Chapter 2 The Empire Group #2
“I get busy,” he murmured. “I forget to eat. Forget to drink. Forget to rest. So your job… is to remind me. Bring me tea, bring me meals. Sit with me. We’ll eat together. And the rest of the time,” his voice dipped even softer, “you can do whatever you like.”
Mia let out a small laugh, her eyes curved with amusement. “That sounds like a fun job, Mr. Graves.”
He chuckled at her tone and leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. “I’ll arrange a desk for you in my office. Right across from me.” He ran his thumb gently along her waist. “Just sit there… where I can watch you while you do this important job for me, Mrs. Graves.”
Mia shook her head quickly and pointed to the outside area where the other employees sat. “I want to sit out there. With them.”
Alexander’s expression flickered—just a second of displeasure, possessiveness. He opened his mouth to argue, but she looked up at him with a pleading expression.
His face softened immediately.
He sighed, defeated, pulling her into his chest.
“You know I can’t refuse you for anything,” he said, voice low enough to vibrate through her. His hand rested on her waist, thumb stroking the fabric of her shirt like he couldn’t help himself. “You take advantage of that all the time, Mia.”
She gave him a sheepish grin, leaning into his chest, breathing in the clean, warm scent of him. For a moment, she just stayed like that—pressed against him, his arms wrapped around her like he’d been waiting all day for this.
Then she pulled back a little, looking up at him. “I’ll go now. You should get back to work.”
She turned—barely a step—when his fingers closed around her wrist. He pulled her back against him in one sharp tug.
Before she could breathe, his mouth was on hers.
His lips crashed onto hers with slow, hungry force. His hand slid up her back, pressing her into him until her body molded against his effortlessly.
His fingers tightened slightly in her hair, guiding her mouth to his, controlling the angle as he kissed her slower, deeper, more intensely. His tongue brushed hers in a teasing sweep that made her knees soften, and her fingers clutched helplessly at his shirt, trying to stay upright.
He kissed her again—long, drawn-out—his breath mingling with hers, their hearts thudding against each other.
Mia broke away first, breath shaky, lips tingling, eyes shining with something she couldn’t hide.
“Mr. Graves, it’s been a very long time since I’ve come to your office…” she whispered, her voice barely steady. “I should really go back now.”
He made a low sound—half frustration, half desire—as she slipped from his hold, quick and light, before his fingers could close around her again.
Her escape was almost playful. Almost.
Alexander’s expression tightened instantly. Jaw clenching, eyes narrowing with pure displeasure and a heat that hadn’t settled at all.
He reached for her—too slow by a second.
She was already at the door.
“Mia,” he warned, voice rough enough to stop her steps but she didn’t turn.
She pushed the door open and hurried out before he could drag her back into another kiss he absolutely wasn’t finished with.
The moment she disappeared, Alexander stood there, breath uneven, hands still warm from touching her, irritation and desire burning in his eyes.
She got away.
For now.
***
Mia walked to the secretary's department outside. The place was bright and open, filled with neat desks arranged in rows. There were several young women and men around. Stylish, confident, and sharp-eyed.
Mia took one of the desks in the middle. She sat down quietly, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her keyboard.
After a few minutes, the woman sitting beside her leaned over with a friendly smile.
“You’re so lucky,” she whispered. “All you have to do is take care of Boss's personal matters. Do you know how many women dream of that job?”
Mia blinked, a little flustered.
“Mia, right? Mr. Graves’ new personal secretary?” the woman in front of her said with an easy grin. “Hi, I’m Poppy.”
The assistant on Mia’s other side also leaned in, propping her elbow on the desk. “And I’m Savannah. Hey!” she flashed a smile to Mia, then lowered her voice in a quick whisper, eyes sparkling with gossip. “Actually… did you know Janet Goodwin was offered that position a few years ago?”
Poppy’s eyebrows lifted immediately. “Janet? That short haired woman who attends office parties with Boss?”
“Oh, yes,” Savannah said quickly, nodding. “But she was furious! She took it as an insult to her abilities. She made such a big scene that Allen had to drag her out of Mr. Graves’s office!”
Poppy covered her mouth, eyes widening with guilty amusement.
“Fuck, yes—how could I forget that? I saw it. I honestly didn’t understand why she was making such a fuss. Isn’t she just a basic, small-level office worker here? And still, she was screaming like the world was ending.”
