Chapter 1 Janet #2
His chest tightened, a heat rising through him that he couldn’t control.
Memories of his younger self—helpless, utterly captivated by her, completely undone by a crush too intense to name—flooded him in a rush.
That naive obsession hadn’t faded with time; if anything, it had sharpened, grown hungrier.
The realization hit him so hard that his hands reacted before his mind could catch up.
His grip on her waist snapped open. He let go of her quickly, almost abruptly, guiding her up and off his lap with a swiftness meant to hide how rattled he was.
Her balance faltered for half a second, and he steadied her, but then his hands retreated as if her touch burned.
His ears were faintly red. He rose from the chair as well.
He forced his breathing to even out and adjusted his suit jacket, smoothing the front and shielding himself, hiding the evidence of his reaction, trying to drag back the composure she always shattered.
He cleared his throat once. Then again, deeper this time.
When he finally spoke, his voice had returned to that calm, controlled authority. “Remember,” he said, eyes locked on hers, “you are my wife. No one gets to hurt my wife.”
Mia nodded, her smile small and warm and something in his eyes softened instantly.
He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking until the heat of his presence pressed against her.
His fingers lifted, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear with unnerving gentleness, and his voice dropped low, rough around the edges. “Now that we’re clear…” His gaze flicked to her lips, dark and demanding. “…will you help me with this thing that was poking you earlier?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer.
The moment the words left his mouth, his lips crashed onto hers with a force that made her inhale sharply. His hands slid down her arms in one slow sweep. Then—before she could even react—he caught both of her wrists.
A soft gasp escaped her as he drew them behind her back. He gathered her wrists into one of his hands, locking them there with effortless strength, holding her in place.
He pulled her into him—hard—until her chest pressed into his and her breath tangled with his.
His other hand moved up, threading into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he tilted her closer—deeper—into the kiss. His fingers tightened just enough to guide her, to keep her exactly where he wanted her, his breath mingling with hers, heat rolling off him in waves.
His kiss wasn’t gentle.
It was deep, hungry, claiming every inch of her mouth with hot, unfiltered want. He sucked on her lip, slow at first, then harder, dragging a soft gasp out of her. His heartbeat hammered against her stomach, wild and unrestrained, and she felt it with every kiss he stole from her.
She tried to breathe, but he kept kissing her—again and again—his tongue brushing against her lips, teasing, tasting, taking. Every time she parted her mouth for air, he captured it, pressing in deeper like he needed to drown in her.
Her knees trembled.
His breath hit her skin as he broke the kiss abruptly, not giving her a second before he was on her again—this time not her lips.
His nose skimmed down her cheek in one slow, heated glide.
She shivered instantly.
He didn’t stop.
His mouth followed the path of his nose—kissing the place just under her cheekbone, warm and lingering, like he knew exactly how fast it made her heart race. Then he trailed lower, his lips brushing the corner of her jaw.
One slow kiss. Then another. Then his tongue flicked lightly over her skin, sending a sharp jolt through her.
Her breath hitched.
His nose traced the line of her jaw to her neck—slow and intimate, like he was marking every inch with heat. She could feel the warmth of his breath before his lips touched her.
And when they finally did, it wasn’t soft.
He kissed her neck with a soft pressure that made her entire spine tighten. His hand at the back of her head held her exactly where he wanted her, guiding her neck toward him as his mouth opened against her skin.
He kissed her again—deeper.
Then dragged his lips up her neck, tongue brushing lightly in a way that made her knees give a dangerous wobble.
She gasped when his teeth grazed her, just enough to make her legs weaken further.
Her body pressed into him, trembling against his hold, and he let out a low, rough sound that vibrated against her neck before he kissed her there again—hotter this time, mouth lingering, sucking gently on the sensitive spot until her entire body melted.
Her knees buckled.
He caught her instantly.
His hand left her wrists and slid under her thighs as he swept her off the ground, lifting her into his arms like her weight meant nothing. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, breath uneven, skin flushed from his mouth.
