaign.
First up was Harrison Osman, the design department's heartthrob and director. He felt super confident about how the campaign had gone, and everyone kept saying he'd definitely get the biggest bonus this year.
For some reason though, Isabelle got the feeling he wasn't really interested in the actual summary. It felt more like he just wanted everyone to stroke his ego.
Eventually, he turned his attention to Isabelle.
"We really need to thank Ms. Foster here. Her designs were used more than anyone else's this year, and her pieces sold better than anything else we put out…"
Isabelle pressed her lips together in a polite smile. She'd heard this same speech about ten times last night and really didn't want to sit through it again.
Harrison was talented; she couldn't deny that, and his outgoing personality with that hint of recklessness made him good at his job.
A lot of people enjoyed working with him.
But Isabelle didn't like him because he was always dropping hints that he was into her, like he wanted her to fall at his feet.
The meeting wrapped up pretty quickly, and Brian knocked on the conference room door right as they finished.
"Ms. Foster, Mr. Cross wants to see you in his office." Brian's expression gave nothing away.
The entire room went dead silent. Isabelle had been half-asleep in her chair, but now she could feel a dozen pairs of eyes boring into her.
The CEO's office was on the 30th floor, and almost nobody ever went up there. They usually held meetings on the 29th floor instead, which meant the 30th floor was basically this mysterious, forbidden place.
People called it Hell.
The last director who'd gone to the CEO's office had walked out with a dislocated shoulder, and Damian's assistant before that had gotten his left leg broken and had to be carried out on a stretcher.
That was why Brian got promoted so young. Nobody else wanted the job.
"Mr. Hughes, do you know what this is about?" Harrison actually looked concerned for once.
Everyone's eyes immediately shifted to Brian.
They all knew he probably wouldn't say anything, but they were still hoping to read something in his expression.
"No idea." Brian's mouth was locked tighter than a vault, and there was no getting anything out of him.
"Got it." Isabelle's face had been bright red all morning and just wouldn't go back to normal, and her head was completely filled with images of him acting like some kind of wild animal last night.
"Ms. Foster, you don't look so good. You've been red all morning. Do you want to take a sick day and rest up?" Harrison showed the same concern for all his subordinates, so nobody thought much of it.
"Nah, I'll just go see what he wants and come right back. But hey, if I don't make it back, you guys can split up all the sketches in my office as my inheritance," Isabelle said.
She sighed and gathered up her meeting notes before heading out.

She followed Brian into the elevator, and the 30th floor required either facial recognition or a keycard to access, so regular employees couldn't just go up there whenever they wanted.
Brian scanned his face and the elevator started its slow climb upward.
"Nobody's here now, so can you tell me what he wants?" Isabelle still didn't get it.
"He didn't really say, but he seemed like he was in a pretty good mood," Brian said.
Of course he was in a good mood. Who knew how many times he'd gotten his rocks off last night?

Chapter 3 Want to Try Being My Wife

Three soft knocks echoed against the door.

"Come in."

Isabelle's stomach twisted as she reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

Damian was working at his computer, but he looked different from this morning. He'd taken off his suit jacket and was wearing a black dress shirt with two buttons undone at the top, and his tie was tossed to the side.

She could just barely make out the hickey she'd left on his neck last night...

He sat in his office chair at an angle, and the whole vibe he gave off was lazy and careless, like he was only pretending to be a gentleman.

She walked in slowly, and Brian casually closed the door behind her.

The sound was barely audible, but to Isabelle, it felt deafening.

"Mr. Cross, you wanted to see me?" Isabelle said.

"Mm-hmm." Damian glanced at her standing by the door, then his eyes went back to the computer screen.

That was it. Everything fell silent. Just one minute, but it felt like hours.

Then he stood up and walked toward her.

She had to admit. He was every girl's dream boyfriend brought to life.

He was ridiculously good-looking—all sharp angles and strong features, with intense eyes and that perfect jawline. Even Isabelle couldn't help staring a little longer than she should.

Standing next to him, the top of her head barely reached his chin.

His body was incredible—Isabelle couldn't deny that, because last night in the bathroom, her wandering hands had spent most of their time on his perfectly defined abs...

God, why am I thinking about last night's embarrassing activities again?

"Mr. Cross, did you need something?" Isabelle asked again.

She kept her expression calm and her words clear, showing impressive self-control, but inside her thoughts were complete chaos.

"Sit." He turned and settled onto the couch.

Isabelle walked over and sat down about six feet away from him.

"Come closer." He patted the spot right next to him.

Isabelle hesitated for two seconds, then got up and moved over.

Damian stared at her and seemed to zone out completely.

Isabelle nervously twisted her hands together.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked.

Isabelle froze for a second, then shook her head. Is he seriously trying to debrief what happened?

"What are you thinking?" Damian said.

Isabelle glanced at him and caught sight of his perfect collarbones and the faint love bites still visible on his neck...

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cross. I had way too much to drink last night, and I honestly didn't know I'd do something so crazy to you..."

"Don't apologize." He sat up straight, cutting her off mid-sentence, then leaned back against the couch and looked at her perfect profile.

"Last night was my choice," he said casually. "Yeah, you were drunk and you kissed me, but everything after that was all me."

"Please stop talking—" She already felt humiliated enough without having to relive it face-to-face.

