Surviving The Ice Prince's Love Algorithm
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Autumn woke up with a brutal headache and a glowing red warning projected onto her retinas.
She had been bound to a ruthless system as the "Elite Girlfriend" to Harrison Jennings, the wealthiest, most robotic student on campus.
But her status was a death sentence: Cannon Fodder scheduled for deletion.
To survive, she had to flawlessly execute a grueling daily schedule of academic perfection and emotional detachment. If she broke character, showed weakness, or failed her study quotas, the system electrocuted her mind.
She was trapped in a digital nightmare, bullied by her roommate and forced to endure Harrison's suffocating scrutiny. He didn't date her; he optimized her like faulty software, even throwing $50,000 at her just to stop her from working a "dirty" part-time job because it violated his strict mysophobic parameters.
Pushed to the brink of a breakdown, Autumn was exhausted and terrified. Why was she forced to appease a high-functioning sociopath who measured human connection in data points and efficiency metrics?
Until one afternoon, desperate to scare off a creeping frat boy, she loudly faked a deranged, obsessive love for Harrison's flawless logic.
She turned around to find Harrison standing right behind her.
His usually dead, icy eyes were suddenly burning with a dark, suppressed intensity.
"The statement you just made," he rasped, towering over her. "Does it hold legal validity?"
Surviving The Ice Prince's Love Algorithm Chapter 1
Autumn's eyes snapped open.
Harsh morning sunlight sliced through the narrow gap in the blinds, stabbing directly into her pupils. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She lay flat on a narrow, unfamiliar twin bed, her fingers gripping the cheap cotton sheets.
Before she could even push herself up, a sharp spike of electricity drilled into her temples.
She let out a choked gasp, her hands flying to the sides of her head. The pain was blinding, a physical pressure threatening to crack her skull open.
"Welcome to the simulation," a voice echoed.
It didn't come from the room. The metallic, freezing tone vibrated directly inside her cranial cavity.
Autumn squeezed her eyes shut, convinced her brain was misfiring. "Who is that?" she rasped out loud, her throat dry and scratching. She frantically scanned the small dorm room for hidden cameras or speakers.
A string of glowing red text projected itself directly onto her retinas.
System ACE activated. Host bound. Current Identity: Elite Girlfriend (Provisional) to Harrison Jennings. Status: Cannon Fodder scheduled for deletion.
Autumn stared at the floating red letters. The words 'cannon fodder' and 'deletion' registered in her panicked mind, but strangely, a wave of heavy exhaustion washed over her. If she was just a temporary data point meant to be discarded, why fight it? She let her head drop back onto the thin pillow.
"Great," she muttered to the empty room. "Delete me. I'm going back to sleep."
The second the words left her mouth, a jolt of raw voltage ripped through her right arm.
Her bicep spasmed violently. Her elbow jerked, smacking hard against the wooden bedframe. Autumn cried out, rolling onto her side, clutching her twitching arm. The smell of ozone seemed to burn in her nostrils.
Negative intent detected, the mechanical voice droned in her head. Failure to perfectly execute the pre-set elite academic storyline will result in permanent consciousness formatting. You will cease to exist.
The sheer, brutal reality of the pain extinguished any desire to rebel. The threat wasn't a game. It was a loaded gun pressed to her temple.
Autumn ground her teeth together, tasting copper. "Fine," she forced out, her chest heaving. "What do I have to do?"
The red text on her retinas flickered and refreshed.
First interaction with target Harrison Jennings in 45 minutes. Location: Campus Library. Objective: Maintain elite parameters.
Panic, cold and sharp, replaced the pain. Forty-five minutes.
Autumn scrambled off the bed. Her bare feet hit the freezing linoleum floor. She stumbled toward the narrow closet in the corner and yanked the door open.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
The closet was a graveyard of monochrome. Stiff, tailored blazers in black, charcoal, and slate gray hung in perfect, suffocating lines. Crisp white button-down shirts, pressed so sharply the collars looked like weapons, filled the rest of the space. There wasn't a single oversized hoodie or pair of sweatpants in sight.
