Chapter 19 Too Late #2
The words had barely left her lips when Alexander’s entire body snapped—rage, disbelief, and something primal exploding through him.
In one lightning-fast movement, he grabbed her waist, his other hand sliding to the back of her head as he yanked her toward him. Her feet nearly left the ground. He spun her and slammed her gently but urgently against the car, caging her with his body.
Before she could inhale, his mouth was on hers.
Not a kiss—an invasion. Possessive. Furious. Desperate.
His lips were hot, almost fevered, and the moment they touched hers, Mia felt the wet slide of his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth, tasting her, demanding her. The kiss was soaked in anger and longing, an intoxicating mix that made her knees weaken.
Her breath hitched as his tongue swept in, slow at first, then deeper, rougher, desperate.
He tasted like heat and something sharp, something masculine, and the faint scent of his cologne—clean, smoky, addictive—wrapped around her like a trap she couldn’t fight.
His hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back as his mouth devoured hers. His tongue stroked hers, slick and warm, pulling a tiny sound from her throat. He swallowed it instantly, his lips moving over hers with wet, unstoppable hunger.
When she tried to push him away, his grip tightened, and he kissed her harder— teeth grazing her lower lip, a sharp bite that made her gasp. He soothed the sting a heartbeat later, sucking gently, tasting every trembling breath she gave him.
The kiss grew wild. Messy. Breathless.
His breath mingled with hers, warm and uneven, and every time she inhaled, she caught the raw mix of his anger, fear, and desire.
By the time he tore his mouth from hers, her lips were swollen, damp, and trembling.
Both of them were breathing hard—his jaw tight, hers quivering, their foreheads almost touching as his breath brushed her mouth again, like he wasn’t done… not even close.
His voice was low, dark, and terrifyingly steady.
“Even if you die,” he whispered, eyes burning into hers, “your body will be buried with me.”
His thumb brushed her swollen lower lip, a dangerous caress.
“I am never letting you go.”
There wasn’t a trace of doubt or hesitation. He meant every word.
A shiver ran through her.
Mia shoved him away with all her strength. Her body trembled with anger, confusion, and fear. She ripped herself from his grip and ran inside without looking back once.
She went straight back to the room, changed out of her drenched clothes, and collapsed onto the bed. Her mind kept replaying the kiss… his words… his eyes… over and over again. The storm outside seemed to echo the storm inside her head.
Eventually, exhaustion dragged her into sleep.
***
Mia blinked groggily, her eyes fluttering open—only to find a tall figure standing beside her bed.
Her heart lurched violently, breath catching as the shock snapped her fully awake. She jerked upright at once, fingers curling into the blanket as panic rushed through her.
A stunning woman was standing next to the bed, arms crossed, glaring down at her. The woman pushed her cat-eye sunglasses up into her hair, revealing sharp, piercing eyes.
“What are you doing in my husband’s bed?”
Mia stared at her, stunned.
Husband?
What was happening?
Mia blinked, confused, still half-asleep. She looked around the room, then at the clock on the wall—it was already afternoon. She had slept straight through the entire morning without realizing it.
The woman’s eyes narrowed even more as she looked Mia up and down.
“And you’re wearing my clothes too. Who allowed you to touch my things?”
Just then, a maid hurried into the room. The moment she saw Mia, and then the angry woman beside her, panic spread across her face.
“M-Madam, this is—”
Before the maid could finish, the woman lifted her hand sharply.
The maid fell silent instantly.
Without even glancing at her, the woman said coldly, “Get out.”
The maid hesitated, glanced at Mia, then quietly stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
The woman didn’t look away from Mia for even a second. She took one slow step back, then another, before settling onto the couch with a graceful, practiced ease. Crossing her legs elegantly, she leaned back—her eyes still locked on Mia, her glare never breaking.
The woman didn’t move for a moment. Her piercing eyes stayed fixed on Mia as she slowly stepped back and sat down on the couch, crossing her legs elegantly. She looked expensive—perfect makeup, perfect hair, designer clothes, suitcase by the door, clearly just back from a trip.
With her arms folded across her chest, back straight, she stared at Mia and questioned coldly,
“You’re sleeping in my husband’s bed while I’m not home,” she said sharply. “And he has never brought another woman home—not when I’m here, not when I’m gone.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
“That only means one thing.”
She leaned forward slightly.
“You’re having an affair with him?”
