Chapter 8 A New Company
Morning light flooded the room.
As Alexander’s eyes slowly opened, the sunlight felt wrong—too bright. He rolled from his back onto his stomach, his arm stretching out instinctively toward the other side of the bed.
His hand met cold sheets.
He froze.
His eyes snapped fully open as he pushed himself up on one elbow, staring at the untouched pillow beside him. The bed was empty.
His heart slammed violently against his ribs.
Alexander sat up at once, scanning the room with sharp, frantic eyes. The curtains swayed gently. Mia’s clothes were gone. The air carried no trace of her warmth.
“She wouldn’t…” he muttered under his breath.
He swung his legs off the bed and strode to the bathroom, yanking the door open.
Empty.
The mirror reflected only him—tense, pale, eyes burning.
Something ugly surged up his spine.
The anger came fast and violent. His chest tightened as his gaze landed on the glass resting near the TV. He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed it, and hurled it to the floor.
It shattered violently.
The crash echoed through the house—but it still wasn’t loud enough to drown out the fury tearing through him.
Alexander dragged on his clothes, his movements rough and impatient, and left the house without another glance back.
He drove straight to Mia’s office.
He parked across the street and waited.
Minutes stretched into hours. His jaw stayed clenched as he watched every person exit the building.
Afternoon faded into evening.
Still no Mia.
The moment night fell, something in him snapped.
Alexander shoved the car door open and stormed inside the office building, his long strides sharp and purposeful. The hallways were quiet. Too quiet.
No sign of her.
He went straight to the reception desk.
“Where is Mia?” he demanded.
The receptionist startled when she saw him. “Mr. Graves!” she gasped. “Did you need something important to—”
“Mia,” he repeated sharply, his voice slicing through her words.
She hesitated, then swallowed. “She… she quit this morning. She emailed her resignation and handed it in personally. She said she didn’t want to work here anymore.”
Alexander’s hand tightened against the desk, his fingers curling into a fist so hard his knuckles turned white. His breathing grew shallow, uneven.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out.
He reached his car, yanked the door open, and drove straight to her apartment.
The drive felt endless.
When he arrived, he slammed the door shut and took the stairs two at a time. He stopped in front of her apartment and knocked.
Silence.
He knocked again—harder this time.
Nothing.
His jaw tightened as he pulled out his phone and scrolled until he found the landlord’s number. He pressed call.
“Mr. Graves!” the landlord answered immediately, overly enthusiastic. “As you asked, I’ve been taking very good care of apartment 426. Did you need anything? Another unit, perhaps?”
“The tenant—Mia Bennett,” Alexander interrupted coldly. “She’s in 426, isn’t she? I need the keys.”
There was a brief pause.
“Oh—she already emptied the apartment today,” the landlord replied. “If you’d like the unit, I can hand the keys over right now.”
Alexander went completely still.
“She emptied the apartment?” he repeated, disbelief tightening his throat.
“Yes. She didn’t bring much when she moved in—just one suitcase. Don’t worry, all the furniture inside is in perfect condition. I’ll bring the keys over immediately.”
“No need,” Alexander snapped, ending the call without waiting for a reply.
He shoved the phone back into his pocket and turned away, his strides long and sharp as he walked back to the car. Gravel crunched beneath his shoes, the sound too loud in the quiet night. His shoulders were set hard, every muscle in his back locked tight.
He reached the driver’s side and yanked the door open, sliding inside with clipped movements before slamming it shut. The enclosed space seemed to do nothing to calm him.
His entire body went rigid as he settled behind the wheel. Both hands clamped around it, grip tightening until his knuckles blanched white. A slow, restless breath left his chest, sharp and controlled, but the tension didn’t ease.
But instead of heading toward his own office, Alexander turned the wheel sharply and drove straight to the Empire of Diamonds building.
The landlord’s voice continued rambling on the other end of the call, but Alexander barely registered it.
“The tenant, Mia Bennett… she’s in 426, isn’t she?” he cut in, his voice clipped and impatient. “I need the keys.”
“Yes, sir,” the landlord replied. “But she already emptied the apartment today. If you want the unit, I can hand the keys over right now.”
Alexander’s foot eased off the accelerator.
“She emptied the apartment?” he repeated, disbelief twisting sharply in his chest.
