Chapter 5 Fury #2
Mia’s shoulders stiffened.
“He wanted to prove himself,” Magnus added. “But before he could return… he found out you’d married James.”
The words landed like a blow.
Mia’s body went rigid, a faint tremor running through her arms as the meaning sank in. Her fingers curled into her palms, nails biting into skin she barely felt.
“And now that you’re no longer truly in his life,” Magnus continued, his tone turning colder, sharper, “he’s back to being like this again—breaking everything, picking fights, risking himself without a second thought. All for you.”
Memories rushed through Mia’s mind, sharp and vivid. She remembered those weeks long ago—the friends she’d made, Alexander’s quiet, lingering presence. She had never realized he’d been there for her… or that he had fallen in love with her. He had never said a word. Not once.
Never once thought that he had been there for her like that.
That he had fallen in love with her.
He had never said a word. Not once.
Magnus’ expression hardened as he continued.
“I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty,” he said. “Or to burden you with his choices. I’m telling you because maybe—if you stop being angry at him for hiding certain things, if you just… let it be—he might finally stop clinging to you so desperately.”
His eyes flicked briefly toward the operation theatre before returning to her.
“But if you keep pushing him away, ignoring him, provoking him,” he said bluntly, “he’ll only get more aggressive.”
A beat.
“Just like today.”
Mia didn’t interrupt him once.
She sat there, unmoving, her face pale, her gaze unfocused as his words settled heavily around her. The air between them felt thick, suffocating.
After a few long moments of silence, Mia finally moved.
She pushed herself to her feet.
Her back straightened, her posture stiff and defensive. Her face was cold—hard—but her eyes shone with unshed tears as she looked down at Magnus. There was pain in her gaze, yes, but also fury.
“Why are you expecting me to just accept whatever comes my way,” she said, her voice shaking despite her effort to stay composed, “instead of seeing it for what it really is?”
Tears spilled over, streaking down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother wiping them away.
“Mr. Graves,” she continued, her voice cracking, “he hid things from me. He didn’t tell me the truth when he approached me. He lied—again and again.”
Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she stared at Magnus, raw anger burning in her eyes.
“Why should I accept a relationship built on lies and forgive him just so he can have his way in my life?” she demanded. “Why should I live with him for the rest of my life just because he fell in love with me—when he deceived me at every step?”
She shook her head sharply, tears falling faster now.
“These weren’t small lies,” she whispered hoarsely. “He married me with them.”
Her chest heaved as she finished, glaring at Magnus through her tears. “So why do you expect me to just accept it quietly and forgive him?”
Magnus said nothing at first.
He folded his hands over his knees, his shoulders slumping slightly as his gaze dropped to the floor. For the first time since he arrived, the fight seemed to drain out of him.
After a moment, he exhaled deeply and gave a short, resigned nod.
“I understand,” he said quietly. His voice was subdued, grim.
He looked up at her again. “It’s late. Alexander is stable now. You should go back to the hotel.”
He gestured toward the men standing nearby. “I’ll have someone take you. I’ll stay here and take care of Alexander.”
“I’ll go back on my own,” Mia said quickly, bending to gather her bags. Her fingers were rough and unsteady as she gripped the straps.
Magnus’ head snapped toward her, his expression instantly hardening.
“I don’t want to be buried alive by my brother if something happens to you again,” he said coldly. “Please. Go with the man.”
He flicked his hand toward one of the men across the hall. Without hesitation, the man stepped forward.
Mia hesitated for a brief second, glancing at Magnus. Then she turned and stormed out of the hospital, her steps fast and unsteady, the man following close behind.
Two days later, Mia was back in Manhattan.
Her body felt stiff, heavy with exhaustion, as she pushed open the door to the small bar across the street from her office. The low lighting and muted noise wrapped around her, dulling her senses just enough to breathe.
She still hadn’t seen Alexander since the attack.
The memory of that night clawed at her chest over and over again—the blood, the sound of the impact, his weight collapsing onto her—making it hard to draw a full breath.
Earlier that day, Sasha had shouted at her relentlessly for missing the meeting and ignoring repeated calls in Denver. Mia hadn’t had the strength to explain. She had stood there silently, eyes lowered, enduring every sharp word while her mind stayed trapped elsewhere.
