Ideal Men 1: Russo Mancini (On Hold)

22

Icy woke up, her eyes adjusting to the familiar surroundings of her childhood bedroom. As she took in the sight of the mirrors, paintings, cabinets, and the bed that had been fixtures of her teenage years, a flood of memories washed over her. Despite the passing decades, the room remained frozen in time, a silent witness to the joys and sorrows of her youth.

Feeling a sense of urgency, Icy rushed to the small cabinet tucked away in the corner of the room. The bedroom was exactly the same it means no one touched her belongings. With sweaty hands, she opened box beneath the cabinet, revealing a treasure trove of keepsakes and mementos. Among them, a weathered photograph caught her eye.

Gently lifting the picture from its hiding place, Icy felt a wave of emotion wash over her as she studied the image. It depicted a scene from long ago, a snapshot of a simpler time when laughter echoed through the halls of their family home.

In the photograph, they stood together in a sun-drenched field, surrounded by golden wheat and swaying grass. Icy could almost feel the warmth of the sun on her skin as she recalled the carefree days spent playing with her siblings, Vandal and Klein. In the background, their parents, XanYing and Florence, smiled proudly, their love and devotion evident in every line of their faces.

She traced the outline of each familiar face with her finger, tears began to trickle down her cheeks. The photograph was a bittersweet reminder of a time when the world seemed full of infinite possibilities, before tragedy had torn their family apart. That's when Hassan Al Nayani came into the picture.

Lost in her memories, Icy was startled by a sudden knock at the door. Hastily wiping away her tears, she quickly concealed the photograph and composed herself.

As the door creaked open, Icy lay back on the bed, her heart heavy with the weight of untold secrets and unresolved emotions. With practiced ease, she closed her eyes and feigned sleep, hoping to shield herself from the pain that threatened to consume her once more.

"Princess, won't you give your father a kiss on the cheek?"

Hassan's voice cut through the silence, causing Icy to stiffen at the sound. Even in her prone position on the bed, his approach was palpable, sending a shiver down her spine.

As Hassan drew nearer, Icy's muscles tensed involuntarily, her breath catching in her throat. His presence alone was suffocating, filling the room with an oppressive aura that made it hard to think, let alone move.

Feeling the weight of his presence settle beside her, Icy resisted the urge to flinch as Hassan seated himself on the edge of her bed. Though no words were spoken, his silent vigilance weighed heavily upon her, his eyes fixed upon her as she feigned sleep.

"I know you hate me," he spoke softly, his calm tone contrasting sharply with the turmoil raging within Icy.

Maingat na iminulat ni Icy ang kaniyang mga mata. Pinagmasdan niya si Hassan na nakatingin sa malayo tila may malalim na iniisip.

"Heiyan is already married," Hassan's words pierced the air, jolting Icy from her facade of slumber. Instantly, she sat up, a flicker of hope igniting within her as she dared to believe that her father might yet change for the better.

"So, you're going to marry me off to someone else?" Icy's voice trembled with a mixture of fear and anticipation, her heart hanging on his next words.

Hassan turned to face her, his inscrutable gaze sending shivers down Icy's spine. His ability to conceal his true emotions was as formidable as ever, leaving her unable to discern his intentions.