His eyes stayed locked on hers—dark, hungry, burning.
Without breaking that stare, he carried her toward the house. She felt the tension in his arms, the heat of his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breath that wasn’t steady at all.
The rest of the world blurred and vanished behind them, leaving only the heat, the tension, and the unspoken need that crackled between them.
***
It was the next morning when Mia stepped outside, closing the door softly behind her. The sunlight was warm, but her body still felt a little sore from the night before.
Near the garden steps, Camila was standing with her phone pressed to her ear, laughing brightly.
“Yes—yes! Can you believe it? I was at that party!” Camila exclaimed, throwing her head back with dramatic disbelief.
Her hands flew to her chest, then waved through the air as if painting the scene for anyone watching.
“But… she’s changed so much! I honestly had to ask three different people if it was really her! ”
Then, on a sudden pivot, she turned on her heels and her eyes landed on Mia. Her smile widened instantly, warm and genuine.
“Kiki, I’ll call you later,” she said breezily, ending the call before the other person could get a word in.
Mia approached slowly, her steps quiet, a hint of shyness coloring her expression. “Mrs. Graves… about last night… it was just—I didn’t think much when I slapped Ja—”
Camila lifted a hand with effortless grace, cutting her off. Her soft smile was warm, reassuring, dissolving any lingering tension.
“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do,” she said calmly. “You are my son’s wife. That’s all that matters.”
But as she spoke, her expression shifted ever so slightly—just a flicker of uncertainty passing through her eyes. Her gaze settled on Mia, searching, studying her carefully.
“You didn’t lie to me, did you, Mia? You married Alexander because you love him… right?”
Mia blinked, caught off guard, then nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. Why else would two people get married? Of course I love him.”
Camila’s lips curved, clearly pleased. But then her eyes darted over Mia’s shoulder, lifting knowingly, and her smile turned mischievous.
“Did you hear that, Alexander?”
Mia’s breath hitched. She spun—and there he was.
Alexander stepped out of the doorway, hands tucked casually in his pockets, moving slow and confident. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips—the kind that made Mia’s stomach twist with heat.
“Yes,” he said, calm, amused, his gaze locked on Mia. “I heard how much she loves me.”
He didn’t look away for a single second. Mia’s cheeks flamed crimson, and she felt utterly exposed under his magnetic stare.
Camila suddenly lifted her phone with a theatrical gasp. “Ah! I’m getting another call!” she announced, staring at her clearly silent phone. “Terribly urgent! Absolutely—urgent!”
Without waiting another second, she practically fled across the courtyard, leaving a stunned Mia behind.
“Mrs—Mrs. Graves—wait, I—” Mia called, flustered and helpless. But Camila was already gone, leaving her standing there, heart racing, cheeks burning, completely caught in the aftermath of Alexander’s gaze.
When Mia turned back, Alexander was already closer. Too close. Close enough that she could feel the faint warmth of his body against her skin.
He tilted slightly, lowering himself just enough so their faces were nearly level.
His gaze was warm… teasing… intense.
“So, Mrs. Graves…” His voice dropped, slow and deep, “you love me?”
Mia’s cheeks, already tinged pink, flamed crimson. Her chest tightened, heart hammering, as she scrambled to explain herself.
“I only said it because your mom was asking me, Mr. Graves,” she rushed out, voice soft and flustered. “I just didn’t want her to think… didn’t want her to be suspicious of us. That’s all.”
Alexander’s brows lifted slightly. He stared at her, not blinking, as if studying every inch of her expression. Then, slowly — almost lazily — a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
“Is that so?” he asked, his voice lower now, smooth. “That’s the only reason?”
Mia nodded quickly. “Yes. That’s the only reason.”
His smile deepened.
Straightening to his full height, shoulders broad, posture commanding yet elegant, he looked down at her, amusement and tenderness dancing in his gaze.
“Then,” he said, drawing the word out, savoring it, “it seems I’ll just have to work harder… to make my wife love me.”
