The Billionaire's Secret Heart

Chapter 2

**Family Time**

ALEX’S POV

I signed the agreement and handed the payment file back to Mr. Draker. The meeting regarding the sale of their Maldives hotel and resort had finally come to an end. The property had been running at a loss for years, and they were desperate to sell. I wasn’t desperate to buy, but the timing was perfect. I had been wanting to construct a luxury beachside hotel in Maldives for a long time, so when I heard they were selling, I closed the deal instantly. Now the hotel belongs to me.

If you want to know who I am, then let me introduce myself. I’m Alexander Black King, the top bachelor in the world and—according to media—one of the most “notorious playboys” alive. People call me heartless, arrogant, rude, and a hundred other things, but none of those opinions matter. Only the people close to me—my parents and my friends—know how I truly am in private.

I’m not arrogant without reason. This world doesn’t spare kindness. The moment someone sees your softer side, they use it. I didn’t reach the position of one of the top billionaires worldwide by being gentle. I show my real self only to my inner circle; everyone else gets my cold side.

Women are predictable. They drool over my money, my name, my fame. Gold diggers, opportunists, and fame-chasing models—almost all of them try to get close to me for something. They know I don’t do love; I only f**k. Even then, they follow me around like I’m their lottery ticket. That is not my problem. If I want something, it becomes mine—by hook or by crook. And one more thing: **I don’t have a heart.**

My parents and friends keep telling me, “You’ll know you have a heart when you meet the right girl.” Utter bullshit. I don’t believe in that fairy-tale nonsense. My focus is my business. My stress relief? Women. On weekends. Nothing more.

My phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. The caller ID showed “Mom.” She never forgets to remind me about our weekly family dinner at the King mansion. Missing it is not an option unless one wants to face her wrath. There is no hurricane more dangerous than my mother when she’s angry.

It was already 6:00 PM. I had to be at the mansion by 7:30, so I drove home, changed into something decent, and left again. By the time I reached, it was almost 7:45. The butler opened the door, and I walked into the hall where my sister was already waiting.

Fiona had returned from her honeymoon just yesterday. She looked happier, glowing even. Her husband Zack—one of my best friends since childhood—stood beside her. We went to the same schools, the same university; he’s practically family.

“Hello, bro. How are you?” Fin asked with a bright smile.

“I’m fine. How was the honeymoon?” I replied.

My parents came over and greeted me warmly, and soon the entire hall filled with easy conversation. They talked about their trip, and I shared updates about my business. When I told them about purchasing the Maldives resort, they congratulated me instantly. They knew it had always been my dream project.

“I’ll be renovating the resort completely,” I explained. “Interior, structure, everything. Because of that, I’ll need to travel to Maldives frequently. So I may not attend dinners for a while. Sorry, Mom, Dad.”

Mom sighed but nodded with concern in her eyes.

“It’s alright, son. Attend whenever you can. But take care of yourself. Don’t overwork. Eat properly, sleep properly,” she warned firmly.

“Call me after dinner or before you sleep. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mom,” I replied, knowing arguing was useless.

During dinner, Fiona began talking about her new penthouse. She went on and on about the interior designer who worked on it. Some designer I’ve never heard of. She wasn’t famous, apparently, but Fiona kept praising her creativity and personality.

“You should hire her for your Maldives project, Alex,” she insisted.

I snorted. “I don’t hire inexperienced designers for major projects. I can get the top designers in the world.”

“But just try once! Trust me, she’s amazing,” Fin pushed stubbornly.

To shut her up, I took the designer’s card.

Ms. Ananya Khanna — Khanna Interior Designing.

I’d never even heard of the company. Must be tiny.

Still, I forwarded her number to my secretary with instructions to arrange a meeting. That was enough to keep Fin happy.

After spending some more time with family, I drove back to my penthouse. It was already 11:45 PM. I took a quick shower and collapsed into bed. Tomorrow night, all my friends were meeting at the club. After today’s long schedule, sleep came easily.

The next morning, I woke up at 10, finished my workout, handled my work, and by 7 PM, I was ready to shower and get dressed for the club.

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