The Ice Cream Queen

It was a quiet evening in the Kwong-Sethratanapong penthouse. Orm was lounging on the couch, legs stretched across the cushions, scrolling lazily through her phone. Lingling entered the room, still impeccably dressed in her work blazer and heels, holding a folder filled with documents.

"You're home late," Orm remarked without looking up, her tone teasing.

Lingling, still in her "CEO mode," raised an eyebrow. "It's called running a billion-dollar empire, darling. What's your excuse?"

Orm grinned, completely unfazed by her wife's sharp tone. "I've been busy too. Look." She gestured to a perfectly curated pile of snack wrappers on the coffee table. "Very productive."

Before Lingling could launch into one of her classic lectures about cleanliness or productivity, Orm tilted her head, her lips curving into a playful smirk. "Hey, babe," she began casually, the kind of tone that immediately put Lingling on edge.

"What?" Lingling asked warily, narrowing her eyes as she walked toward her wife.

Orm glanced back at her phone, feigning nonchalance. "I was just thinking... I really want hazelnut gelato."

Lingling paused, her hands moving to her hips as she stared down at Orm. "Hazelnut gelato."

"Yeah," Orm said with an exaggerated nod, finally locking her phone and sitting up to meet Lingling's gaze. "You know that cute little place downtown? Their hazelnut gelato is amazing."

Lingling's expression remained deadpan. "You want hazelnut gelato. Right now. At nine PM."

Orm leaned back against the couch, her smirk turning into a full grin. "Exactly."

Lingling blinked. "You're joking."

"I'm not," Orm replied, her tone infuriatingly casual. "It's a craving."

"A craving," Lingling echoed, crossing her arms.

Orm's grin widened as she stood up and walked over to her wife, wrapping her arms loosely around Lingling's waist. "But you love me, right?" she murmured, her voice dripping with faux innocence.

Lingling sighed, shaking her head. "I have an early meeting tomorrow."

Orm leaned closer, resting her chin on Lingling's shoulder, her pout fully in place. "But, Ling... it's hazelnut gelato. The love of my life deserves the love of her life."

Lingling turned her head slightly, giving Orm a flat stare. "And here I thought that was me."

Orm chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to Lingling's cheek. "You're tied with the gelato."

Lingling groaned softly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're impossible."

Orm stepped back, grinning triumphantly. "And you love me for it."

"Unfortunately," Lingling muttered, grabbing her car keys off the counter.

"Is that a yes?" Orm called after her, plopping back onto the couch with a victorious smirk.

"It's a don't talk to me until I get back," Lingling retorted, walking out the door.

As the door closed behind her, Orm grinned to herself, stretching out lazily on the couch. "She's totally whipped," she said to no one in particular.

Cut to Lingling Kwong, CEO of a billion-dollar empire, driving through the city at nearly 9 PM, in four-inch heels and a tailored blazer, gripping the steering wheel like she was preparing for a hostile corporate takeover.

"For hazelnut gelato," she muttered, gritting her teeth as she hit a red light. "I have acquisitions to review. Reports to analyze. But no, I'm driving across town because my wife has the appetite of a spoiled princess."

She inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to suppress the ridiculous fondness bubbling in her chest. Then, as if on cue, her phone lit up with a text from Orm:

Orm: Drive safe, love. Can't have my personal gelato courier getting into an accident ❤️.

Lingling groaned out loud, resisting the urge to throw her phone out the window.

Lingling: You're lucky I love you.

Orm: I know 😘.

Lingling rolled her eyes so hard she nearly swerved into the next lane.

By the time Lingling pulled up in front of the tiny gelato shop, she had half a mind to call Orm and revoke her ice cream privileges for life. But instead, she exhaled sharply, squared her shoulders, and walked in with the kind of presence that usually commanded boardrooms.

The cashier, a teenage girl, blinked in surprise. "Wait... aren't you Lingling Kwong?"

Lingling sighed, already regretting this trip. "Yes."

The cashier's eyes widened. "The CEO of Kwong Corp? The Lingling Kwong?"

Lingling clenched her jaw. "I believe that's what I just said."

The cashier's voice practically trembled. "W-What are you doing here?"

Lingling, staring deadpan: "Getting ice cream."

The cashier blinked rapidly, looking around as if trying to process the fact that a billionaire businesswoman was standing in front of her for... gelato.

"For... yourself?" she asked hesitantly.

Lingling exhaled through her nose. "No. For my wife."

The cashier gasped audibly, hand over her heart, looking one step away from fainting. "That's... so romantic."

Lingling, utterly unimpressed: "Sure."

As the girl rushed to scoop the sacred hazelnut gelato, the couple behind Lingling in line whispered to each other:

Woman: "That's Lingling Kwong." Man: "What's she doing here?" Woman: "Apparently buying ice cream for her wife. Oh my god, she's whipped."