By evening, she had quietly left the office.
And without thinking twice, she had come straight to the bar.
The drinks were already lined up on the counter when Mia lifted her head again.
She had finished three cocktails without really tasting them and was halfway through her fourth.
Her stomach felt heavy, but the ache in her chest wouldn’t ease.
No matter how much she drank, Alexander’s face kept intruding on her thoughts, along with the image of him collapsing into her arms.
She stared blankly at the glass, fingers loosely wrapped around it, and tipped back the last of the drink.
That was when someone slid onto the stool beside her.
A man leaned slightly toward her, his elbow resting on the counter as his hand reached across the bar. Mia flinched instinctively and turned her head. He wasn’t bad-looking—clean-cut, office-worn, probably from one of the nearby buildings. The kind of man who thought confidence was enough.
“I’m alone too,” he said casually, flashing a practiced smile. “You here by yourself? Want some company?”
Mia didn’t answer. She turned away, shoulders curling inward, trying to disappear into the noise and dim lighting.
But he didn’t take the hint.
He scooted his chair closer, the scrape loud against the floor, and nudged his glass toward her. “I’ve got an extra drink,” he added. “And I booked a private room here. It’s quieter. We could talk.”
Before she could respond—before she could even gather herself—his hand reached for her shoulder, fingers closing.
Just then, a sharp cry cut through the music.
“Ah—!”
In the next instant, the man was hauled backward, tumbling off the stool as his wrist was twisted painfully behind him. The chair clattered to the floor.
Mia’s breath caught. Her eyes flew up—and froze.
Alexander stood behind her.
Even with his shoulder secured in a brace, his grip was iron-tight, his posture rigid with barely restrained fury. His eyes burned as he looked down at the man sprawled on the floor.
“She’s married,” Alexander said coldly. “Fuck off.”
The man scrambled backward, fear draining all color from his face. He stammered something incoherent, shot a terrified glance at Mia, then bolted out of the bar.
Alexander didn’t watch him leave.
He stepped closer instead—so close Mia felt his chest press against her back, his heat surrounding her completely. She was trapped between him and the counter.
He reached out, took the glass the man had pushed toward her, and tossed it away.
“If you needed a man to spend the night with…” His voice dropped, low and dark, brushing against her ear. “…why didn’t you come to me?”
Mia stiffened, every muscle locking at once. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Before she could turn or pull away, Alexander hooked his hand around the back of her chair and spun it smoothly, forcing her to face him. His eyes locked onto hers—intense, searching.
Then he leaned down and kissed her.
The kiss was fierce and sudden, stealing the air from her lungs. Shock flared—and then something else. Mia kissed him back without thinking, her hands lifting to his shoulders.
When she finally gasped, struggling for breath, he pulled back just enough to lift her effortlessly into his arms.
“Let me go,” she muttered, the words slurred, weak with alcohol and emotion.
Alexander didn’t give her the chance.
When she gasped, struggling for breath, he pulled back just enough to hook an arm under her knees and lift her effortlessly. Her body swayed against his chest, unsteady, her fingers clutching weakly at his jacket.
“Let me go,” she muttered, her words slurring, heavy with alcohol and raw emotion.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he replied softly.
Before she could protest further, he bent slightly, slipping one arm firmly under her knees and the other around her back, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. Her body pressed against his chest, leaving her no room to resist.
He carried her out of the bar in long, confident strides, the city lights blurring past, and reached the car. There, he eased her gently onto the seat before sliding in beside her. The cold night air nipped at her flushed skin, but she barely noticed.
The drive home was long and silent, the low hum of the engine pressing against the tension between them. Mia leaned against the window, nausea curling in her stomach and dizziness spinning behind her eyes, her thoughts scattered and hazy.
After a while, Alexander eased the car to a stop in front of his house. The tires hissed softly against the wet pavement as he applied the brakes. Mia’s gaze flicked out the window at the familiar facade of the house, but the sight barely registered.
She tried to push herself upright, her hand bracing against the doorframe, and swung her legs out to step onto the ground.
