The Ice Queen's Secret Superstar Husband

The heavy metal door of the luxury RV slammed shut, cutting off the blinding California sun and the chaotic screaming of the film set.

Katy Riddle let out a ragged breath. She dropped her weight onto the white leather sofa. Her muscles ached.

She reached up and ripped the heavy hair extensions from her scalp. She threw the fake hair onto the glass coffee table. Her scalp burned from the pulling, but the physical pain was a relief.

The RV door clicked open. Paige, her new assistant, walked in. She was hugging a massive stack of scheduling folders to her chest.

Paige's high heel caught the edge of the thick wool rug. Her body pitched forward.

She let out a sharp gasp. The folders slipped from her grip. White papers exploded across the RV, fluttering down like snow.

Katy's jaw tightened. She stared at the mess, her eyes turning cold. The silence in the small space felt heavy.

"I am so, so sorry, Miss Riddle," Paige stuttered.

She dropped to her knees. Sweat beaded on her forehead as her hands scrambled over the rug, grabbing at the scattered papers.

In her blind panic, Paige's elbow swung out. It slammed hard into the side of Katy's limited-edition Birkin bag resting on the edge of the coffee table.

The bag tipped over. It hit the floor with a heavy thud. The metal clasp popped open.

The contents spilled out across the rug.

A small, worn leather notebook tumbled out. It hit the floor and splayed open. Tucked securely into the back pocket of the binding, a glossy, high-definition polaroid slipped halfway out. It was a candid, close-up shot of Oscar-winning actor Arther Knowles, his intense eyes staring straight into the camera, a picture she had carried for years.

Paige's hand froze mid-air. Her eyes locked onto the polaroid. Her mouth fell open. She sucked in a sharp breath. The image completely destroyed the ice-cold, untouchable persona Katy maintained.

Katy followed Paige's gaze.

Her stomach dropped to the floor. Her heart slammed against her ribs, missing a beat. Hot blood rushed up her neck and burned her cheeks.

She moved faster than her exhausted body should have allowed. She launched herself off the sofa, diving toward the rug like a predator protecting a kill.

Katy grabbed the book. Her fingers dug into the edge of Arther's printed face. She shoved the polaroid deep into the pages and slammed the cover shut, desperate to erase it from Paige's sight.

Paige slowly looked up. Her eyes were wide with pure shock and confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Katy sucked in a harsh breath. She forced her facial muscles to freeze. She built the ice-cold mask back over her features and stared down at the trembling assistant.

She shoved the leather book deep into the Birkin bag. She ripped the zipper shut. Her movements were sharp and violent, pretending the last ten seconds never happened.

Katy stood up. She