Mia jerked at the accusation, shocked.
Before she could respond, the door opened.
Both Mia and the woman looked toward it.
Sawyer stepped into the room.
The woman turned away from Mia and faced him. Her voice was cold, clipped, and full of finality.
“I want a divorce. I won’t live with a cheater.”
The transformation in Sawyer was instant.
The cold, composed man Mia had seen till now completely fell apart. His eyes went wide, his face drained of color—he looked like someone had ripped his soul out of his body.
“What the hell, Ellie? I’m not cheating on you! Why would you even bring up divorce?!”
“It’s final.” Ellie closed her eyes, her voice steady and decisive. “My suitcase is packed. I’m leaving right now. Send me my share of the property—otherwise, I’ll take it myself.”
She turned sharply to go, but Sawyer’s hand shot out. He grabbed her arm and yanked her back, pulling her to face him before she could take another step.
“I told you I’m not cheating on you!” he repeated desperately.
Ellie rolled her eyes dramatically and glared at him with open suspicion.
Meanwhile—
Mia burst out laughing.
She couldn’t help it.
Sawyer—who always acted like a dangerous, powerful badass—now looked like a panicked little boy about to faint because his crush told him she didn’t want him. His expression looked like he was seconds away from fainting.
It was so ridiculous she couldn’t hold the laughter in.
Ellie snapped her head toward Mia, her eyes icy. “I’m not interested in this man anymore. I’ll divorce him and take half of his property. You can keep him.”
“Jesus Christ,” Sawyer snapped, finally losing his patience. In one swift move, he grabbed Ellie’s arm, spun her around, and scooped her up bridal-style.
Ellie went wild instantly—kicking, squirming, smacking his shoulder as if she were fighting for her life.
“Let go of me!” she shouted. “I go out of the country for three days and you bring a girl home behind my back?! Sawyer Stark, I swear to God, I’m going to marry your sister in two days and haunt you for the rest of your life! I’ll kiss her in front of you and spend my wedding night in your bed!”
Sawyer didn’t even flinch. Her flailing arms hit nothing but solid muscle as he tightened his grip, carrying her like she weighed nothing.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, unfazed, dodging her attempts to smack his shoulders as he marched toward the bed.
Instead of placing her down gently, he sat on the bed with her still in his arms, locking her firmly on his lap as she continued to wiggle like an angry cat.
Sawyer lifted his free hand—the other arm still locked tightly around Ellie’s waist to keep her from escaping—and pointed straight at Mia.
“That’s my sister!”
Ellie froze mid-struggle. She slowly turned her head, staring at Sawyer… then at Mia… then back at Sawyer.
“You’re such a liar,” she snapped. “You do not have two sisters. I’ve known you since you were running around in Spiderman underwear. I know your entire family tree. Where did this new ‘sister’ sprout from?”
“My cousin,” Sawyer corrected instantly. “Mom finally found her long-lost sister. Mia’s her daughter.”
Ellie’s expression shifted so fast it was almost comical.
The anger softened. Her eyes warmed. Her mouth fell open in surprise before curling into a bright, dazzling smile—as if she hadn’t just threatened to marry Sawyer’s sister two minutes ago.
She turned to Mia sweetly.
“Oh! Hi! I’m his wife, Ellie. Nice to meet you.”
Mia blinked, taken aback by the sudden transformation. But Ellie’s smile was so radiant and harmless that Mia couldn’t help smiling back.
“Hi,” she replied shyly, returning the smile.
***
“So… after that night, when you looked out the window the next day, he wasn’t there anymore?” Hazel asked. She walked beside Mia, their arms brushing as they moved down the busy street, both of them carrying shopping bags.
Mia shook her head, her fingers tightening around the handles. “No. Thankfully. He stood there all night… in the rain. I don’t know if he got sick.” Worry trembled in her voice as she spoke. “When I woke up in the afternoon and looked for him, he was gone.”
“Oh, he should be fine! A little rain isn’t gonna kill him,” Hazel chided lightly. Then she frowned. “So you’re not living with Alexander now?”
“No,” Mia answered. “I stayed at Sawyer’s house for two weeks… and then I moved out. I rented an apartment. I’m living there now.”
Hazel’s steps slowed. Her voice softened. “That must’ve been terrifying for you.” She hesitated. “Did you ever find out why—or how—he even got those photos?”
