Chapter 3 Sister?!
Mia sipped on her mocktail as she waited in the restaurant, the glass cool against her fingers.
Her posture was relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, soft music playing and sunlight streaming through the large windows.
When she spotted Hazel and Harold entering, she smiled and waved at them as they made their way toward her table.
Hazel reached the table and slid into the seat next to Mia, linking their arms casually, while Harold took the chair opposite them. Then, Hazel asked with a frown.
“Why did you leave so suddenly that night? You just disappeared with some guy. I couldn’t even see his face properly because it was so dark. And then his secretary came to collect your things, asking me to help. I was really worried about you.”
“It was nothing,” Mia said, brushing it off just as the waiter brought the food she had already ordered for them.
Harold looked at Mia, curiosity in his eyes, as she continued:
“When I was at the club with you that day, someone sent him a bad video of me, so he got worried and came to pick me up.”
“Who are you talking about?” Harold asked, looking between the two of them.
Neither Mia nor Hazel answered.
Hazel let out the most dramatic sigh, rubbing her forehead as if Mia had personally ruined her entire life.
“See? This is exactly my problem,” she said, pointing her spoon at Mia.
“How am I supposed to know if the man dragging you away is a good guy or a serial kidnapper? One of these days, you’ll disappear with some stranger, and I’ll just shrug and assume it’s your regular routine of being carried off by handsome, rich men. ”
Mia burst into laughter mid-bite and almost choked. Hazel instantly burst into laughter too, thumping Mia’s back while Mia coughed, wheezed, and giggled at the same time.
Once she finally caught her breath, Mia turned to Harold. “Harold, that night you said you had work and left early? How did it go? And what do you do, by the way?”
Harold straightened up instantly, posture crisp—like he’d just been summoned for a formal interview.
“It went great! I handled everything, even though it took the entire night of hard work.” He shook his head with a proud, long-suffering sigh. “Good thing I made it on time. Honestly, they can’t handle anything without me in our business.”
He lifted his chin, pride practically glowing. “We’re in the family’s jewelry business. I manage the jewelry supply for our stores and help with the designing. I might move into something else later, but for now, that’s my battlefield.”
“You’re very talented,” Mia said, smiling warmly. “It really sounds like you’re doing well. You seem happy.”
Harold’s face lit up instantly, pride sparkling in his eyes. “I am! And honestly, I think I’m doing pretty great.” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice dramatically. “But no one praises me enough. I’m suffering from a tragic shortage of compliments.”
Then—Harold shifted closer, just a little, enough to close the space between them. He tilted his head forward toward her, his eyes sparkling.
“Here,” he said, pointing at his impeccably shiny, perfectly groomed hair. “You can pat me on the head to acknowledge my excellence.”
There was a teasing challenge in his gaze—not serious, but undeniably flirty.
Harold reached across the table, sliding his hand forward until his fingers brushed the back of Mia’s hand. Then, with a light, playful tug, he tried to draw her hand toward him, as if inviting her to follow through on his joke.
Mia let out a soft laugh and quickly pulled her hand back to her side, returning it to her plate. “No,” she said, smiling. “You’re confident enough without my help.”
Hazel noticed instantly. Her expression sharpened, and she lifted her fork like a tiny weapon, pointing it straight at Harold. “Don’t flirt with my friend,” she warned. “You’re not allowed!”
Harold froze, then looked at Hazel like she’d personally offended his entire family name. “And why not? What does it have to do with you?”
Hazel kept her face completely blank—stone cold. “Because I don’t want you to.”
Harold let out a loud, offended gasp and dramatically slumped back in his chair.
“So what? You want me to die single for the rest of my life?” He pressed a hand to his chest like a tragic hero, then quickly straightened, trying to save himself from the embarrassment.
“Anyway, don’t worry about me. I already like someone. ”
Mia and Hazel snapped their heads toward each other at the exact same time, eyes widening, excitement buzzing between them like alarm sirens. Then they whipped their attention back to Harold in perfect sync—full gossip mode activated.
“Who is it?” Mia demanded, leaning forward so fast her elbows landed on the table.
Hazel slid closer too, resting her chin on her palm as her eyes narrowed with curiosity. “Have I seen her? Do I know her?”
Harold cleared his throat and set down his utensils, suddenly shifting into a posture so smooth and composed it looked rehearsed.
“I haven’t confessed yet,” he announced grandly.
