Chapter 13 Choose A Dress #2
“I lied because I was afraid of scaring you away,” he admitted quietly. His forehead dipped closer to hers. “I’ve loved you for years—long before you ever knew my name. That’s why I have those photos.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice.
“Please forgive me for hiding the truth. But don’t hate me for loving you.”
His words dropped into a whisper.
“I will love you forever.”
Mia stepped back slowly, his hands falling away as her body stiffened. Too many emotions collided at once—fear, longing, confusion. She stared at him, taking in the need, the fear, and the sincerity written plainly across his face.
After a long moment, she gave a small nod.
“I’ll… think about it.”
Alexander’s face lit up instantly, as if she had already agreed. His eyes softened, a satisfied curve tugging at his lips.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped, taking a step back. Her hand rose in the air between them fast. “I didn’t agree to getting back together yet!”
“I got it,” Alexander said, though nothing about his expression changed. If anything, he looked even more certain—which only fueled her irritation.
Before she could move away, Alexander slid his arm around her shoulders, drawing her firmly against his side.
“Now,” he said calmly, already turning her body and steering her forward, “tell me which one you want to choose to wear to our wedding.”
She shoved his shoulder, trying to break free from his hold. “I told you, I haven’t agreed to this yet.”
“Yes, I know,” he replied smoothly, tightening his arm to keep her beside him as he guided her toward the racks. “Now tell me—what dress do you want to wear to your wedding?”
She shot him a glare sharp enough to cut, her heels scraping against the floor as he tugged her along again. Her jaw set in stubborn defiance, but he didn’t slow or look back.
By the time they stepped out of the wedding store, the assistant trailed behind them, struggling slightly under the weight of four large bags filled with wedding dresses. At the entrance, she carefully set them down on the table near the door.
“These dresses will be delivered to your home within the week, Mr. and Mrs. Graves,” the assistant said brightly, placing them neatly in place.
Mia crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her steps stiff as they walked toward the car. Her lips pressed into a thin line, every inch of her body radiating displeasure.
When they reached the limo, she abruptly stopped. Instead of getting inside, she turned on her heel and walked in the opposite direction.
Alexander reacted immediately. He followed in two long strides and caught her by the shoulder, his hand firm.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Home,” she said flatly, shrugging his hand off. “I’m not staying at your place. We’re not reconciled. I’m going back to my apartment.”
She didn’t get another word out.
Alexander bent down without hesitation, scooped her up effortlessly, and lifted her into his arms. Her feet left the ground as he turned and carried her straight back toward the limo, his grip secure and unyielding.
“Mr. Graves!” she snapped, her hands bracing against his chest,
He ignored her completely, setting her down inside the limo before climbing in after her. Instead of sitting properly, he stretched out along the seat, turning sideways and dropping his head into her lap. One leg bent casually on the seat, the other hanging off the edge.
Closing his eyes, he muttered, voice low and rough, “I’m exhausted. I worked all night for you. Don’t disturb me.”
Mia stared down at him, stunned.
“Get up,” she said, planting her palm against his shoulder and giving him a push. “Stop acting like a child. What is wrong with you?”
Alexander didn’t budge.
Not even an inch.
His weight remained there, his head resting comfortably against her thighs. She scowled, irritation rising in her chest—until she felt it. The slow, steady rhythm of his breathing beneath her hand.
She hesitated, then looked down at his face.
The usual tension etched into his features was gone. His brows were relaxed, his jaw unclenched, his expression almost… peaceful. Vulnerable, in a way she rarely ever saw.
Without thinking, her fingers lifted. She brushed them lightly over his cheek, tracing the line of his skin in slow, absent strokes. Her touch lingered longer than she meant it to.
With a quiet sigh, she leaned back against the seat, her shoulders easing as her head tilted to the side. The soft hum of the moving car wrapped around her, steady and soothing.
Within moments, sleep claimed her.
Sometime later, Alexander shifted. Carefully, his arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer to him inch by inch. He buried his face against her stomach, inhaling deeply.
Mia stirred faintly, her fingers twitching against his hair, but she didn’t wake.
Alexander opened his eyes and realized she was asleep.
