Chapter 6 Rumours
He stepped back, chest heaving, as if waking from a darkness he hadn’t noticed he’d fallen into. Then, slowly, carefully, he moved toward her again, his hands tentative, almost reverent, as he slid one behind her head.
He sank to his knees before her on the ground, pulling her face to rest against his neck. His voice broke, low and desperate.
“Don’t cry…” The words were fragile, shaking. “Alright. I’m not going to kiss you anymore. I promise. Mia… please. Please don’t cry.”
He rubbed her back in slow, careful circles.
But Mia shook him off, her strength barely enough to push his shoulder.
She curled into herself, drawing her knees close, arms wrapped around them, burying her face in the couch cushions.
Her sobs racked her body, violent and uncontrolled, each one shaking her from head to toe.
Tears soaked the fabric, her entire body convulsing with sobs she couldn’t hold back.
Alexander remained on his knees, frozen and helpless, his chest tightening painfully as he watched her unravel.
Each broken sob felt like a blade twisting deeper into him.
The ache swelled until he couldn’t bear it anymore.
He pulled back slowly, forcing his unsteady legs to straighten as he rose to his feet.
Turning away from her, he dragged in a breath that burned his lungs, his mind splintering under the sound of her crying.
His voice came out louder than he intended, then cracked halfway through.
“Just… stay here,” he said hoarsely. “I—I don’t want you to get sick. I’ll bring dinner for you.”
He walked away even though every step felt like tearing himself apart. Halfway to the door, he stopped. His shoulders stiffened, then sagged as he turned back to look at Mia. Guilt and pain filled his eyes.
Taking a shuddering breath, he pulled out his phone and dialed Allen’s number.
The moment Allen answered, Alexander gave the order.
“Bring dinner for Mia and me.”
“Yes, Mr. Graves,” Allen replied immediately.
About ten minutes later, Allen hurried inside and set a bag on the kitchen counter. Alexander took it immediately, his gaze drifting instinctively toward the couch.
Mia was still crying, though her sobs had softened into uneven breaths. She wiped her tears with trembling fingers, then straightened her legs and clutched the fabric of her dress, holding it as if it were the only thing keeping her composed.
“Mr. Graves…” Allen asked carefully, glancing between them. “Is Mrs. Graves all right?”
Alexander exhaled shakily, his body rigid with tension.
“She went to a bar alone,” he said, jaw tightening. “I saw her with a man. She was drinking.” His voice hardened. “I lost my mind.”
Allen stared at him, concern etched across his face, before looking back at Mia. Alexander continued, lower now, strained. “Go talk to her. Calm her down. She won’t let me get close.”
“Mr. Graves—” Allen’s eyes widened, horror flashing over his face. “What if Mrs. Graves beats me up? Look at her expression. She’s… really angry.”
Alexander drew in a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face. “Go,” he said firmly. “I’ll double your salary.”
Allen’s eyes widened further. He nodded at once. “Mr. Graves. I’ll—I'll go right now.”
He rushed toward Mia, stopping a careful distance away from the couch.
Clutching his hands together, he spoke in a gentle, almost pleading tone. “Mrs. Graves… Mr. Graves is very worried about you. Please don’t cry anymore.”
Mia kept staring ahead, tears still slipping down her cheeks, though more slowly now.
“Mrs. Graves,” Allen continued softly, choosing each word with care.
“Mr. Graves was discharged from the hospital not long ago. He’s been having severe headaches because of his injury.
Then he got into an argument with a business partner today…
” He swallowed. “He was upset because you didn’t come to see him the last two days.
He kept waiting for you at the hospital.
When you didn’t come, he went looking for you instead.
And when he saw you with another man… he lost control. ”
Mia turned on him, eyes blazing through her tears. “If he loses his temper just by looking at me,” she snapped, “then he should stop appearing everywhere I am!”
Allen let out a nervous, shaky laugh. “Mrs. Graves… you know that’s not possible.”
Her eyes narrowed in anger, a fresh set of tears spilling free.
Panicking, Allen glanced over his shoulder. Alexander stood perfectly still, eyes dark and lethal, pinned on him—because Mia was crying harder now, not less.
Terror shot through Allen, and he quickly turned back to her.
