Chapter 6 A Favor #2
Mia frowned slightly. “I had a suitcase,” she said quickly. “You didn’t see it when you found me?”
“I didn’t,” he replied immediately. “All I found was you lying there unconscious. There was nothing with you.”
Her stomach sank. She glanced down at herself. Her dress was wrinkled, flecked with dirt from last night. Her bag, her ID, her phone, everything was gone. At that moment, all she had left was the dress on her back.
She hesitated, her lips parting before she finally said, softly, “Thank you, Mr. Graves. I’ll accept this favor from you.”
Alexander’s expression softened completely, the tension easing from his jaw. His smile returned, and he released her waist, slipping his hands casually into his pockets.
For a moment, he studied her carefully, then his brows drew together slightly. “It was snowing heavily last night. And you were barefoot. What were you doing out there alone? Was someone trying to hurt you?”
Mia shook her head. “No. It’s nothing like that,” she answered, her voice small. But she didn’t explain further.
Alexander’s expression turned slightly displeased at her evasive response, but he didn’t press her.
He paused, letting his tone slide into casual curiosity, though his eyes betrayed him—intense, searching, eager for the answer.
“I also heard… you divorced Mr. Sinclair. That you separated from him. Is that true?”
Mia’s head snapped toward him. Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her face. ‘How does he know about this already?’
“As far as I know,” Alexander continued in a casual tone, though his eyes stayed on her. “Mr. Sinclair didn’t even attend your parents’ funeral because he wasn’t happy in your marriage.”
At his words, anger flared in Mia’s eyes. Her chest tightened, her fingers clenching.
“He didn’t come to my parents’ funeral,” her teeth clenched. “He never treated us like family. He didn’t even give me a proper marriage. So why would he go around saying he wasn’t happy in our marriage when he’s the one who wronged me?!”
Alexander’s eyes darkened as he looked at her. Tension rippled through him, his jaw tightening. ‘What right did that man have to hurt my Mia? To make her this upset… over someone as worthless as him?’
The next moment, he lifted his hand and gently stroked the back of her head. His touch startled her; her body stiffened, and she turned toward him, eyes wide in surprise. But Alexander didn’t stop. His palm moved with slow, careful strokes.
When she looked up at him, his hand slid to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek with surprising tenderness. His deep voice carried a hint of restrained anger as he said, “If I had such a beautiful and adorable wife, I would never dare to make her sad. Not even for a second.”
His tone sharpened, eyes narrowing. “Even the slightest frown on your face would be enough for me to break a man’s legs and cut out his tongue for speaking ill of you.”
Mia’s mouth fell open, surprised by his words.
Her mind raced—his intensity, the sharpness in his tone, the raw danger radiating from him.
Her heart skipped a beat. ‘He really is dangerous…’ A shiver ran down her spine.
Then another thought struck her. ‘But he’s not wrong.
I was good to James for five years! He should have been kinder to me in return, instead of badmouthing me. ’
She straightened instantly, and within moments, the troubled look on her face began to fade. “You’re right!” she said decisively. “It should have been cut off.”
Alexander’s lips curved into a small smile, one that carried both amusement and affection. “Miss Bennett, are you scared of me?”
“No, Mr. Graves,” she replied promptly. She tilted her head slightly and met his eyes. “I think… you’re a really nice person.”
Alexander’s face lit up immediately. That affectionate smile never left his features as he looked down at her. Seeing her return the smile only made him more pleased and satisfied.
“Good,” he said softly, almost in relief. Then, leaning slightly closer, he added, “Then how about breakfast? You’ve been sick since last night; you need to eat something.”
Mia hesitated, a wave of embarrassment crossing her face. “I… I’m not hungry,” she murmured. But a soft growl from her stomach betrayed her, twisting sharply with a mix of shame and hunger. With a sheepish glance, she looked up at him and admitted softly, “All right. I’ll eat.”
Alexander’s smile widened, a grin this time. “Come with me. I’ve already arranged breakfast.”
Together, they walked out of the room and down the grand staircase, the chill of the morning air from the snow outside brushing past them as they entered the dining room.
The mansion was huge, every corner sharp and clean.
The floors were polished dark wood that shone in the sunlight.
Tall windows let the light spill over velvet chairs in deep red and green.
Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and artifacts, each carefully placed.
Rugs in blue and burgundy added color, and the warm glow of chandeliers made everything feel alive.
Mia’s eyes widened. She had never seen a home like this. Her gaze then fell to the breakfast table, and her breath caught again. Everything was perfect: fresh fruit glistening, warm pastries, steaming cups of coffee, and delicate china, each item placed with the same meticulous care.
Mia lowered herself onto the chair he pulled out for her, her hands tightening into fists in her lap as she swallowed hard.
Her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage, awareness of his presence pressing down on her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, voice small and hesitant.
“Mr. Graves, thank you for letting me stay last night…”
Her hands curled tighter, breath catching as her gaze flickered across his intense features. “I… I think I should skip breakfast and leave. I don’t want to bother you any further.”
She turned to stand, intending to leave, but Alexander was already there. In a single, fluid movement, he stepped into the hallway, blocking her path.
Startled, she stepped back until her back hit the couch. But instead of stepping aside, Alexander immediately moved closer, placing one hand on the back of the couch, trapping her between him and the furniture.
He leaned in, his breath brushing her skin as he asked, calm but deadly, “You want to leave?”