The library felt different after that night—no longer just his sanctuary, but theirs.
Over the next few days, Alexander’s walls seemed… softer. He still worked long hours, still kept his steel edge in business, but with Amelia, his gaze lingered longer, his touch lasted just a second more.
It all came to a head one late evening, when Amelia walked into the study with a tray of tea. He was slumped at his desk, tie loosened, exhaustion pulling at the sharp lines of his face.
“You’ll burn yourself out,” she said gently, setting the tray down.
“I’ve survived worse,” he muttered, though his tone lacked its usual bite.
Amelia hesitated, then moved behind him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. At first, he went rigid—Alexander Stone, the man who trusted no one. But as her fingers b
