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The Ice Queen's Secret Superstar Husband Novel Cover

The Ice Queen's Secret Superstar Husband

Katy Riddle was Hollywood’s untouchable "Ice Queen" and the secret wife of Oscar-winning Best Actor, Arther Knowles. To the world, they were distant. But in the shadows, she ran his most obsessive fan account under the alias 'Chi-Chi'. Her perfect double life shattered when a leaked Gala video went viral. The footage destroyed her cold persona, showing her staring at Arther with raw, starving adoration. But the real nightmare was the final frame. The camera zoomed in, exposing a frayed, black braided string bracelet hidden beneath her diamonds. Five years ago, as a nobody, she had dropped that exact handmade token at Arther's feet in a chaotic airport crowd. "Take it down! I refuse to look like a desperate groupie!" Katy screamed at her agent. She threw millions to aggressively scrub the video from the internet, terrified her husband would discover her pathetic secret and ruin their marriage of equals. Thinking she was safe, she wore a heavy disguise and sneaked into his exclusive fan meet. But when Arther walked on stage, her heart stopped. Tucked discreetly beneath his shirt, resting against his chest, was that exact same cheap black bracelet. Why was the Best Actor wearing a crazy fan's trash? Before she could process the shock, Arther's dark eyes bypassed the screaming crowd and locked directly onto her masked face. A slow, dangerously possessive smile spread across his lips, proving he already knew exactly who she was.
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Chapter 3

The flashbulbs blinded her.

Katy stepped out of the black limousine. She walked down the red carpet, her silver sequined backless gown catching every light. She followed the usher through the gold-trimmed hallway and stepped into the massive Gala ballroom.

She found her seat at the VIP table in the very front row.

The crystal chandelier above her cast a bright, unforgiving light. Katy picked up a flute of champagne. She plastered a flawless, commercial smile on her face for the cameras tracking her every move.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rex sitting at the next table. He raised his glass to her, a nasty smirk on his face. Katy stared right through him, turning her head away.

The ballroom lights suddenly cut out. The loud chatter died instantly.

The giant LED screen on the stage lit up. A fast-paced, aggressive video montage played.

The host walked out to the center microphone. He dragged out the introduction, his voice booming through the speakers, announcing the mystery guest.

Katy's fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne glass. Her manicured nails dug into the fragile glass. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

A sharp, ice-blue spotlight hit the center of the stage. Thick white smoke rolled out from the floorboards.

The hydraulic lift slowly rose. Arther Knowles stood in the center of the smoke. He wore a custom-tailored black suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly.

The entire room erupted. Applause thundered through the ballroom. A-list actresses at the tables behind Katy stood up, clapping wildly.

Katy felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. All the air left her lungs. Arther looked untouchable. Cold. Perfect. Her brain completely short-circuited.

Arther walked up to the microphone. "Good evening," he said.

His deep, raspy voice vibrated through the massive speakers. A physical shiver ran down Katy's spine.

The corners of her mouth twitched. Her facial muscles fought against her control. She wanted to smile. She wanted to scream like the fans outside.

She bit down on the tip of her tongue. Hard. The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth. The pain forced the smile down.

Katy lifted the champagne glass and took a slow sip. The freezing liquid hit her stomach, cooling the heat rushing through her veins.

Isabella, sitting diagonally behind her, leaned forward.

"His tailor needs to be fired," Isabella whispered loudly. "That lapel is tragic."

Katy turned her head slowly. Her eyes were dead.

"Your stylist put you in a dress from two seasons ago, Isabella," Katy said, her voice dripping with ice. "I don't think you should be talking about tragedy."

Isabella's face turned bright red. She snapped her mouth shut and sat back in her chair.

On stage, Arther began a short monologue. His dark eyes scanned the VIP tables.

His gaze swept toward Katy's section.

Panic seized her chest. Katy immediately dropped her head. She reached down and pretended to smooth out an invisible wrinkle on her silver dress.

As she looked down, she noticed a red light blinking in the shadows to her right. A paparazzi camera lens was pointed directly at her face.

Cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. Katy forced her spine straight. She locked her jaw and stared at the stage with the bored, critical expression of a rival actor.

Arther finished his speech. He bowed his head slightly. The room exploded into applause again.

Katy clapped her hands together. Her movements were small, stiff, and completely devoid of emotion.

Arther turned around and walked off the stage, disappearing behind the heavy velvet curtains.

Katy let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Her silver dress felt heavy and suffocating against her damp skin. She set the full glass of champagne down on the table.

She stood up. She nodded politely to the director sitting next to her.

She grabbed the heavy fabric of her skirt and walked toward the side exit of the ballroom. She needed to get to the backstage dressing rooms.

Her steps looked elegant, but she was walking dangerously fast. She needed to escape the cameras. She needed to breathe.

She pushed through the heavy double doors. They clicked shut behind her, cutting off the noise of the ballroom. Katy leaned against the wall and exhaled a long, shaky breath.

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