"We're both adults here. What happened happened, so let's just pretend it never did." Her face looked like someone had painted it bright red.

"What am I, your boy toy?"

Damian's cold expression made it look like he was about to interrogate Isabelle or something.

"You've got the wrong idea," Isabelle said, and her ears turned bright red.

What is he trying to do here? Is he trying to start some kind of inappropriate relationship with me? But he seemed like such a gentleman this morning, so that doesn't make sense!

"Would you consider becoming my wife?"

"What?" Isabelle couldn't believe what she was hearing.

They locked eyes, and their gazes held for a long moment.

She couldn't read what he was thinking.

He continued, "We didn't use protection last night, so if there's a baby, we'll have it. And even if there isn't, I'll take responsibility for you."

He said it so casually, like he was telling some story that didn't really matter to him.

Isabelle stayed quiet, and she'd never felt more clearheaded than she did right now.

Damian came from this super cultured, distinguished family, and his upbringing was absolutely impeccable. He was probably pretty conservative too. Otherwise, he wouldn't still be single at 28 without ever getting married.

Now that they'd slept together, he probably couldn't get past his own moral standards about it.

But Isabelle knew she couldn't reach that high, because she knew exactly where she came from.

She was the illegitimate daughter of her mother and some businessman. She didn't even know who her father was. She'd dealt with gossip and whispers her whole life, and if she got involved with someone as pristine as Damian, she'd just drag him down.

Plus, after everything Gary had put her through, she couldn't just jump into something new with someone else.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cross, but I didn't mean anything like that. I already took the pill this morning, so you don't need to worry about it. I don't want to be Mrs. Cross or anything. Since you feel like you wronged me last night, and I'm the person it happened to and I'm not making an issue of it, let's just say we're done here. Let's not bring this up again."

Damian's eyes darkened behind his rimless glasses, and they looked completely bottomless.

Isabelle got through that whole speech in one breath, and then she turned to walk out of the CEO's office.

"Wait." He slowly stood up, and for just a moment, her words had actually stunned him.

He was one of Aldoria's most powerful business magnates, and countless women tried to get close to him, but this was the first time he'd ever seen a woman actually turn him down.

Isabelle took a deep breath, turned around, and looked at him.

"Is there something else, Mr. Cross?"

"Add me on WhatsApp."

His expression stayed calm, and he held out his phone to show his ID.

Damian continued, "Next month there's a fashion week happening in Solvenia, and the company's planning to send you and Mr. Osman. If you don't want to go, just pretend I didn't say anything."

"Also," he added, "you don't need to answer that other question right away. I'll give you time to think about it."

Ugh! Typical businessman! Just a few words and he'd already pushed Isabelle exactly where he wanted her to go.

Not everyone got to attend Solvenia's fashion week, and she couldn't pass up an opportunity like that.

Besides, it wasn't like she was losing anything.

She pulled out her phone and added him on WhatsApp.

As for that other question, she'd just ignore it.

---

When she got back to her desk, Eleanor immediately came over looking for gossip. "So? Is the CEO's office totally incredible?"

Honestly, she barely looked at anything because Damian's rapid-fire questions kept pulling her along the whole time.

"It's one of those things you just have to experience yourself," Isabelle said, pressing her lips together and giving her a playful wink.

"Next time I'll put in a request so you can go see it in person."

"Girl, I was so scared. I thought they were gonna carry you out on a stretcher," Eleanor said while checking data on her computer and glancing over at Isabelle.

"Ms. Foster!" Harrison came jogging over, practically bouncing with excitement.

Everyone turned to look at him, and his over-the-top happy expression caught the attention of the entire department.

"Mr. Osman," Isabelle responded quickly, getting to her feet.

Last night, when Damian had grabbed her chin and looked down at her, demanding to know if she liked it, she'd developed a fear of that whole power-trip thing.

"They just sent down a memo from upstairs. You and I both made the list for Solvenia Fashion Week!" Harrison smiled.

"I know," Isabelle said, not sounding surprised at all.

The company was full of people who'd been there way longer than her, and for someone who'd only been working there a year, this was going to paint a huge target on her back.

Damian was probably only giving her this spot to make up for what happened last night anyway.

As soon as the news got out, the whole department exploded. Some people were thrilled and others were pissed, but the younger employees who'd just started felt even more motivated now.

The veterans at the company thought it was totally unfair though. They'd been working there forever and some of them hadn't even gotten to go to the city's fashion week, let alone an international one.

Isabelle didn't care. She just kept her head down and did her work.

A message from Gary popped up on her screen, "Isabelle, you free tonight? Wanna catch a movie?"

Isabelle pressed her lips together. Shameless people really were unbeatable. He was sweet-talking the side piece while putting the actual girlfriend on a pedestal.

She replied, "Sure!"

She took a screenshot and posted it to Instagram, setting it so only her best friend, Nicole Gale, could see it, and added the caption, "Five years strong."

Nicole couldn't help herself and immediately sent a message, "Babe, my friend and I are going to see a movie tonight too. Which one are you guys seeing? What time?"

She was so dedicated to this whole thing that Isabelle almost felt bad for not giving her an award.

Isabelle didn't respond. She just locked her phone screen, and as she looked up, she chanced to glance downstairs—Gary was already standing outside the company's main entrance, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.