Taming the Ice Queen

I didn’t lie about never having instant noodles.

I had spent my whole life eating five-star meals, luxury dishes, and perfectly plated delicacies.

But none of them ever tasted like this.

The moment I took my first bite, my eyes widened.

The warmth. The simple flavors. The way the broth coated my tongue, refreshing yet oddly comforting.

It was… heaven.

Mahir smirked, watching me closely. “So? What’s the verdict, Your Highness? Too basic for your elite tastes?”

I ignored his sarcasm, taking another bite. A bigger one.

Then another.

And another.

His smirk slowly faded. “Wait… do you actually like it?”

I didn’t answer. Just kept eating.

He blinked. “Huh. Didn’t expect that.”

I rolled my eyes, swallowing. “Not everything has to be fancy, Mahir.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Says the woman who refuses to drink anything less than imported Italian coffee.”

I ignored him, focusing on my food.

Because the truth?

I wasn’t just enjoying the food.

I was enjoying… this.

Eating with him.

A meal that wasn’t a business dinner with fake smiles and hidden motives.
A meal that wasn’t a family gathering where I feared being poisoned.

No.

This was just… dinner.

For the first time since my grandmother, I had a meal with someone that felt real.

Like it was mine.

Mahir didn’t seem to realize the weight of this moment.

He just kept eating, completely unbothered.

And maybe that’s why it felt so damn special.

We finished eating, and before I could even lean back and relax, he stood up.

“Alright. Time for you to leave.”

I frowned. Excuse me?

He walked to the sink, washing the bowls like it was completely normal to kick your CEO out of your house.