Lingling pinched the bridge of her nose.

A moment later, the cashier handed over the gelato with the kind of reverence usually reserved for fine art. "Your wife is so lucky," she sighed dreamily.

Lingling snatched the bag and turned toward the exit without another word.

Sitting in her car, Lingling stared blankly at the tub of hazelnut gelato in her passenger seat.

She was Lingling freaking Kwong.

She negotiated mergers before breakfast. She could make CEOs cry with a single well-timed glare. She never lost control.

And yet, here she was.

Running midnight errands because Orm smiled at her.

Lingling sighed, shaking her head with a defeated chuckle. "She's lucky I'd do anything for her."

And with that, she started the car and drove home.

Lingling returned to the penthouse, her heels clicking against the marble floor like a slow drumbeat of impending doom. Her hands clutched the paper bag holding the gelato with the reverence of someone carrying priceless cargo. She paused in the entryway, exhaling sharply before stepping inside.

Orm, lounging on the couch in her sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, looked up with a wide grin. "You actually went?"

Lingling stared at her wife, her gaze sharp enough to cut through glass. "Don't start with me."

But Orm was already laughing, practically bouncing on the couch like an overexcited puppy. "You did! Oh my god, you're so whipped."

Lingling slammed the bag of gelato onto the coffee table with the kind of drama usually reserved for courtroom scenes. "Don't push it."

Orm ignored the warning, sitting up and reaching for the bag. "Hazelnut gelato, from that downtown shop. Delivered personally by Lingling Kwong. What did I do to deserve this?"

Lingling crossed her arms, glaring down at her wife. "Do you have to be this infuriating?"

Orm opened the tub, scooping out a bite with a spoon she had conveniently kept by her side. "It's my job to be charming and adorable. And, clearly, it's working."

Lingling sighed, rubbing her temples. "I just drove twenty minutes across the city, in heels, for ice cream. You could at least pretend to feel guilty."

Orm looked up, her expression so genuine that Lingling almost believed her. "I do feel guilty."

"Good."

"For about three seconds," Orm added, popping another spoonful of gelato into her mouth. "Then I remember you love me, and it all goes away."

Lingling groaned, dropping onto the couch beside her. "You're insufferable."

Orm smirked, leaning closer. "And yet, you're married to me."

Before Lingling could retort, Orm slid an arm around her waist and pulled her into her lap. "Come here. You look stressed. Let me thank you properly for being the best wife ever."

Lingling tried to maintain her icy composure, but Orm's playful grin and soft kisses on her cheek made it impossible. She finally gave in, resting her head on Orm's shoulder with a sigh. "You're lucky I love you."

Orm tilted her head, planting a kiss on Lingling's forehead. "I know. I'm the luckiest person alive."

Lingling rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "And the most annoying."

"You married me," Orm reminded her smugly, settling back into the couch with Lingling still in her arms. "So what does that say about you?"

"That I clearly have a weakness for idiots," Lingling muttered, her tone lacking any real venom.

Orm laughed, pulling Lingling closer. "Admit it—you love being whipped."

Lingling raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't call it that."

"Oh, really?" Orm gestured toward the gelato. "Because that hazelnut gelato says otherwise."

Lingling opened her mouth to argue, but Orm silenced her with another kiss—this one soft, lingering, and full of affection. By the time they pulled apart, Lingling's defenses had completely crumbled.

"Fine," Lingling admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'd do anything for you."

Orm's grin softened, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from Lingling's face. "And I'd do anything for you, Mrs. Kwong."

Lingling's heart skipped at the way Orm said it, her tone so warm and certain. "Stop being so sappy."

"Never," Orm replied, kissing her again.

The next morning, Lingling marched into her office at Kwong Corp with her usual commanding presence—or so she thought. Her assistant gave her a nervous smile, and several employees in the hallway seemed to avoid eye contact, hiding their giggles behind stacks of files. Something was definitely off.

As Lingling settled into her chair, Freen burst into her office without knocking, holding up her phone with a triumphant grin.

"Good morning, Ice Cream Queen!" Freen declared, practically cackling.

Lingling froze, her glare sharp enough to pierce steel. "What did you just call me?"

"Oh, you haven't seen?" Freen said, dragging out the moment like she was savoring a five-course meal. She tapped her phone screen and turned it toward Lingling.

There it was. A photo of Lingling Kwong, CEO of a multi-billion-dollar empire, standing in a tiny gelato shop. Her blazer was immaculate, her heels were flawless, and yet her expression screamed 'I'm here against my will' as she clutched a paper bag like it contained top-secret nuclear codes.