The moment her feet made contact, a wave of weakness swept through her legs.
Her knees buckled violently, wobbling like soft wood under her weight.
She let out a low, startled groan as her balance failed her completely, her body swaying.
Her hands shot out, grasping at the seat, the car door, anything to keep herself from collapsing entirely.
Alexander caught her at the very last second. With a sharp breath, he bent and scooped her up effortlessly, holding her close as he carried her inside. The warmth of his body pressed against hers.
“I want… my apartment,” she mumbled against his chest, her voice barely audible.
He said nothing.
In the living room, he eased her down onto the couch, letting her back sink into the cushions. For a moment, he simply stood there, studying her. His expression softened—just slightly—his gaze fixed on the way she struggled to sit upright, her lashes fluttering, her breaths shallow and uneven.
Then, without a word, he bent down again.
The kiss came suddenly—rough, impatient, edged with something close to panic. Mia gasped as his mouth covered hers, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt before instinct kicked in. She tried to push him away, but he was already leaning over her, his weight pinning her into the couch.
His lips trailed along her jaw, brushed the shell of her ear, then slid down her neck. His breathing was uneven, shallow, as if he was barely holding himself together.
“Alexander—” she gasped, half-breathless, half-frantic.
His grip tightened, his movements turning feverish, desperate. That was when it snapped.
Mia shoved at his shoulders hard.
Alexander lifted his head sharply, breath ragged. His hand still cradled the back of her head, his thumb pressing into her hair as his eyes locked onto hers.
“I told you,” Mia shouted, her voice shaking, tears burning at the edges. “We are not together anymore, Mr. Graves!”
“We will be,” he said, his voice low and absolute. “Whether it takes a day, two… or a goddamn week.”
His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering.
“You’re going to come back to me. And if you don’t,” his tone dropped another degree, “I’ll bring you back myself. I’ll love you enough for both of us—until you remember how to love me too.”
“I won’t!” she cried. “I won’t love a liar!”
His gaze darkened further, something dangerous flashing through it. He straightened slightly, his chest rising and falling hard.
“I lied once,” he said slowly. “But I have never lied to you about anything else.” His voice dropped, chilling. “If you marry again, it will be to me. Only me. I’m the one who keeps you safe. I won’t let anyone else have you. Not in this lifetime.”
“I lied once,” he said, jaw tight, eyes dark with jealousy. “Once. Everything else between us was real. My feelings. My love. Our marriage.”
His voice dropped, dangerous and cold. His gaze burned into her. “Get this through that pretty head of yours,” he said slowly. “Now that you’re mine, there will be no other man in your life. You don’t get to look at anyone else. You don’t get to want anyone else.”
A bitter edge cut through his words as he leaned closer, crowding her space, his presence overwhelming.
“Because the only man you’ll ever have in this lifetime is me!”
The finality in his tone made her chest tighten.
She shoved at him, panic surging, but he was already there—his hand snaking around her wrist before she could pull away.
His eyes darkened, and without warning, he dipped his head, capturing her mouth with a kiss that was relentless, suffocating, leaving her gasping and fighting for air.
Her protests faltered under the weight of his strength, each second draining her resolve and flooding her chest with fear.
Mia’s eyes snapped open, sharp with defiance and desperation.
“Fine!” Her voice cracked, raw and trembling with anger and tears. “Let’s get it over with. Then I’ll leave this house—and I’ll never see you again!”
Alexander froze, the air between them thick and heavy. His gaze sharpened, lethal, and his hand moved with a predatory precision, closing lightly around her neck to force her eyes to meet his.
He leaned closer, his breath brushing against her ear, his voice a deadly whisper. “I’ll gladly take you. But once I’m inside you… you’re never leaving this house. Ever. It’s not going to be just one night.”
The words struck her like a physical blow.
Rage and fear collided, and tears sprang unbidden.
She shoved him, hard, her fingers scrabbling against his chest as if she could shove him out of her life entirely.
“You’ve lost your mind!” she screamed, voice cracking, fists pounding against him before she spun away, letting herself collapse under the weight of her sobs.
Alexander’s fury evaporated in an instant.