Chapter 3

"Afraid of you?" I squeezed his hand gently, feeling him shake. "Alexander, the only thing I'm afraid of is watching you keep hurting yourself like this."

His eyes went wide like I'd said something crazy. This man who controlled billions now looked as fragile as a hurt kid.

"You don't understand..." he tried to pull his hand away, but I held on.

"Then help me understand," I said, looking right into his eyes. "We have time."

For the next three days, I showed up at his office every day. Officially to plan the wedding, but really I just wanted to be near him.

On the first day, when I walked into his office, Alexander was standing by the big windows, looking completely alone. When he heard me, he spun around, panic flashing in his eyes.

"You don't have to come here every day for wedding stuff," he said stiffly, his voice obviously tense.

"Maybe I'm not just here for the wedding," I said, meeting his eyes.

He froze, his fingers starting that familiar tapping on the desk. I noticed his coffee cup was still full—he clearly hadn't touched it all day.

The second day, I brought soup. When I put the thermos on his desk, he frowned.

"You don't need to—"

"What did you eat for lunch yesterday?" I cut him off.

Alexander opened his mouth but couldn't answer. My heart sank—in my past life, I'd never noticed these things, never realized he couldn't even take care of himself.

"Drink the soup, Alexander. Please." My voice came out softer than I meant.

He looked at me for a long moment before finally picking up the thermos.

On the third day, something amazing happened.

When I walked into his office, Alexander had actually made coffee for me. His hands still shook a little, but there was something in his eyes I'd never seen before—hope.

"Your coffee," he said, carefully handing me the cup, his voice uncertain.

"Thank you," I said, letting my fingers brush his on purpose. This time, he didn't jerk away like I'd shocked him.

This tiny progress made my heart pound. Maybe, just maybe, I could help him.

As night fell, only we were left in the office. Everyone else had gone home, leaving the whole floor so quiet you could only hear the air conditioning. The intimate atmosphere made Alexander even more nervous; he kept moving papers that were already perfectly arranged on his desk.

"Why are you always so tense?" I asked softly.

His hands stopped, the papers falling onto the desk.

"I..." he started and stopped, struggling for a long time before continuing, "I don't want people to see me like this."

"Like what?"

"Out of control." His voice was barely a whisper. "My father always said weak men don't deserve to exist in this world."

When he mentioned his father, Alexander's whole body started shaking. I realized I'd hit on something painful, but I didn't stop.

"Tell me what he did."

Alexander was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn't answer. But finally, he started talking, his voice so low it seemed to come from somewhere dark and deep.

"My father... he didn't just hurt my mother physically. He broke her spirit, piece by piece." His fists clenched until his knuckles went white. "He made her believe she was nothing without him. And he told me I was just like him."

My heart sank. No wonder he was afraid of getting close to people, afraid of hurting them.

"Whenever I try to get close to someone, I hear his words." Alexander's voice got quieter, his body curling inward. "He said monster blood runs in my veins. That I'll destroy everything I touch."

"You're not him, Alexander," I said, my voice firm and clear. "You're nothing like him."

He looked up sharply, his eyes full of desperation and hope. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because monsters don't cry like this. Monsters don't care about hurting others." I slowly stood up and walked toward him. "Because monsters don't stay awake at night worrying about being a burden to someone they barely know."

Alexander watched me, the walls in his eyes crumbling bit by bit. When I reached out to hug him, his whole body trembled.

"I'm so tired, Ivy," he whispered against my shoulder, his voice heartbreakingly broken. "I'm so tired of being afraid."

This was the first time he'd really cried in front of another person. Tears fell silently, each one carrying years of loneliness and pain. I gently rubbed his back, feeling how vulnerable this powerful man really was.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore," I whispered in his ear. "I'm here."

He carefully took my hand, holding it like it was keeping him alive. In that moment, I could feel his desperate hope, that intense need to be understood and accepted, so strong it almost overwhelmed me.

After a while, Alexander's emotions calmed down. He still leaned against me but had stopped shaking. In this peaceful moment, he suddenly said:

"If it weren't for that angel... I would have died long ago."

"What angel? What are you talking about?" I asked.

Alexander suddenly went stiff, like he'd realized he said something he shouldn't have. He pulled away, fear flashing in his eyes.

"You wouldn't understand. It was... someone who saved me when I had nothing." His voice became distant but tender, and when I tried to ask more, he tensed up again.

"Alexander..."

"I can't... I can't tell you. Not yet." He shook his head, like he was protecting some precious secret.

I felt really curious. What kind of person could have been Alexander's angel in his darkest moment? Why was he so reluctant to talk about it?

It was getting late, and I had to leave. Alexander insisted on walking me downstairs, the first time he'd ever offered to do that.

The elevator went down slowly. We stood close enough that I could smell his cologne. He looked more relaxed than he had hours ago, with less desperation in his eyes.

"Thank you," he suddenly said, his voice carrying a warmth I'd never heard before.

"For what?"

"For not running away."

The elevator doors opened, and we walked into the lobby. The building seemed huge and quiet at night, with only the security guard at the front desk.

Just as I was about to say goodbye, a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows.

My blood went cold.

Brad stood in the center of the lobby, wearing that cold smile I knew too well. His eyes fixed on me with hatred, like a snake looking at its prey.

"Ivy, we need to talk," his voice echoed through the empty lobby.

"I have nothing to say to you, Brad," I forced myself to stay calm, though my heart was racing.

Memories of betrayal and murder from my past life came flooding back. This man, who once made me believe he loved me, ultimately destroyed everything I had.

"You will, once you know what you're really getting yourself into," Brad's smile got more evil as his eyes moved from me to Alexander. "Especially about your precious fiancé's... little secret."

I felt Alexander go rigid next to me, returning to that state of extreme tension.

"What secret?" I demanded.

"Oh, sweet Ivy." Brad slowly walked toward us, each step full of threat. "You think you know Alexander Stone? You have no idea what he's done, why he really wants to marry you."

Alexander's hands clenched into fists. I could see him struggling to control his emotions, but Brad's words had clearly hit a nerve.