She leaned in, lowering her voice though her tone was still excited.
“Allen even gave her his personal company card that day, telling her that if she changed her mind, she could text him. The position was actually offered so she could easily accompany Mr. Graves to events whenever needed. You know… since she signed that contract with him? Basically, it was to keep other women away from him—like a shield, so no one else could even try to get close to him.”
Savannah shook her head, exasperated. “Exactly! But she completely misunderstood it. Made it into a huge issue, even though Allen explained everything to her so damn calmly.”
They both sighed like they were recalling a legendary office drama.
Mia listened quietly as the two women spoke, glancing between them, nodding as if taking in gossip like a secret lesson.
When the conversation ended, the women leaned back into their work. Mia settled into her chair, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, though she wasn’t typing anything. Her eyes slid sideways.
Across the glass partition that separated the secretary area from the main department, Janet sat at her desk. She wasn’t typing either. She was staring.
At Mia.
Mia’s heart skipped. She quickly turned back to her computer and opened Candy Crush, smashing candies rapidly just to look occupied.
A few hours passed when Poppy nudged her elbow lightly.
“Let’s go eat. I’m heading to the cafeteria. You’re coming, right?”
Savannah, sitting on Mia’s other side, rubbed her stomach dramatically, “Yes. Please. I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Poppy teased.
Savannah narrowed her eyes at her. “And?”
Mia smiled and stood with them. The three walked down the hallway, chatting lightly, and entered the cafeteria. It was bustling—tables full, people talking, the smell of warm lunch spreading through the air.
As they sat down with their trays, several people at nearby tables turned to look at Mia. Some whispered. Some stared openly. Some smiled like they were trying to look friendly.
By the time they were halfway through their meal, a woman from another table leaned closer. “You are so pretty,” she said with a smile. “Did you join today?”
Mia returned the smile politely. “Yes. I’m Mr. Graves’ secretary.”
“Oh,” the woman blinked, surprised. “That’s… impressive. Usually, Allen handles all his personal matters.”
Before Mia could reply, a man from the same table stood up. He walked over with confidence and stopped right beside Mia.
He tilted his head slightly, phone extended toward her. “Can I have your number?”
Mia froze for a split second, caught completely off guard.
Mia froze. Then, she grabbed her lunch tray quickly. “I’m sorry—I need to get back,” she said and hurried out, leaving the cafeteria mid-lunch.
Behind her, the cafeteria erupted into whispers.
And within minutes—
Phones came out.
Screens lit up.
A group chat formed instantly and messages started flooding:
‘Does anyone have the new girl’s number?’
‘I want her number too.’
‘Which department is she in?’
‘Anyone know where she sits? I’ll move departments if I have to.’
‘I’m serious—if you give me her number, I’ll give you my salary for this month!’
Poppy and Savannah returned to the secretary’s office shortly after Mia.
Savannah leaned across her desk to look at Mia, studying her face. Then she grabbed her cheeks between her hands and cried out:
“Even your smile is cute! I want to pinch your cheeks all the damn time!”
“Stop it!” Mia laughed, pulling away gently.
Savannah flopped her head onto her desk with a sigh.
“I’m currently fighting for your honor in that stupid group chat. They’re all losing their minds over you. Don’t worry—I’ll protect you!” She said it with a ridiculous, heroic expression that made Mia laugh again.
***
Meanwhile, Allen checked his watch and made a call.
“Mr. Graves, Mrs. Graves had lunch in the cafeteria today. Everything was fine. She seemed happy.”
Alexander, adjusting his watch, asked quietly, “Did she eat properly?”
“I believe so,” Allen replied. “She was chatting and laughing. I recorded the cafeteria feed for you.”
Allen forwarded the video.
When Alexander opened it, he watched Mia at the table—smiling—then saw the man leaning in to ask for her number.
Alexander’s expression darkened instantly. His grip on his phone tightened.
“I have already transferred him to another location, Mr. Graves,” Allen said on the line, as if anticipating his thoughts. “By the time you return from your meeting with the Tanners in an hour, he will be gone.”
Alexander’s jaw eased, the sharp edge of his anger dimming.
The next video began to play—Mia at her desk after lunch, legs tucked under her chair, quietly eating chips and playing a game while the other girls leaned in close to her.
The tension in Alexander’s expression melted completely.
A slow smile formed.
‘Mom was right to send her to the office. Now I can see her all day.’
