Chapter 3 Sister?! #3
Again. And again. And again.
Every lick, every breath, every brush of his lips pulled another tremor out of her.
She couldn’t even breathe. His mouth was everywhere—her pulse, her jawline, the hollow beneath her ear.
“Mia…” His voice shook against her skin.
His thumb pressed into her hip, firm, desperate, pulling her tighter against him. His body trembled—actually trembled beneath her—as he lifted his head slowly.
Their eyes met.
Dark. Unsteady. Hungry in a way that stole her breath completely.
His voice came out rough, on the edge of losing control:
“Ride me.”
***
At the Graves manor, Camila was seated on the living room couch, a porcelain teacup resting lightly between her fingers. Her eyes were closed, face calm, enjoying the quiet moment in the morning.
The peace shattered the next second.
Harold burst into the room, practically skipping with excitement. He rushed behind the couch, placed both hands on her shoulders, and leaned down eagerly.
“Aunty!” he beamed. “Have you started planning Alexander’s wedding yet? It should be a huge celebration! What have you arranged so far?”
Camila opened her eyes, her lashes slow and graceful as she placed the teacup gently onto the table. A long, weary sigh escaped her.
“It’s up to the two of them,” she replied calmly. “They will decide what they want.”
Harold immediately let go of her shoulders, hurried around the couch, and plopped next to her. He caught her hand in both of his, eyes shining.
“And you,” Camila said, turning to him, “You returned from Canada after so many years. What are your plans now?”
Harold’s expression lit up like a child handed candy. “I’m going to pursue the girl I like.”
“Oh?” Camila’s brows raised in surprise. “And who is she?”
Harold’s expression softened into something almost dreamy. “A friend of a friend. I really like her. She’s beautiful and cute. And this time—” he paused, his face turning slightly red with embarrassment, “this time I’m sure she’s the one I want to marry.”
Camila’s brows pulled together. “This time? What do you mean this time?”
Harold nearly choked on air, coughing like he’d been punched in the lungs. ‘I cannot tell Aunty that I liked Miss Emily first. Absolutely not. Over my dead body!’
His face twisted in silent agony. ‘Why is that memory still haunting me?! It was so cringe. So painfully cringe. I want to delete myself.’
He dragged a hand down his face, looking like he might cry right there at the table.
He waved his hand quickly, trying to look casual. “Ah— forget that part. What I mean is— I’ve found the girl I like. And I’m only going to marry her!”
Camila smiled and patted his hand. “Then bring her home someday. I would love to meet her. Since you like her, I’m sure she’s very special.”
Harold nodded immediately. “Soon.”
Just then, footsteps echoed lightly down the hallway, and Mia entered the living room.
She froze mid-step the moment she spotted Harold sitting there.
“Harold?” she blinked, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
Harold looked up—his eyes widened, and then his entire face lit up with disbelief and excitement.
“Mia?!” He shot to his feet. “Aunty, this is the girl I was talking—”
But his sentence never finished.
Because another figure followed Mia in.
Alexander.
His steps were calm, unhurried—but the moment his eyes fell on Harold, something in his expression shifted. His jaw tightened. His gaze went colder.
He did not say a word.
He simply crossed the short distance to Mia, as if it were instinct. His hand slid around her waist in one smooth, unthinking motion. He pulled her close against him—close enough that her shoulder rested under his arm, her side pressed against his body.
Mia tensed for a fraction of a second, caught off guard…but she didn’t move away.
Harold’s smile shattered.
His face contorted—first confusion, then shock, then complete horror as his eyes dropped to Alexander’s arm wrapped securely around Mia’s waist.
“Alexander—what are you doing?” Harold sputtered. “Why are you holding Mia like that?! She’s just your employee! You can’t just—she’ll get uncomfortable!”
Alexander didn’t respond.
If anything, his arm tightened, drawing Mia closer, as if Harold’s words were nothing but noise.
Harold’s expression twisted with outrage. “You just got married! Literally just got married! And you—" he waved both arms wildly, “—you’re hugging another girl? Are you insane?! Let go of her!”
He took a step forward, reaching out as if to pull Mia away.
He never got close.
Alexander’s hand flashed out. His fingers closed around the back of Harold’s neck and he turned him, pushing him backward with such effortless control that Harold stumbled, almost falling back onto the couch.
Harold stared at him, stunned speechless.
Then he spun toward Camila like a man seeking divine intervention.
“Aunty!” he cried, voice cracking in disbelief. “Your son has lost his mind! Isn’t he already married?! Look at him—hugging another girl like this! He’s literally throwing himself at his personal secretary! What will his wife think?!”
Camila didn’t even finish swallowing her tea.
The moment his words registered, she burst out laughing. She slapped her hand against the armrest, laughing so hard her earrings shook, tea almost spilling from her cup.
Harold stood frozen, horrified. “A-Aunty?!”
Camila kept laughing for a few seconds more before finally managing to speak, wiping at the corner of her eye with a perfectly manicured finger.
“Didn’t you say you were excited for your cousin’s wedding?” she said, voice steady but her smile refusing to leave. She pointed at Mia with complete certainty.
“That—right there—is your sister-in-law.”
Silence.
“Aunty…?” Mia whispered, confusion pulling across her face.
A low murmur brushed her ear. “He’s my cousin,” Alexander said, bending slightly toward her without removing his arm from around her waist.
Mia’s head snapped toward him, eyes widening in pure shock.
Across from her, Harold froze, staring at her as if the universe had just malfunctioned.
“M–My… sister-in-law?” he croaked.
Mia winced, her cheeks flushing a deep pink. “Just call me Mia,” she muttered quickly, flustered and mortified.
Alexander turned to her instantly, eyes locked on hers with sharp intensity.
“You are his sister-in-law. Why shouldn’t he call you that? Actually,” he added without hesitation, “he should just call you sister, to make it short.”
Harold’s eyes nearly flew out of his head.
“S—SISTER?!” he sputtered, every syllable coming out strangled.
Mia’s face crumpled in horror. “Oh God…” she whispered, covering her face with both hands.
Harold looked moments away from collapsing, so Mia grabbed his wrist in panic, fingers gripping him tightly.
“Come with me. Now. Before you have a heart attack,” she hissed under her breath.
Without waiting, she yanked him along, dragging him past the living room with surprising speed. Harold stumbled behind her, feet tripping over each other, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to speak but could only manage silent shock.
Alexander’s eyes followed them, dark and brooding.
His hands slipped into his pockets, shoulders rigid, jaw clenched. He didn’t take a single step—but his entire posture was tight, coiled, and possessive, like a predator forced to stand still while someone else walked off with what was his.