The caption on the viral post?

"Even the Ice Queen melts for love. Lingling Kwong spotted on a late-night gelato run for her wife! Whipped, much? ❤️🍦"

Lingling blinked slowly, the weight of the public humiliation settling on her shoulders. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Oh, I wish I were," Freen said, collapsing onto Lingling's couch, scrolling gleefully through the comments. "'This is so cute!' 'Couple goals!' Oh, here's a good one: 'Proof that true love can thaw even the iciest heart.'"

Freen laughed so hard she nearly fell off the couch. "This is the best day of my life."

Lingling pinched the bridge of her nose. "Who even took this photo?"

Freen shrugged. "The cashier, probably. I mean, how could she resist? You looked like a CEO on a covert mission to infiltrate a dessert cartel."

Lingling groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I should've known better."

Freen replied, her grin widening. "I mean, if this is how you handle cravings now, I can't wait to see what happens when Orm's pregnant."

Lingling blinked, her entire body tensing at the thought. "What are you talking about?"

Freen sat up, clearly relishing this moment. "You know, pregnancy cravings. She'll want pineapple pizza at 3 AM, or maybe some rare imported mangoes. And you? You'll probably charter a private jet to fetch them. Imagine it—'The Ice Queen's Guide to Surviving Pregnancy.'"

"Stop," Lingling deadpanned, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

"I'm just saying," Freen continued, holding up her hands in mock innocence. "Last night was clearly a trial run. You're already halfway there."

Lingling sighed, slumping into her chair. "Why do I even keep you around?"

"Because you love my sparkling personality," Freen quipped, taking a sip of her coffee. "Also, you'd be bored without me."

Before Lingling could recover, her phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime request. Reluctantly, she answered, only to find Becky grinning like the cat who caught the canary.

"Ling! Or should I say, Ice Cream Queen?" Becky crowed.

"Don't start," Lingling warned, though it lacked her usual bite.

"Start? Oh, honey, I'm halfway through!" Becky leaned closer to the camera, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I mean, look at you. The blazer, the heels—it's like you were trying to intimidate the gelato."

Freen, still scrolling through comments, chimed in from the couch. "I bet the gelato was shaking in fear."

"Can I hang up now?" Lingling deadpanned, her hand hovering over the screen.

"Not until we discuss the bigger picture," Becky said, barely containing her laughter. "Do you realize you've set a new standard? Every spouse out there is going to look at their partner and think, 'Would you drive across town at 9 PM for my gelato?' You've ruined relationships everywhere."

"Glad I could contribute to societal collapse," Lingling muttered.

"Oh, and let's not forget the real highlight," Becky added, her grin widening. "This is just a trial run for when Orm gets pregnancy cravings."

Lingling's head snapped up, her glare laser-focused. "Not you too."

"Absolutely me too," Becky said, looking far too pleased with herself. "I'm just saying, if this is how you react to hazelnut gelato, I can't wait to see you panic over, like, pickles and chocolate syrup at 3 AM."

Freen added from the couch, "She's not wrong. You're already in training. Pretty soon, you'll have a private jet ready for late-night snack runs."

Lingling groaned loudly, leaning back in her chair. "Why do I associate with either of you?"

"Because you love us," Freen said, smirking. "And because we make your life entertaining."

Later that day, as Lingling tried to focus on work, her assistant hesitantly approached her desk.

"Um, Ms. Kwong?"

Lingling looked up, arching an eyebrow. "What is it?"

The assistant held up her phone, looking sheepish. "The PR team just wanted to know if... you'd like to make a statement about the gelato post."

Lingling blinked. "A statement?"

"Yes," the assistant said nervously. "It's, uh, trending worldwide. #IceCreamQueen is the top hashtag."

Lingling stared at her for a long moment before sighing heavily. "Tell the PR team to ignore it. It'll blow over."

The assistant nodded, retreating quickly, but Lingling could already hear Freen laughing from the couch.

That evening, when Lingling returned home, Orm was waiting for her in the kitchen, grinning ear to ear.

"Welcome home, my Ice Cream Queen," Orm teased, holding out a spoon like a microphone.

Lingling glared at her. "Don't start with me."

Orm walked over, wrapping her arms around Lingling's waist. "Oh, come on. You went viral for being the best wife ever. What's not to love?"

Lingling groaned, leaning her forehead against Orm's. "I'm never living this down."

"Nope," Orm said cheerfully. "And you know what? I love it."

Lingling sighed, but her lips quirked into a reluctant smile. "You're lucky I love you."

Orm kissed her softly, her grin widening. "I know. Now, how do you feel about a midnight burger run? For old times' sake?"

Lingling swatted her playfully, her laughter echoing through the penthouse. "Don't push your luck."