“Yes. She didn’t have much when she moved in—just one suitcase. Everything else was provided by us, so she didn’t take much. Don’t worry, sir. I made sure there was no damage. Everything inside is in perfect condition. I’ll bring the keys right away. Please wait.”
“No need,” Alexander barked, his voice tight with agitation as he ended the call.
Silence flooded the car.
His entire body locked up, worry coiling deep and vicious in his gut.
He strode out of the apartment building without looking back, long steps sharp and hurried as he cut through the lobby. The moment the doors slid shut behind him, he spun around and stormed back toward the parking area, irritation and unease burning hotter with every step.
He yanked open the car door and got in, slamming it shut with a force that echoed inside the enclosed space.
The engine roared to life.
He drove away from Mia’s apartment building with both hands clamped around the steering wheel, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white. Every muscle in his body was rigid, jaw clenched so hard it throbbed.
But instead of turning toward his own office, Alexander twisted the steering wheel sharply and swung the car around, tires screeching faintly against the asphalt as he cut across the road.
He pressed down on the accelerator, the city blurring past as he drove straight toward the Empire of Diamonds Corporation.
Traffic lights turned red and green around him; he barely registered them. His grip on the wheel never loosened, knuckles pale, jaw locked so tightly it ached.
When the towering glass building finally came into view, he didn’t bother parking properly. He pulled into the nearest spot, killed the engine, and shoved the door open with force. The car rocked slightly as he stepped out, slamming the door shut behind him.
Alexander crossed the plaza in long, aggressive strides, the long winter coat flaring with his movement.
The revolving doors parted as he shoved through them, entering the lobby like a storm.
Conversations died mid-sentence. A receptionist stiffened.
Several employees instinctively moved aside as he passed, sensing something dangerous in his expression.
His footsteps echoed against marble as he headed straight for the elevators.
He jabbed the button, impatient, then stepped inside the moment the doors slid open.
The ride up felt endless. His reflection in the mirrored walls showed a man barely holding himself together—eyes dark, expression carved from stone.
The moment the elevator doors opened on the executive floor, Alexander was already moving.
He marched down the corridor, ignoring the startled glances and whispered gasps, and reached the CEO’s office without slowing. He didn’t knock.
He shoved the door open with brute force.
The door slammed violently against the wall, the sharp bang echoing through the entire floor and drawing stunned silence in its wake.
Magnus, seated behind his desk with files spread before him, snapped his head up in shock.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he barked as Alexander stormed inside.
Alexander didn’t answer.
He crossed the office in seconds, seized the chair positioned in front of the desk, and whipped it aside with a harsh jerk.
The legs scraped loudly against the floor before it toppled near the wall.
He planted both hands on the desk and leaned forward, shoulders rigid, breathing shallow and controlled.
Magnus’s irritation faltered.
His gaze dropped to Alexander’s hands—and froze.
They were shaking.
His fingers trembled uncontrollably against the polished surface, tightening and loosening as if his body were betraying him.
Magnus stood up quietly and walked around the desk, stopping beside him. Up close, Alexander looked worse—jaw clenched, eyes burning, tension radiating off him.
“Is this about Mia?” Magnus asked.
“Mia disappeared again,” Alexander said.
His voice was low, stripped bare of emotion, yet it trembled with rage and something dangerously close to panic.
“She quit her job. Her apartment is empty. There’s no sign of her.”
Magnus exhaled slowly. “Did she disappear,” he asked carefully, “to escape from you?”
Alexander’s head snapped toward him instantly. “Even if she disappears to the end of the Earth, I will still find her and dig her out!”
The words tore out of him, sharp and violent.
Just the thought of Mia running, of her deliberately slipping beyond his reach, sent another surge of fury crashing through his veins.
His entire body looked wound too tight, as if one wrong breath might shatter him.
His hands were still trembling, fingers curling and uncurling against the edge of the desk, while his chest rose and fell with shallow, impatient breaths, the tension inside him heavy and suffocating.
At that moment, his phone rang.
The sound cut through the thick air like a blade.
Alexander’s gaze dropped instantly to the screen. Allen’s name flashed across it. He immediately swiped to answer and brought the phone to his ear.
“What happened?” he demanded. “Did you find her?”