A small smile curved his lips. Slowly, he lifted his head from her lap and adjusted his position. One arm slipped behind her neck, drawing her closer to his chest, while his other hand wrapped securely around her waist, holding her.
A few minutes later, the car finally slowed to a stop.
There was a soft knock before the limo door opened. Allen stood outside.
Alexander lifted a finger in a silent warning. Allen nodded at once.
Without waking her, Alexander leaned down, scooped Mia gently into his arms, and carried her inside, his hold careful and protective as he brought her back into the house.
***
Alexander paced his room, long strides carrying him from one end to the other. His fingers curled around his phone, his thumb tapping the screen as he dialed Mia’s number again.
No answer.
His jaw locked. He exhaled sharply through his nose and immediately called Allen.
“Where is Mia?” he demanded. His free hand dragged through his hair. “Did you check on her? Has she left the office yet?”
“Yes, Mr. Graves,” Allen replied quickly.
“I went to pick up Mrs. Graves, but she said she came to the office in another car this morning. She planned to drive back in the same car. I followed her vehicle, but traffic thickened. She sped up, and I lost sight of it. I’m trying to locate her car now. ”
A tight, suffocating pressure closed around Alexander’s chest. A deep sense of unease settled over him.
“Send me the location,” he said curtly.
He didn’t wait for a reply.
Alexander grabbed his keys and strode out of the house, his steps sharp and hurried. The front door slammed behind him as he slid into his car and started the engine. Tires screeched as he pulled out, speeding down the driveway without a second glance.
Moments later, Allen sent the coordinates—the last known location where Mia’s car had been spotted.
Alexander’s eyes flicked to the screen, then back to the road. He pressed harder on the accelerator, the engine roaring in response. He dialed Mia again. And again.
The phone rang endlessly.
His grip tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening as his eyes swept the road ahead, searching every lane, every passing vehicle.
Then something clicked.
She wouldn’t be heading home.
Without slowing, he twisted the steering wheel and veered onto a quieter highway—the route matching the last traffic sighting. It stretched ahead, dark and nearly empty.
And then he saw it.
A red car.
His heart slammed violently against his ribs as recognition hit.
“Mia…” His voice broke.
He floored the accelerator.
The engine growled as his car surged forward. The distance between them shrank rapidly, his pulse thundering in his ears. Wind rushed past as he rolled down his window, leaning halfway out.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he shouted, his voice slicing through the night. “Slow down! You’re going to get yourself killed!”
Mia kept her eyes fixed on the road, but she turned her head just enough for him to see her face through the window—pale, stricken, terror etched into every line.
“Mr. Graves,” she called back, her voice trembling. “The brakes—they aren’t working. I tried so many times, but the speed keeps increasing. What should I do?”
Her hands were locked around the steering wheel, fingers rigid, as if letting go would send her spiraling out of control.
Alexander’s chest seized with panic.
“Don’t panic,” he shouted, though his own heart felt like it was tearing itself apart. He fumbled for his phone, nearly dropping it as he called her again.
This time, she picked up.
“Put it on speaker,” he ordered, his voice tight but steady.
She did.
“Listen to me,” he said sharply, forcing his voice to stay steady even as his chest heaved. One hand gripped the steering wheel, the other clenched around his phone. “I’m going to drive ahead. There’s a turn up the road. I’ll be there.”
Through the speaker, she could hear his uneven breathing, each inhale too fast, too tight.
“I need you to drive your car against the side of mine, okay?” he continued, eyes locked on the road as he accelerated. “It’ll damage your car. Mine will hit the wall. But you’ll be safe. The car will stop.”
“No!” Mia cried, her head shaking violently. Tears streamed down her face, blurring the road ahead. “Mr. Graves, I’m not going to crash into you!”
“You have to listen to me right now,” Alexander snapped, knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip. “There’s nothing else we can do. Emergency services won’t reach us in time—this is a highway. This is our only chance.”
She shook her head harder, sobs breaking out of her. Her hands trembled as she fought to keep the wheel straight.
“Please—don’t do this—”
“Mia.” His voice broke, just for a heartbeat. “I need you to trust me.” He swallowed hard. “Do exactly what I tell you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Ahead, the split in the road came into view.
