Chapter 2 Just Dinner
His presence filled the small office instantly. Sunlight from the window fell across his shoulders, outlining his tall frame, his dark suit, the cold intensity of his eyes.
Mia’s fingers trembled around her bag strap. Her throat tightened. For a moment she couldn’t even blink.
The door closed behind her with a loud, echoing thud—trapping her inside the room with him.
Her hand clenched around her bag as confusion, and shock flashed across her face. Without thinking, she turned around instantly, desperate to leave.
But a hand shot out, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her back.
Her breath stumbled.
The next second, her hips hit the edge of the meeting table—hard enough to make her gasp. Alexander moved closer, stepping into her space and trapping her completely. His arms came down on either side of her, caging her in. His body blocked every possible escape.
The room felt smaller instantly, his scent closing in around her.
“Mrs. Graves,” Alexander said in a calm, professional tone, as if they were two strangers discussing a contract. “We are here to discuss work. Are you going to act unprofessional and walk out before saying a word?”
“Yes, I am.” Her voice was firm, clipped.
Mia pushed at him stubbornly, palms flat against his chest, trying to wedge even an inch of space between them. But Alexander didn’t move. Instead, he stepped in closer—so close she felt the warm brush of his breath against her cheek. The air between them vanished completely.
“You can’t do that,” he said, voice low, eyes steady on hers. “You’re an employee. You have to follow your boss’s orders, don’t you?”
Mia’s annoyed expression sharpened into a hard glare. She lifted her chin slightly, refusing to look away.
Alexander only smiled. A slow, controlled curve of his lips that never touched his eyes. He leaned back just enough to slip one hand into his pocket, posture loosening as if he hadn’t pinned her against a table seconds ago.
“Have lunch with me,” he said, voice low and steady, almost like a statement rather than a request.
“I won’t. I don’t have time,” Mia shot back instantly.
Alexander tilted his head slightly, a faint crease forming between his brows—not anger, just the irritation of a man who wasn’t used to being refused.
“If that’s your answer,” he said, his tone dropping, “then I’ll be in your office every day until you say yes.”
“I’m not going to say yes, Mr. Graves! Please go home.” Mia grabbed her purse with a tight jaw and turned toward the door.
His voice hardened, stripped of the earlier amusement. His voice turned cold, the easy tone gone. “If you say no today, I’ll be back tomorrow. And the day after. And every damn day after that, right here in front of every single one of your colleagues, until you finally say yes.”
Mia’s fingers tightened around her purse strap, knuckles going pale. She drew in a deep breath, then turned back to face him with visible frustration.
“Mr. Graves, we aren’t together anymore.
You need to stop acting like this,” she said firmly, standing straight, her voice steady even though her hands weren’t.
“You clearly don’t love me. And I’m not interested in finding out what motive you had for trapping me in this marriage.
You’re rich and powerful. You can do anything you want, but I don’t want to be a prize you grabbed just to beat another man. ”
Alexander didn’t blink. His expression didn’t shift, not even a twitch.
“I don’t want anything except you. By now you should know that.
” His brows lifted slightly, his gaze pinning her in place.
“I’m the only man you have, and the only man you’re going to build a life with.
So your only real option is to come home with me now, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know. ”
He stepped closer again, the broad line of his shoulders tightening before easing only a fraction to show something fragile beneath it. His voice dropped lower—almost pleading.
“Don’t be angry with me, Mia.”
But Mia moved back immediately, her breath uneven, her heart thudding painfully.
“I won’t. I’m leaving you for lying to me. And I’m never coming back!”
Alexander’s eyes froze for a moment but it was enough to show a crack beneath the sharp surface.
“We’ll see about that,” he said finally. His voice quiet, controlled.
He turned away from her, his shoulders stiff, the tension in his body obvious even from behind. His gaze shifted to the bag he’d placed on the table earlier. He picked it up, then held it out toward her.
“Eat this,” he said, his voice low and firm. “You always skip breakfast. Did you even eat today?”
Mia didn’t answer.
Without another word, he reached for her hand, his grip warm as he wrapped his fingers around hers. He lifted her palm and slid the handle of the bag into it, making sure she held it.
Then he turned and walked out of the meeting room.
The door clicked shut behind him.