He leaned back in his chair—soft, satisfied, utterly in love.
***
James sat in his office, slumped back in his chair, his eyes dull and heavy with exhaustion. The blinds were half-closed, letting in only slivers of afternoon light that settled across the room like dust. Papers lay untouched on the desk—he hadn’t worked properly in days.
William entered softly, closing the door behind him, a worried crease between his brows.
“Mr. Sinclair,” William said quietly, “you haven’t slept for days. You should rest. Even a short nap—”
James let out a tired exhale, long and hollow, leaning back in his chair. His fingers pressed against his forehead as if trying to push away a headache that never left.
“I don’t want to go home,” he whispered hoarsely. “The house is filled with her. Everywhere I look… Mia is there.” His voice cracked, eyes drifting unfocused toward the window. “I don’t want to go back. It keeps haunting me.” His fingers curled into a fist. “Still no news about her?”
William lowered his gaze. “We’ve searched everywhere. High and low. There’s still no trace of her. I tried contacting Mr. Stark again, but he refused to cooperate.”
James leaned forward, his spine stiffening as his expression hardened, then rose from his seat with tense movements.
“Make sure my mother and Ezra never step into my house again. Without my permission, no one is allowed to enter my house anymore.” His voice trembled but stayed firm. “And Mia’s bedroom, only Mrs. Maisel will clean it. No one else is allowed to enter her room.”
His voice softened painfully at the mention of the room, but he continued:
“Also… arrange a personal shopping assistant for her. After she comes back home, let her buy whatever she wants. No need for my permission. Also, inform everyone at the office that whenever my wife comes, no one is allowed to stop her. No matter what time—even if a meeting is in progress—let her walk straight in.”
His composure trembled. He leaned both hands against the edge of the table, his head lowering and his breathing becoming uneven. “What else…” he muttered, voice broken, as though his thoughts were slipping apart. “What else…”
William looked at him with concern and stepped closer. “Mr. Sinclair… you have already arranged all of this. And you have done more than that—”
James cut him off sharply, turning his head toward him, eyes red and strained. “Then tell me,” he demanded, “why doesn’t Mia still want to come back?”
William froze for a heartbeat, unsure how to respond. His hands twitched slightly at his sides, a flicker of helplessness crossing his face as he searched for words.
At that moment, there was noise at the door.
James immediately straightened, his shoulders lifting immediately with sudden hope, his lips parting—
“Mia?”
But the name died on his tongue.
It was Kylie.
She walked in holding a lunch box, a hopeful smile on her face. “James, I heard you haven’t been eating properly. So I brought you lunch. You should eat something.”
James’ expression fell, disappointment hitting him like a visible weight. He looked away, his chest tightening. He did not respond.
Kylie kept talking, stepping closer. “I was worried about you. I could cook for you every day if you want. I’m here. I won’t leave you alone.”
“Get out,” James said, his voice low and drained.
Kylie blinked, stunned. “James—”
He lifted his eyes, exhaustion turning cold. “I said get the fuck out!”
Kylie swallowed hard, gripping the lunchbox, but didn’t move.
Willliam leaned closer to James, speaking quietly. “Mr. Sinclair, you haven’t eaten anything for the past few days. Madam was most concerned about your health. If she sees you like this, she would definitely be very upset.”
James’ breathing paused. His eyes lowered as memories flickered quietly in his expression.
He remembered how Mia used to cook for him, even though she didn’t know how at first. He remembered how he had disliked the food, how he had frowned, how she would nervously wait for his reaction. He remembered pushing the plate away.
“Mia was also from a family where she was pampered,” he said quietly, eyes softening. “But she learned it too. Many things. For me.” His voice shook. “Was it really me… who was never satisfied with anything she did?”
Kylie stepped closer quickly, her tone louder now, filled with jealousy.
“James, why are you still thinking about her? After you did so much for her, she still left. It’s her loss!
Look—I am still here for you. No matter what.
I will be with you.” She offered the lunchbox forward with a smile, trying to appear warm.
James slowly lifted his head and stared at the lunchbox.
He remembered the first time Mia brought lunch to him at the office…
He had scolded her.
Threw the lunchbox away.
Told the receptionist not to let her in again.
James inhaled shakily.
“It seems… I really overreacted,” he said slowly, voice filled with regret. “I was at fault.”
He looked down, his voice barely audible. “When she comes back… I’ll try to make things right between us.”