Mia’s throat tightened. “I don’t know. And honestly…
right now, I don’t want to know.” Her voice wavered.
“I married him, and he never once told me he knew me before. But he clearly did. Just thinking about it makes me angry. I can’t trust him anymore.
” She sighed, looking defeated. “I even stopped going to work because I’m scared of running into him. I just… don’t want to deal with him.”
Hazel nodded, sympathetic—until her eyes dropped to the shopping bags dangling from Mia’s hands.
Max Mall. Printed in bold, shiny gold letters.
Hazel blinked.
“Hold on.” She pointed at the bags. “If you don’t want to see him or talk to him… then why are you buying all this with his card? Weren’t you trying to distance him completely?”
Mia blinked at her, wide-eyed and clueless. “Because I don’t want to hurt his business.”
Hazel froze. “…I’m sorry, what?”
Mia nodded earnestly. “I know that everything is not good between him and me right now, but I cannot harm him or his business.” She let out a slow breath.
“He asked me to do this favor… to keep buying at least fifty things a day from Max Mall to help him. In exchange, he let me stay at his home when I had nowhere to go. I don’t want to harm his business.
He did help me when I was in trouble… so I have to repay the favor. ”
Silence
Hazel stared at her, stunned. A deep frown pulled between her brows, a mix of appalled disbelief and confusion tightening her expression.
Before Hazel could say another word, Mia adjusted her bags like a hardworking ant carrying groceries and wandered toward the restaurant across the street, completely unbothered.
Hazel stared after her, blinking.
“…Fifty things a day,” she muttered. “I should marry Alexander’s brother.”
With a sigh, she hurried after Mia before she disappeared into traffic.
By the time Hazel caught up, Mia was already pushing the restaurant door open. Hazel followed her in.
The restaurant was quiet when they entered—only a few scattered customers and the soft clinking of cutlery. They found a table near the window and sat down. But within minutes, people began pouring in. The peaceful room transformed into a busy crowd, conversations rising, chairs scraping.
By the time their coffees arrived, the entire place was packed.
Hazel took a sip of her macchiato. “Why don’t you talk to Alexander about those photographs? “Did he never mention to you that he knew you from before?”
“No,” Mia replied, brows knitting together. “He only told me that the day we met, I fainted in front of his car and he brought me home.”
She put her juice down, shoulders stiffening. “I have no idea where those photos came from. And the more I think about it, the more uncomfortable I feel.”
She leaned in, voice low and troubled. “He shouldn’t have those photos, Hazel.
And if he already knew me… why pretend he didn’t?
Why lie?” Her hands curled around her napkin until it wrinkled.
“The only connection between us is James being in the same business. Now that I think about it… I keep wondering—was Alexander after James? Was I dragged into something without knowing?”
Hazel stared at her. “That… really doesn’t add up.”
Mia exhaled shakily, rubbing her forehead with tired fingers. “I don’t care about the rest,” she whispered. “What hurts is the lie. He told me that the night of my accident was the first time he ever saw me.”
Her fists tightened on the table. “I left James because I realized being with him was a mistake… and then I married Mr. Graves. I thought he was the right one because he treated me well.”
Her voice broke. “And then I find out he married me with lies. How do I trust him now?”
Hazel immediately reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m here. Just… breathe. Decide what you want, okay?”
Mia managed a soft, grateful smile.
After they finished their drinks, they stood up and left the restaurant, the door closing behind them with a soft chime.
Minutes later, the door swung open again—this time with a force that made it thud against the stopper.
Alexander stepped in.
Silence rippled across the room immediately.
Allen entered behind him, taking his place at Alexander’s side. The waiter who had served Mia earlier rushed forward nervously.
Alexander’s gaze flicked to Allen. “Did you take care of her?”
“Of course, Mr. Graves,” Allen replied, his tone steady. Then, he glanced around the room.
In the next moment, every person in the restaurant rose to their feet. The scrape of chairs and clatter of utensils echoed sharply as the staff and diners greeted him in unison:
“Good evening, Mr. Graves.”
Alexander didn’t respond. His eyes fell on the now-empty table where Mia had been sitting. Her half-finished juice still sat there.
He took a measured sip from the glass, letting it linger on his lips. Then he turned, one hand tucked into his pocket, eyes sweeping the room. His voice finally sliced through the tense silence.
“Now… tell me—what did my wife talk about?”