Elena had planned to spend her Friday evening collapsed on her couch with takeout and the mindless comfort of a romantic comedy. After a week of surviving Alexander Frost's impossible standards, she felt she deserved at least that much.
But fate had other plans.
Her best friend, Lily, insisted she come out for dinner instead. "If you don't leave that apartment, you'll fossilize by thirty," Lily said over the phone.
So Elena found herself walking into a quiet, upscale Italian restaurant downtown, tucked into a narrow street lit with golden lanterns. The hum of low conversation and clinking glasses filled the air. She scanned the room for Lily—only to freeze in place.
At a corner table, half-hidden from view, sat Alexander Frost.
He wasn't alone.
A boy, maybe ten or eleven, sat across from him, swinging his legs nervously under the table. The resemblance was striking—same dark hair, same sharp eyes, though softer, unshaped by the weight of the world. Alexander was speaking in a low voice, and though his expression remained serious, there was something different in the set of his jaw, the tilt of his head.
Gentle. Almost protective.
Elena blinked. This couldn't be the same man who had eviscerated her over a single misplaced email.
She ducked quickly behind the host's stand before either of them could see her.
"Reservation?" the host asked.
"Uh—Carter. Two," she murmured, her mind spinning.
The host nodded and gestured for her to follow. Relief washed through her when he led her to a table on the opposite side of the restaurant, far enough that she could pretend she hadn't seen anything at all.
But curiosity burned too brightly to ignore. Every so often, her eyes flicked back toward that corner table.
Who was the boy? His son? Nephew? God forbid, a younger brother?
And why did Alexander look… different?
---
Lily arrived a few minutes later, breezing in with her usual whirlwind energy. "There you are! You look exhausted. Don't tell me that boss of yours is already killing you."
Elena forced a smile, shushing her friend as she slid into the seat. "Not so loud."
Lily grinned knowingly. "So he's handsome and terrible?"
"Emphasis on terrible," Elena whispered, though her eyes betrayed her as they darted again toward the corner.
Lily caught the glance and leaned forward. "Wait. Don't tell me… that's him?"
Elena groaned. "Yes. Please, just ignore it."
But Lily was already sneaking a look. "Wow. Okay, I see it. Tall, broody, expensive suit. Total ice-block energy." Then her gaze shifted. "But wait—who's the kid?"
"I don't know," Elena admitted, lowering her voice. "But he looks… different with him."
"Different how?"
"Human," Elena said before she could stop herself.
Lily's eyebrows shot up, but before she could press further, Elena saw movement out of the corner of her eye.
Alexander was standing, placing a hand briefly on the boy's shoulder as he said something to the waiter. The boy grinned at him, a rare, unguarded smile that softened Alexander's harsh features in a way Elena had never imagined possible.
Then, as if sensing eyes on him, Alexander's gaze lifted.
And locked onto hers.
The air left her lungs.
For one terrible, endless second, neither of them looked away. His expression shifted—shock, then calculation, then that familiar mask snapping back into place. He gave no outward sign of recognition, but his eyes stayed on hers long enough to make her pulse race.
Finally, he turned back to the boy, settling the bill with a flick of his card.
Minutes later, he walked out of the restaurant with the boy at his side, not sparing Elena another glance.
But her mind wouldn't let it go.
Who was that child?
And why, for the first time since meeting him, did Alexander Frost look like a man carrying not just power but secrets?