The moment he left, Mia let out a shaky breath. Her hands trembled as she looked inside the bag. A neatly packed breakfast—sandwiches, juice, small snacks.
All her favorites. Everything he used to watch her eat.
She slammed the bag back onto the table, untouched, and strode out of the room before her emotions could swallow her whole.
By afternoon, Mia had forced her mind back into work. Emails, calls, errands—her tasks piled up so fast she barely had time to think, and exhaustion settled into her bones. At lunchtime, she finally stepped out of the office building, relieved to breathe fresh air.
She walked toward the crosswalk with one of her coworkers, Steve, planning to grab a quick lunch across the street.
But the moment she stepped outside—
She froze.
Alexander was standing on the street, waiting beside his car.
The sunlight reflected off the shiny car body, but his eyes weren’t on her. They were locked on the man beside her—sharp, burning, deadly. A cold, seething rage simmered in his stare, so intense it made the air feel heavier.
Mia’s heart jumped painfully. She quickly turned her gaze away and pointed toward the restaurant.
“Let’s go over there,” she said quickly, her voice tight.
But they barely took two steps when Alexander’s voice cut through the street, terrifyingly calm.
“Go on a date with him,” he called out, “and I will drive him over with my car.”
He said it like a simple fact, but the threat beneath the words made the air crackle. His eyes burned into her and Steve, cold and blazing at the same time.
Steve stiffened instantly. His face went pale.
Without even looking at Mia again, he stepped away from her and practically rushed across the street toward the restaurant alone.
Mia spun around, fury burning hot in her chest as she glared at Alexander. “Mr. Graves,” she snapped, her breath shaking, “can you stop being so overbearing and rude?”
Alexander shut the car door with a low, controlled thud, the sound echoing through the parking lot. He straightened to his full height and walked toward her with long, powerful strides.
“You haven’t seen me being rude yet.”
Before she could blink, he reached her—and suddenly his shadow fell over her. Heat rolled off his body as he leaned down, his scent—clean, crisp, masculine—filling her lungs.
Then, without hesitation, Alexander scooped her straight into his arms.
“Ah—!” Mia yelped, her stomach flipping as her hands flew up, gripping the hard line of his neck to steady herself.
His hold didn’t waver. His arms were solid, muscles flexing effortlessly beneath her as he carried her toward the car like she weighed nothing.
He placed her in the backseat. The door shut with a decisive snap and she heard the lock click immediately after.
Her pulse spiked. She grabbed the handle urgently. It didn’t move.
A second later, she heard another click—the other door unlocking briefly.
Alexander slid inside, his tall frame filling the space. But the moment Mia pushed the door open to escape, his hand shot out. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, warm and undeniably strong.
“Stop it,” he murmured, tugging her back into the car.
He shut the door again—this time harder. The lock snapped into place.
In one smooth, dominant motion, he slid his arm behind her back and under her legs, lifting her off the seat once more and guiding her onto his lap. His thighs were solid beneath her, his breath warm against her cheek.
Her heart hammered.
His hand lifted, sliding into her hair, fingers curling at the back of her head. He leaned in, his face inches from hers.
Mia turned her face away at the last second.
His lips grazed her cheek anyway. The brief touch sent a shiver down her spine. He lingered there for a moment, inhaling softly near her skin before pulling back just enough to look at her.
His hand came to her chin, fingers firm but gentle as he turned her face toward him.
“Why are you running away from me?” he asked, his voice low, rough, like a quiet warning. “Is it fun to make me chase you?”
“I didn’t ask you to chase me, Mr. Graves,” she snapped, breathing unevenly. “I want you to leave me alone.”
“That is not going to happen,” he replied, his tone turning flat, cold—dangerously calm.
His thumb brushed her jaw, a possessive touch.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
“I don’t have time,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes. “I need to go back to the office after lunch.”
He didn’t even blink.
“I will wait for you,” he said quietly, the certainty in his voice leaving no room for argument. “And then I will take you to dinner tonight.”
Mia didn’t answer him. She didn’t even look his way.
Arguing with Alexander was pointless. He never backed down—never compromised. Pushing against him only made things worse, like throwing herself against a wall that wouldn’t move.
So she drew in a slow breath, forced her voice to stay flat, and muttered dismissively, “Alright,” without paying him any attention.