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Alexander Stone, the wealthiest man in the world, was known for being a workaholic.
Grace Miller had been married to him for five years, during which he had left her behind countless
times for business.
The first time was on her birthday.
She booked a restaurant and waited all day, only to learn he had flown abroad last minute for a business deal.
The second time was after her car accident. Hovering between life and death, she needed a family member’s signature.
With the last of her strength, she texted him–only to receive a cold reply. [I‘ m in the middle of a meeting. It’s important. Figure it out yourself.]
The third time was when her father was on his deathbed, barely holding on just to see him one last
time.
Alexander, however, was too busy presiding over the signing of a multibillion–dollar project.
She held her father’s fading hand as the call beeped coldly on the other end, her heart finally going
numb‘.
Again and again, she came to the same brutal realization that in Alexander Stone’s world, nothing
and no one ever came before his empire‘.
She reminded herself this was the price of a marriage forged out of convenience. He had warned her
from the very beginning.
He would never love her. Still, she had believed at least he’d never love anyone else.
She nearly got used to that icy emptiness. Then one day, high society was rocked by shocking news
The man who had never looked twice at women, who lived and breathed only for business, had taken a mistress. And not just taken her in–he spoiled her beyond reason.
Rumors spread fast. Word was, he ditched a billion–dollar signing just to take her skiing in the Alps.
He wiped out an entire week of meetings just to nurse her kitten back to health.
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He even let her scribble on contracts worth millions, and called off negotiations because she thought it was “boring.”
When Grace first heard it, she refused to believe it.
“Impossible. This was Alexander Stone. To him, time was as precious as life, and his reason often tipped into cruelty.
But against her better judgment, she called in every contact, every favor, and spent every last dollar just to investigate the mysterious girl.
Still, Alexander had guarded her so fiercely that after exhausting herself and her resources, all Grace managed to obtain was a single, blurry photo–an illicit snapshot of a young woman’s delicate profile.
The girl looked sweet, almost fragile, as Alexander held her protectively in his arms. Grace had never witnessed such tenderness in five years of marriage.
That same afternoon, still clutching the photo with trembling hands, Grace stumbled outside in a daze. She had barely reached the curb when a black Rolls–Royce came barreling toward her, wild and out of control.
She didn’t even see the driver. Her body lifted, then slammed onto the pavement, and agony consumed her as everything went black.
When she woke again, it was to the sharp sting of disinfectant in the hospital. The first face she saw was that of Ethan Cole, Alexander’s ever–composed chief secretary.
“Mrs. Stone, you‘ re awake.” His tone was flat, almost mechanical. “Mr. Stone asked me to remind you–stop digging where you shouldn’t. Next time, it won’t just be an ‘‘‘‘accident.‘
Grace’s eyes flew wide. Pain seared through her chest, stealing her breath‘.
Him?
It was him?!
All because she had uncovered a single photo, Alexander Stone had orchestrated a car crash to silence her.
Wave after wave of shock and heartbreak pulled her under. The man she had loved for years–the man she thought cared only for work–was capable of cruelty beyond imagination, all for another
woman.
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She didn’t want to believe it. But she couldn’t deny it anymore.
She thought she’d never see the girl’s real face.
But a week later, an unexpected call came‘.
It was the police station.
“Is this Mrs. Alexander Stone? Someone has filed a report… accusing Mr. Stone of soliciting
prostitution. We need you to come down here.”
Grace‘ s mind went blank.
Prostitution? Alexander Stone?
She rushed to the station, moving on autopilot, as if her body were no longer her own.
The moment Grace stepped into the station, she froze.
The moment Grace stepped into the station, she froze. A young girl in a designer dress sat with her
legs crossed, face twisted in arrogant displeasure. She snapped, “Why haven’t you called him here yet? Did you not hear me? I said I want to report him for soliciting! Or is it because he’s the richest
man in the world that you‘ re too scared to arrest him?”
The officers nearby broke into nervous sweat, fumbling for words.
“Miss, perhaps there’s been some misunderstanding. Mr. Stone
“What misunderstanding?!” The girl stomped her foot, pouting inindignation. “If you won’t arrest
him, I’ll just go to another precinct!”
Before anyone could respond, the screech of brakes split the air outside.
A sleek black sedan pulled up. Alexander Stone walked in, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.
His face was cold, strikingly handsome, and his sheer presence silenced the entire hall.
His eyes landed on Grace first. His brow creased sharply.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was cutting, ice–cold.
Her throat tightened. She forced out hoarsely, “The police… called me.”
His expression darkened further. “This has nothing to do with you. Go home.”
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Without another glance, he strode straight to the girl causing the commotion. What followed hit
Grace like lightning. Her blood ran cold.
The man who had always been untouchable, aloof, and frigid–was now lowering himself, literally
crouching in front of the girl, tilting his head up with a tenderness Grace had never once seen. His
voice softened into a tone of indulgence, even laced with a trace of coaxing.
“Baby, who upset you this time? Hmm?”
Bella Hart’s eyes filled with tears. She pouted in mock grievance‘. “You did! You didn’t reply to my message within three seconds. I was so mad I came here to report you for solicitation!‘”
The absurdity of it made every officer in the room suck in a sharp breath.
But Alexander didn’t so much as frown. Instead, he chuckled low, brushing his fingers along her
cheek with unbelievable gentleness.
“All right, all right, it’s my fault. Since you reported me for solicitation, I’ll just let them throw me in for a few days to make it up to you. Would that cheer you up‘‘?”
When he extended his hand toward a stunned officer, silently demanding to be cuffed, several policemen blanched in fear.
His assistant rushed forward, panicked. “Miss Hart, you‘ ve misunderstood! This morning, Mr. Stone injured his arm in an accident. He’s been at the hospital getting stitches, and his phone died in the meantime. That’s why he didn’t reply to your message. Please don‘ t be upset!”
Bella’s gaze darted to his sleeve. She instantly grabbed his hand and saw the white gauze peeking from beneath his cuff. Tears spilled over at once.
“You‘ re hurt? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Alexander only reached up, gently wiping her tears away. “Regardless, I promised to reply instantly. I failed. That’s on me–I deserve punishment.”
She cried harder, then suddenly threw herself into his arms. “Why are you so good to me?”
He held her close, his voice dripping with tenderness. “Because I love you. It was my mistake. So tell me, Baby–how do you want me to atone?”
Sniffling, she blinked through tears, then gave a mischievous little pout. “I want you to carry me on your back. Right here.”
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The assistant blanched, ready to protest, but Alexander silenced him with a raised hand.
His gaze softened as he asked, “It has to be here?”
“It has to be here.”
“Then all right.” he sank to the police station floor, humbling his proud stature for her alone. His voice was velvety soft‘. “Hop on.”
Bella broke into delighted laughter, hopping onto his back like a spoiled princess.
Bella burst into laughter, climbing onto his back like a pampered princess. And the titan of global
finance, the man who commanded boardrooms and headlines–strode across the police station
floor with her on his back, his face showing nothing but indulgence. Nothing but love.
The entire station went dead silent. No one dared to breathe.
Except Grace Miller.
She pressed a trembling hand over her mouth, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face.
If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed it—
That the Alexander Stone she knew, cold and ruthless, who lived for nothing but work, could reveal
such a side of himself.
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