Bound To The Cold Tycoon

11 : The Past He Hides

The Stone Tower was unusually quiet that night. Amelia lingered in the library, pretending to read while her thoughts tangled around Alexander’s words. I don’t believe in love.

What could make a man so powerful, so brilliant, so utterly closed off?

She got her answer sooner than expected.

Near midnight, she heard footsteps echo down the hallway. Curious, she followed, her bare feet silent against the marble floor. The trail led to Alexander’s private study, its door slightly ajar.

Through the gap, she saw him sitting alone, his jacket off, his tie loosened. A crystal tumbler rested forgotten at his side. His gaze was fixed on a small silver picture frame in his hand.

Amelia’s breath caught.

Inside the frame was a photo of a young woman—beautiful, smiling, her eyes full of life. Beside her stood a younger Alexander, his arm around her shoulders, his expression softer than Amelia had ever seen.

He wasn’t the tycoon in that picture. He was just a man.

Amelia’s hand pressed against the doorframe, her heart aching at the sight. She wanted to step inside, to ask who the woman was, but before she could, Alexander’s voice cut through the silence.

“She died.”

Her throat tightened. “Who?”

His shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t turn to face her. “My fiancée. Ten years ago.”

The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air. Amelia stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

He finally looked at her then, his eyes shadowed with pain. “She was everything. And I lost her because I trusted. Because I loved. Do you understand now, Amelia? Love isn’t a gift. It’s a weapon. And I will never let it destroy me again.”

Her chest ached as she met his gaze. For the first time, the ice in his eyes wasn’t cruel—it was broken, jagged, and unbearably human.

She wanted to reach out, to tell him he didn’t have to carry it alone. But before she could, he stood, shoving the photo back into a drawer, locking it away.

The mask was back.

“Go to bed,” he said curtly, brushing past her. “You don’t belong in this part of my life.”

Amelia stood frozen, her heart pounding. She now knew the truth. The cold tycoon wasn’t born of arrogance or greed—it was born of grief.

And though he wanted her to stay away, Amelia couldn’t shake the dangerous thought forming inside her:

Maybe she could be the one to melt the ice around his heart.