Her chest tightened. She grabbed the least restrictive-looking gray suit and practically tore off her sleepwear to put it on. The fabric was unforgiving, pulling tight across her shoulders and forcing her spine into a rigid line.
She stepped in front of the full-length mirror attached to the door.
She tried to curve her lips into a confident, aloof smile. The reflection staring back looked like a hostage trying to appease a captor.
Facial management: Failed, ACE's voice mocked in her head. Adjust immediately.
Autumn rubbed her cheeks roughly, leaving red marks on her pale skin. She took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing the air deep into her lungs. She dropped the fake smile. She let her jaw set and hardened her gaze, staring blankly at her own reflection until her eyes looked dead and sharp.
Her phone buzzed on the cramped desk.
She snatched it up. The screen showed a single text message from a contact named Harrison Jennings.
Library. Study Room 4. 0900.
No greeting. No warmth. Just a string of data. Autumn stared at the screen, a chill crawling up her arms. It felt like receiving a command line from a machine.
She turned to the desk to grab a bag. Her eyes landed on the towering stacks of massive, hardcover textbooks. Advanced Jurisprudence. Macroeconomic Theory.
Pack core reference materials to maintain academic persona, ACE ordered.
Autumn grabbed the two thickest books she could reach and shoved them into a structured black leather tote bag. The sheer weight of the books nearly pulled her shoulder out of its socket when she hoisted the straps. She cursed under her breath, forcing her posture straight against the dragging weight.
The dorm room door clicked open.
A blonde girl walked in, her eyes immediately zeroing in on Autumn. Kira. The system fed the name and relationship dynamic directly into Autumn's brain.
Kira's gaze dragged up and down Autumn's gray suit, her lip curling into a sneer. "Off to throw yourself at the ice prince again?" Kira's voice dripped with venomous jealousy. "You know he doesn't actually have a pulse, right?"
Autumn's instinct was to agree, to drop the heavy bag and complain about the psychopath she was apparently dating.
A faint buzzing started in her temples. A warning from ACE.
Autumn tightened her grip on the tote bag straps. She leveled a cold, empty stare at Kira. She didn't say a word. She just lifted her chin, letting her silence convey absolute, untouchable arrogance.
She walked forward, her shoulder intentionally brushing hard against Kira's as she passed.
Kira stumbled back a step, her mouth snapping shut. The color drained from her face, leaving her pale and speechless.
Autumn didn't look back. She stepped out of the dorm building and into the biting chill of the early autumn wind.
The cold air slapped her face, tightening her skin. She pulled the thin blazer closer around her body. The campus was massive, a sprawling maze of gothic architecture and manicured lawns. The system projected a glowing blue line on the ground, guiding her steps.
She walked fast, the heavy books bruising her hip with every stride.
Five minutes remaining, the countdown flashed in her vision.
The massive, stone structure of the classical library loomed ahead. Autumn's breath came in short, white puffs. She climbed the wide stone steps, the countdown ticking down relentlessly in her head.
Three. Two. One.
Autumn pushed her weight against the heavy glass doors of the library, stepping into the silent, temperature-controlled air, walking straight toward her first executioner.
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Surviving The Ice Prince's Love Algorithm of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
8.6
In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.
7.8
Alexis signed the divorce papers, leaving her with no assets, no alimony, and just the clothes on her back.
To forget her abusive husband Carlos, she got drunk and bought a high-end gigolo for the night with her last 800 dollars.
But the man she slept with wasn't an escort. He was Jarrett Hughes, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And while she was gone, her ex-husband was busy destroying her entire life.
Carlos framed her with fake photos of her cheating to justify the penniless divorce.
Then came the real nightmare.
Carlos and her own aunt secretly drained her family's corporate accounts, driving her father to jump off a building.
At the hospital, her grieving mother blamed her for the tragedy, violently attacking her in the ER.
To top it off, her cousin Josie—who was secretly sleeping with Carlos—held her father's ashes hostage.
"Crawl on your knees and pick it up, or the ashes go in the river," Josie sneered, throwing cash into the freezing slush.
Stripped of her marriage, her father, and her dignity, Alexis sat bleeding in the snow.
She couldn't understand why the people she loved most had coordinated such a brutal slaughter against her.