“Mrs. Graves,” he rushed out, voice trembling, “you know how much Mr. Graves loves you. He can do anything when it comes to you. He’ll do whatever you want… but he’s also too attached to ever let you go. So just—just forgive him this once.”
As Allen spoke, Alexander walked over with the dinner tray.
Seizing the opportunity, Allen hurried away the moment Alexander reached the table, practically fleeing the room.
Alexander set the tray down quietly. “Come on,” he said softly. “Have dinner.” His gaze flicked over the food. “See? I brought everything you like. None of it is bland. All of it is spicy.”
Mia turned her face away without answering, sniffing as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She refused to look at him, her shoulders drawn tight, as if even his gaze felt unbearable.
Alexander sat down beside her on the couch, slow and careful, as though one wrong movement might shatter what little calm remained. He lifted his hand and gently cupped her face, turning her toward him with barely any force, his touch hesitant rather than demanding.
“Eat your food,” he said quietly. “After that… I’ll drop you at your apartment.”
She didn’t respond. Not a single word left her lips.
After a long moment, she reached for the dinner tray. Her movements were stiff, almost aggressive. She picked up her fork and shoveled a few bites into her mouth. She ate fast and forcefully, as if punishing herself, her jaw tight. She never looked at him.
Alexander watched her closely—every rigid movement, every shallow breath, every tear she forced back by sheer will. After a moment, he picked up his own plate and began eating too, though he barely registered the food.
She didn’t eat much.
Soon, she set the plate aside. Her hands rested on her lap for a second before she lifted her eyes and looked at him once—blank, distant, stripped of emotion. Then she stood up.
Without hesitation, she walked toward the door.
Alexander immediately put his plate down and rushed after her. “You need to eat more,” he said as he caught up, his voice tight with concern.
Mia didn’t answer. She didn’t even slow down.
She stepped out of the house and onto the street. Alexander reached forward, his hand closing around her arm as he turned her back toward him. Without giving her time to react, he took her hand and pulled her toward the car.
He opened the passenger door and guided her inside. “I’m taking you back,” he said quietly.
Mia didn’t fight him this time. There was no point. She sat silently, turning her head away the moment he closed the door.
Alexander rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine before pulling out into the road.
As he drove, he reached over, his fingers brushing against her hand, trying to hold it.
She pulled away at once, folding her arms tightly across her chest, her gaze fixed on the passing streetlights outside the window.
He drew in a slow, strained breath, then slid his hand onto her thigh.
Mia stiffened and tried to move away, but his grip tightened—not painful, just firm—holding her in place for the rest of the ride. Neither of them spoke.
When the car stopped outside her apartment building, Alexander got out immediately and walked around to open her door but Mia had already opened it herself and stepped out.
He moved in front of her, blocking her path. His hand lifted, cupping her face gently, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek.
“Take care of yourself,” he said quietly. “If you’re hungry at night, give me a call. I’ll bring food for you.”
He leaned down to kiss her.
But Mia turned her face away sharply, slipping out of his grasp. Her fingers clenched at her sides, her expression closed off, unreadable.
She walked past him without looking back, heading straight toward her apartment, leaving Alexander standing there, watching her disappear.
***
Hazel stared at the photographs on Harold’s phone—and at the rapidly scrolling messages in the company group chat beneath them.
“Holy shit,” she muttered, eyes widening. “These pictures are so good.”
The photos showed Alexander pulling Mia away—his hand wrapped tightly around hers, his body angled protectively in front of her, the distance between them nonexistent.
Even though the action itself was simple, the angle captured something far more intimate.
The tension between them practically bled through the screen.
Anyone looking could tell it wasn’t just an employer dragging an employee aside.
There was clearly something else going on between them.
The photos were taken inside Alexander’s office.
The company group chat had completely exploded—messages piling up faster than Hazel could read, emojis flying, theories multiplying by the second. Hazel couldn’t stop laughing, bending forward as she scrolled, one hand clutching her stomach.
“Oh my God—look at this one,” she wheezed, tears streaming down her face from laughing too hard. “They’re dissecting his hand placement like it’s a crime scene.”
She laughed for a solid hour before finally wiping her eyes and handing the phone back to Harold as they walked side by side down the sunlit street. Sunlight filtered through the trees overhead, dappling the pavement with soft shadows.