Alexander surged forward, the engine roaring as he positioned his car precisely where it needed to be, aligning himself with her lane. His pulse thundered in his ears.
Her speed kept climbing.
“I can’t stop!” she screamed, her foot slamming uselessly against the brake.
“I know,” he said, voice tight but unwavering. “That’s why you’re going to hit me.”
Mia’s car lurched wildly. No matter how many times she pumped the brakes, the speed refused to drop. The road rushed toward her in a blur of lights and shadows.
“I don’t want to hurt you!” she cried, sobbing openly now. “Please don’t get in my way!”
“Do it!” Alexander shouted. “Don’t argue with me right now—we don’t have time!”
Panic swallowed her whole.
At the last second, instead of steering into him, she jerked the wheel toward the edge of the road, trying to slip past without touching his car.
Alexander saw it—the hesitation, the terror flickering across her face.
Without a second thought, he wrenched his steering wheel back into her path.
The collision exploded through the night.
Metal screamed as the cars slammed together. Alexander’s vehicle spun sideways, crashing into the barrier with a violent jolt. Sparks sprayed across the asphalt, tires shrieking as rubber burned against the road.
Mia’s car slammed into his, wedging tight. The force finally killed its momentum.
A horn blared wildly—then cut off.
Silence followed.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Mia struggled to keep her eyes open as the world tilted. Pain bloomed through her body, sharp and spreading. With trembling effort, she turned her head toward Alexander’s car.
There was no movement.
No sound.
Her heart dropped into pure, icy terror.
“Alexander…” she whispered, her voice barely more than breath.
The night swallowed her words whole.
***
It was six hours later when Mia’s eyes finally fluttered open.
White walls greeted her. White. Clean. The silence pressed in, broken only by the faint hum of machines somewhere nearby. The air was cold, seeping through the thin hospital gown clinging to her skin.
She blinked again.
Hospital.
Her chest tightened as muffled voices drifted in from the corridor. Turning her head, she saw Hazel standing near the door, one hand covering her mouth as she spoke in a hushed voice into her phone.
Mia pushed herself upright instantly.
Pain flared at the sudden movement, but memories of the accident slammed into her all at once—metal tearing, speed spiraling out of control, Alexander’s voice shouting through the phone.
Her breath hitched. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, feet touching the cold floor as she tried to stand.
The sound drew Hazel’s attention. She spun around, eyes widening. She hung up immediately and rushed toward her.
“Mia, what the hell are you doing?” Hazel cried, reaching for her. “Don’t move—you have a head injury!”
But Mia barely heard her.
“Where’s Alexander?” she demanded, her eyes darting around the room.
It was a private room. Just one bed.
“He’s fine,” Hazel said quickly, panic creeping into her voice. “Look at yourself—you’re injured. Don’t you feel the pain?”
Mia shook her head, already pushing herself upright again. “I’m fine,” she insisted, even as a sharp ache pulsed behind her eyes and her knee buckled in protest.
Hazel grabbed her shoulders and pressed her gently but firmly back onto the bed.
“Stop making this harder,” Hazel said, her voice tight with worry. “I’ll get a wheelchair, and then you can go see him.”
Before Mia could argue, sharp, heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor.
Magnus walked in, his stride rigid, his expression dark. The moment his eyes landed on Mia, his jaw tightened.
“You need to go see Alexander right now,” he said flatly. “He’s causing trouble.”
Hazel frowned. “She’s injured—”
Magnus cut her off, his anger snapping straight at Mia.
“He put his life on the line for you!” he snapped.
“I know he upset you, but the least you can do is go see him. He has a deep gash in his leg, injured all over, and yet that madman is demanding to be discharged right now. He shouldn’t even be standing! ”
Mia shoved Hazel’s hands away and stood again.
Pain shot up her leg, stars bursting behind her eyes, but she ignored it. Fear drowned everything else.
Hazel gasped. “Mia—!”
But Mia was already moving, following Magnus out of the room, her steps uneven but quick. Her fingers brushed the wall for balance as she hurried down the corridor.