Mia’s heartbeat stuttered — then raced. Her chest rose and fell too fast. Her fingers curled into her palms.
‘Why is my heart beating so fast?’ she thought. ‘It feels like it’s going to break out of my chest.’
She stared at him with wide eyes, her whole face burning. Her ears felt hot. Her knees felt weak.
“I—I have something to do,” she blurted out, her voice embarrassingly high.
Before he could say a word, she turned and ran. Her steps were uneven, breath quick, almost tripping over her own feet. She didn’t dare look back. She couldn’t let him see how her chest had turned into jelly.
Alexander remained where she had left him, the faint smile still playing on his lips. His eyes followed her until she disappeared from sight.
Moments later, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
He pulled the phone out and answered. “Yes?”
“Mr. Graves,” Allen said on the other end, voice tight. “I found out who destroyed Mrs. Graves’ house. It was her ex-husband. James Sinclair.”
Alexander’s jaw twitched — the shift was instant. The warmth in his expression vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, lethal darkness that pressed down from his eyes.
Allen’s voice cut through the tense silence. “What are your orders, Mr. Graves?”
Alexander’s gaze didn’t waver. Quiet, measured, and dangerous, he asked, “Doesn’t he like destroying other people’s homes?”
A pause. Silence stretched taut.
“Then destroy everything he values from now on.”
“Yes, Mr. Graves.” The line clicked dead.
Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Alexander’s face remained a mask of icy displeasure, his fingers tightening subtly as if restraining himself.
At that moment, Camila stepped back outside, Mia trailing behind her, looking flustered from having been dragged back. Camila’s arm was casually linked with Mia’s, tugging her along as they walked out of the house.
Camila smiled brightly. “Alexander, take Mia to the office with you from now on. She can accompany you.”
Mia blinked, eyes darting between Camila and Alexander. “What would I… do there?”
Camila patted Mia’s hand gently. “She’s already graduated. And it’ll be good for her to have something to do,” she said, eyes soft but firm. “She should learn the business and grow beside you as your partner.”
Alexander nodded without a question. He reached out, fingers about to lace with Mia’s but Mia stepped back and looked at Camila instead.
“Mrs. Graves… can we not let everyone at the office know that I’m… associated with Mr. Graves?” she asked quietly, voice low and tense. “I don’t like attention. If people know I’m his wife, the gossip will never end. I don’t want to be part of rumors.”
Camila raised a brow, then shifted her gaze toward Alexander.
His jaw tightened instantly. Darkness flickered across his features.
“You’re going to be working with me,” he said, frowning. “I’ll take care of you. What attention are you worried about?”
Mia shook her head, her expression small and uneasy.
“That’s the problem,” she admitted. “People will approach me, pretend to be friendly… I won’t know who’s genuine and who just wants something. It’ll be overwhelming. I just… want to settle in first. Quietly.”
Alexander’s brows drew together, a storm flickering in his eyes.
Without a word, he grabbed her hand and tugged her closer, closing the space between them. His other hand rose, fingers brushing warm against her jaw as he tilted her face up toward his.
“I will settle you in,” he said, voice intense. “Do you think I’d ever let anyone walk all over you?”
His eyes said he wasn’t letting this go.
Mia’s breath stilled.
“Tsk…” Camila’s sharp click of the tongue finally broke the tension.
“Alexander, stop it. Let the poor girl breathe,” she scolded. “If she wants space, give her space. Listen to her. She is your wife, not an employee. Don’t just overpower her because you can.”
Alexander’s jaw ticked. He clearly didn’t like Mia’s decision.
But he stepped back, the fire in his eyes dimming just enough.
“…We’ll do as you want,” he muttered quietly.
Mia exhaled, relief washing over her, and offered a small, grateful smile.
Not long after, they both left for the office—but in separate cars because Mia refused to ride with him. Alexander didn’t argue, but the muscle in his jaw twitched the entire time.