“But I’m not the type who goes unnoticed.
” He pushed his hair back with dramatic flair, chin tilting up.
“And I’m sure she’s not indifferent to me either.
I mean, look at me—handsome, charming, successful.
I don’t have a single flaw. I’m the perfect man.
Any woman would be lucky to have me. She’ll obviously say yes if I propose. ”
Hazel stared at him.
Blink.
Blink.
Then she released the slowest exhale known to mankind. “So you’re just crushing on a woman.”
Harold immediately choked on nothing, laughing awkwardly. “W-well… crushes turn into relationships, right? I mean—every love story starts somewhere. Mine is just… starting with admiration. Deep admiration. From a respectful distance.”
Hazel raised an eyebrow. “So basically, you like her, and she has no idea you exist.”
Harold slapped a hand on his chest, scandalized. “She definitely knows I exist. I’m unforgettable.”
Hazel didn’t even blink this time. “You’re loud. That’s not the same thing.”
Mia covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
And in the middle of Harold’s wounded groaning, none of them noticed Alexander entering the restaurant with Allen beside him.
Allen glanced at his watch. “Mr. Graves, Mr. Silva must already be in the private room. I’ll call to confirm.”
He reached for his phone, casually scanning the restaurant—then froze so hard it looked like someone pressed a pause button on him.
His eyes widened. “M-Mr. Graves… isn’t that Mrs. Graves over there?”
Alexander stopped mid-step.
His shoulders rolled back, tension forming. He turned his head, following Allen’s line of sight.
His gaze locked onto Mia immediately. She was sitting across from a man, smiling, relaxed, laughing.
His jaw tightened. His expression didn’t crack—but something sharp flickered behind his eyes.
He turned away as if forcing himself to ignore it, walking toward the private meeting room.
Allen exhaled in relief and followed—only to stumble when Alexander suddenly stopped again.
It was as if something yanked him backward.
Without a word, Alexander spun on his heel and strode straight toward Mia this time.
Allen halted, stunned. “M-Mr. Graves—your meeting. Mr. Silva is already waiting!” His voice rose, a little panicked, but Alexander didn’t respond.
His strides were quick, almost aggressive.
At the table, Mia was laughing. Head slightly tilted back, eyes bright. Harold leaned closer, watching her with unmistakable admiration.
Alexander came to a stop right behind Mia.
His hands rested on the back of the couch where she sat, fingers curling slightly into the fabric. He leaned down, close enough that his presence pressed against her space—warm breath, clean cologne, a shadow falling over her shoulder.
Mia was still talking, unaware.
“It was actually really fun. I mean, I’ve never seen anything like that. Shirtless men serving drinks? I didn’t even know Manhattan had something like that! I only ever saw those places on Instag—”
Then a voice slid in, low and unhurried, right beside her ear.
“Was it really that fun, Miss Bennett?”
Mia jolted.
Her spine straightened instantly, almost like someone had pulled a string. She didn’t even need to turn. She knew that voice too well.
“It was—actually—not that interesting,” she corrected herself quickly, her tone switching in a heartbeat. “I really wasn’t having that much fun. Honestly, it was kind of boring.”
Hazel, still oblivious, leaned forward with innocent curiosity. “But how were the models? Did you touch any of them?”
Mia froze.
Her mind betrayed her—flashing back to Alexander’s hand trapping her wrist, guiding her palm against his chest, his eyes locked on her the entire time.
Her ears warmed. “Y-Yeah. Very… top quality. Very handsome.”
Behind her, Alexander’s fingers pressed slightly deeper into the couch. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Controlled, quick, gone in a second, but far too satisfied.
That’s when Harold suddenly looked up.
His expression froze. He shot upright in his chair, blinking rapidly, as if replaying the visual to make sure he was seeing correctly.
“Alexander?” he blurted. “What are you doing here?”
Hazel looked up too, confused, finally noticing a handsome stranger standing behind Mia.
Alexander’s eyes flicked to the man he had seen sitting across Mia. His displeasure only darkened when he noticed the man was none other than Harold.
“I’m here for a meeting,” Alexander said flatly. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at your office right now?”
Harold nodded awkwardly. “I’m on lunch break. I’ll leave after.”
Then he frowned at the closeness between Mia and Alexander—the way Alexander stood behind her like he was guarding territory.
“Wait, you two… know each other?”
Before Alexander could answer, Mia cut in quickly.