But Carlos and Josie made one fatal mistake.
They didn't know the "gigolo" Alexis had accidentally bought was the most powerful man in New York.
Alexis looked at the towering billionaire standing behind her, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.
"I need you to get my father's ashes back," she said, pulling him into a kiss right in front of her ex-husband. "I don't care what it takes."
7.6
When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle.
"Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered.
Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week.
They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust.
They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire.
Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog.
Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony.
They actually believed they had raised her.
She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face.
"I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation.
Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order.
"Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group."
It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.
8.7
For seven years, I was Alpha Zane’s Chosen Mate, suppressing my warrior instincts to be the docile, supportive partner he demanded.
On our seventh anniversary, while I waited by a candlelit table, I accidentally overheard his mind-link with another woman.
"Seven years is a habit, my dear, not love. She's docile, she'll understand."
He told Seraphina, his new political ally, laughing as he dismissed my entire existence.
I didn't scream or cry. I scraped the anniversary cake into the trash, drafted a formal rejection letter, and walked out of the packhouse.
But Zane didn't even notice my departure. He was so consumed by his new lover that my rejection letter was treated as garbage and tossed into the incinerator.
He paraded Seraphina around the pack, even handing my hard-earned strategic command over to her—a woman who knew absolutely nothing about war.
When my loyal subordinates protested, he violently suppressed them, declaring my absence a "childish tantrum" and framing me as the bitter obstacle to his destined romance.
He honestly thought I was just hiding in my room, waiting to beg for his charity and accept a humiliating demotion.
He had no idea that I had already crossed the border into enemy territory.
Tonight, I am attending his grand celebration.
Not as the heartbroken mate he discarded, but as the newly appointed Gamma of his deadliest rival, the Sterling Pack.
8.3
Angel was slammed onto the freezing stone slabs of the central square, surrounded by the deafening, mocking laughter of her clan.
Her own sister, Jasmine, stood over her with a look of pure malice, loudly and falsely accusing Angel of sneaking into the Chief's tent to seduce him.
Then, Al Stein, the man who had sworn to be her mate, stepped out of the crowd with a twisted face of disgust.
"You're a genetic reject. You can't give me children. You're useless."
He threw their bone mate ring hard at her face, cutting her cheek, as the crowd roared for her blood.
Without a trial, the High Oracle stripped her of her citizenship and sentenced her to eternal exile in the deadly wasteland.
To make her punishment a complete joke, the guards dragged out a comatose, dying outcast named Kain, slicing Angel's finger to force a mate bond between the two defects.
They were tossed out into the raging blizzard like discarded corpses, the heavy steel gates slamming shut behind them, cutting off all light and warmth.
Angel crawled through the snow, her vision blurring from extreme starvation and the biting wind, suffocating under the weight of their lies.
Why did her own blood frame her? Why did her mate throw her away to die in the ice?
Just as the freezing shadow of death wrapped around her, a sharp, mechanical voice exploded in her mind.
[Genetic Evolution Codex activated. Host Status: Legendary Kitsune Prime.]
The despair evaporated from her chest, replaced by a burning vow to survive and make every single one of them pay.
8.3
Half a month into our cold war, I, Claire Parker, found an abortion procedure slip tucked inside Daniel Carter's suit pocket.
The patient's name belonged to the fragile little childhood sweetheart he had always protected so fiercely-Sophie Bennett.
I folded the paper calmly and slipped it back where I had found it.
Daniel noticed the movement immediately. His eyes flicked toward me through the rearview mirror, resignation coloring his voice.
"What are you overthinking now? Sophie was just keeping a friend company at the hospital. She accidentally left it there."
I turned toward the window and said nothing.
This was Sophie declaring war on me, yet the man who could crush competitors without mercy in the business world believed her completely.
The silence inside the car grew suffocating until Daniel finally stopped outside an upscale jewelry boutique.
He reached over and ruffled my hair with easy familiarity, his tone indulgent and affectionate.
"Come on. Pick out a ring. Your birthday's next month anyway, so we might as well register our marriage too."
I bit down hard on my lip as tears fell soundlessly onto the back of my hand.
What he still didn't know was that I wouldn't live long enough to see next month.
