Bound To The Cold Tycoon

5: The Other Woman

The gala was in full swing, laughter and music spilling through the marble hall as New York’s elite mingled under glittering chandeliers. Amelia clutched her champagne flute like it was armor, her practiced smile hiding the storm beneath. Every pair of eyes seemed to follow her, weighing, judging.

She was still adjusting to the suffocating air of the room when a voice, sweet and sharp as glass, cut through the crowd.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the new Mrs. Stone.”

Amelia turned, her stomach sinking. A tall woman with sleek dark hair and a crimson gown approached, her confidence radiating like poison. Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Clara,” Alexander acknowledged with a curt nod. His expression was unreadable, but Amelia caught the subtle tension in his jaw.

Clara. Amelia knew the name. She’d read it in glossy magazines, whispered in gossip columns—Alexander’s rumored lover, the socialite who had once been inseparable from his side.

Clara’s eyes flicked over Amelia, slow and mocking. “I must say, Alexander, you move quickly. Just last month, I was certain you had no interest in marriage.”

The words dripped like venom. A few nearby guests paused, their curiosity piqued.

Amelia forced her smile to stay in place. “Life is full of surprises.”

Clara leaned closer, her perfume cloying. “Surprises indeed. But tell me, Amelia—how does it feel, stepping into shoes that are far too big for you? Being paraded around just to save face?”

The champagne glass trembled in Amelia’s hand. Heat flared in her chest, anger warring with the urge to remain composed. Before she could answer, Alexander’s voice sliced through the tension.

“Enough.” His tone was sharp, final. The crowd stilled.

Clara blinked, her smile faltering. “I was only making conversation.”

Alexander’s eyes turned to steel. “Amelia is my wife. And if anyone here doubts her place beside me, they’re welcome to leave.”

Gasps rippled through the room. Clara’s face stiffened, but she quickly masked it with another false smile. “Of course, darling. Congratulations again.” With a graceful turn, she slipped back into the crowd, though her eyes lingered with promises of revenge.

Amelia’s heart pounded. She hadn’t expected Alexander to defend her—not so publicly, not so fiercely. She glanced up at him, but his expression was already back to stone, unreadable.

“Don’t mistake that for affection,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear as the music swelled again. “I protect what’s mine. That’s all.”

Her chest tightened. She wanted to hate him, to dismiss his words as another move in his cold game. But as the night dragged on, she couldn’t shake the memory of his voice—sharp, commanding, but edged with something else.

Something dangerously close to care.