Chapter 6 Rumours #3
‘Usually when I tell girls about my business, they get impressed and start falling all over me… but she doesn’t care at all,’ he thought, frowning as he watched Mia quietly pick up a glass of water and take a sip.
Gavin’s lips twitched into a small smile as he kept watching her, waiting for the right moment to speak—but before he could say anything, the waiter appeared at their table.
“Your dinner, Mr. Stanley,” the waiter said politely, placing the dishes down one by one. Plates filled the table—steaming mains, rich sauces, carefully plated sides—until there was barely any space left.
After arranging everything neatly, the waiter gave a small bow. “If you need anything else, I’ll be right there,” he said, pointing across the room. “Just press the button on the table.”
He gestured to the small silver button near each chair and walked away.
Once they were alone again, Gavin slid a clean plate toward Mia and took one for himself.
“Let’s eat,” he said, already serving himself generously.
Mia glanced at him briefly, then nodded. She reached for the serving spoon and placed only a small portion on her plate—barely a few bites, just enough to be polite.
As they began eating, Gavin turned toward her, watching her carefully. “So…” he said casually, “how are things with James? Did you talk to him?”
Mia’s brows pulled together.
“No,” she replied. “We’re already divorced. Why would I talk to him?”
Gavin froze mid-movement, his spoon hovering in the air. He stared at her, confusion plain on his face. “He seemed really troubled when I saw him at the bar,” he said slowly. “I thought you two would talk things out. He kept insisting you were still his wife.”
“I’m not,” Mia said firmly. “I already told you—we’re divorced. I’m not going back to him.”
Gavin nodded, but the unease didn’t leave his face. He set his spoon down, exhaling quietly. “The last time I saw him,” he muttered, “he really seemed to care about you. Since you left, he’s been desperate. He wants you to forgive him… to get back together.”
“No.” Mia’s voice sharpened slightly. “Why would I go back?”
She straightened in her chair, irritation flashing across her features. “From beginning to end, I wasn’t the one at fault. I did everything I could in that marriage. It ended because he didn’t want me. Now we’re divorced. Why would I return to that?”
She shrugged lightly, then added, almost offhandedly, “And besides… I’m already married to someone else.”
Silence crashed between them.
It was so heavy Mia could hear the faint clink of cutlery from another table.
When she looked up, Gavin was staring at her—eyes wide, face frozen in shock.
“You’re… married?” he repeated. “To someone else?”
“Yes,” Mia said simply. “I remarried after divorcing James.”
Before she could react, Gavin suddenly leaned forward and grabbed her arm across the table.
“Who did you marry?” he demanded. “Are you sure you married the right man?”
His grip was tight, his voice strained—troubled, almost frantic.
Mia immediately pulled her arm back, her chair scraping softly against the floor. “Yes.” she said coolly.
“You’re still young,” Gavin argued, urgency creeping into his voice. “You moved from one relationship to another so easily. Maybe you should reconsider—get a divorce from that man. Don’t rush into relationships like this.”
His tone softened, coaxing—trying to persuade her.
Outside the restaurant, a black car idled quietly by the sidewalk.
Allen glanced toward Alexander, who sat stiffly in the passenger seat, his back straight, shoulders locked, his expression carved from stone.
“Mr. Graves…” Allen asked carefully. “Do you want to go inside?”
He held the tablet angled toward Alexander, the live video playing—every word between Gavin and Mia piping through the speakers.
Alexander’s gaze never left the screen. His posture remained perfect, controlled to the point of rigidity.
“It’s fine,” he said quietly, dismissively. “Girls are curious by nature.” His jaw flexed once. “She’ll come home when she’s done talking to him.”
Allen blinked, then snorted. “Wow,” he said, clearly amused. “Mr. Graves, you’re suddenly so open-minded?”
He even flashed a thumbs-up, grinning.
Inside the restaurant, Gavin suddenly leaned forward.
His hands closed around Mia’s, trapping them firmly between his palms as he bent closer, invading her space.
Alexander’s calm shattered.
In one sharp movement, he leaned forward, eyes locking onto the screen, his body going tense.
“This motherfucker wants to die,” he snarled.
The next second, the car door flew open.
Alexander stepped out without another word and strode toward the restaurant, his long steps clipped, violent.
Inside, Mia shook her head firmly. “No,” she said, voice tight. “I’m not being taken advantage of. My husband is a good man.”
Gavin tightened his grip instead of letting go, his thumbs pressing against her knuckles as he leaned closer.
“Who is he?” he asked insistently. “Who did you marry, Mia? What’s his name?”
Just wanting the conversation to end, Mia blurted out, “It’s Alexander.”
Gavin froze for a moment, then frowned. “Alexander?” he repeated. “I don’t know anyone with that name.”
He sighed and shook his head, lowering his voice as if trying to sound reasonable.
“Mia, listen to me. Don’t fall into traps like this.
These old rich men—they just want to sleep with young women.
It’ll only hurt you.” His tone sharpened.
“You’re still young. You shouldn’t trust men like that, especially someone who marries so easily.
You might just be a passing thing to him. ”
The very next moment, Mia yanked her hands free and shot to her feet so suddenly her chair screeched loudly against the floor.
“Gavin,” she snapped, her voice slicing through the air, “just because we’re friends doesn’t give you the right to insult my husband.” She glared down at him. “Don’t badmouth Alexander!”
Gavin stood up too, hands raised placatingly. “I’m saying this because I care about you. Don’t trust people so easily.”
Mia went very still.
Then she spoke, her voice controlled but cold. “Thank you, Gavin. But from now on, we should keep our distance.” She took a step back. “Meeting like this isn’t appropriate. And I don’t want my husband to misunderstand me.”
She turned and strode toward the exit, her shoulders stiff.
Just before reaching the door, she stopped.
Her fingers curled into fists. Then she spun around, fury blazing in her eyes.
“And my husband isn’t some old man!” she snapped, eyebrows pinched together, her chest heaving. “He’s super rich! Super handsome! And very much in love with me! Hah!”
She let out a sharp, scoffing laugh, tossed her head back, then huffed loudly. Turning on her heel, she stormed out.
“Mia! That’s not what I meant!” Gavin shouted, shoving his chair back as he rushed after her. His foot caught on the leg of the chair—he stumbled, crashing to the floor before scrambling back up in embarrassment. “Mia! Wait for me!”
But Mia didn’t slow down. She pushed through the doors and marched outside, her steps fast, arms folded tightly across her chest.
“Who the hell are you to talk bad about my husband?” she muttered under her breath, teeth clenched. “Old, rich, bad man? Have you even looked at yourself in the mirror, pig face? My husband is a thousand times better looking! How dare you badmouth him in front of me?”
An irritated laugh burst from her lips as she stepped onto the street—
—and froze.
Alexander stood right in front of her, his broad frame cutting off her path like an iron wall. The city lights slid over his sharp features, but there was nothing warm in his expression.