Page 15 of Surrendering to the Obsession

Blink.

Then she released the slowest exhale known to mankind. “So you’re just crushing on a woman.”

Harold immediately choked on nothing, laughing awkwardly. “W-well… crushes turn into relationships, right? I mean—every love story starts somewhere. Mine is just… starting with admiration. Deep admiration. From a respectful distance.”

Hazel raised an eyebrow. “So basically, you like her, and she has no idea you exist.”

Harold slapped a hand on his chest, scandalized. “Shedefinitelyknows I exist. I’m unforgettable.”

Hazel didn’t even blink this time. “You’re loud. That’s not the same thing.”

Mia covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.

And in the middle of Harold’s wounded groaning, none of them noticed Alexander entering the restaurant with Allen beside him.

Allen glanced at his watch. “Mr. Graves, Mr. Silva must already be in the private room. I’ll call to confirm.”

He reached for his phone, casually scanning the restaurant—then froze so hard it looked like someone pressed a pause button on him.

His eyes widened. “M-Mr. Graves… isn’t that Mrs. Graves over there?”

Alexander stopped mid-step.

His shoulders rolled back, tension forming. He turned his head, following Allen’s line of sight.

His gaze locked onto Mia immediately. She was sitting across from a man, smiling, relaxed,laughing.

His jaw tightened. His expression didn’t crack—but something sharp flickered behind his eyes.

He turned away as if forcing himself to ignore it, walking toward the private meeting room. Allen exhaled in relief and followed—only to stumble when Alexander suddenly stopped again. It was as if something yanked him backward. Without a word, Alexander spun on his heel and strode straight toward Mia this time.

Allen halted, stunned. “M-Mr. Graves—your meeting. Mr. Silva is already waiting!” His voice rose, a little panicked, but Alexander didn’t respond.

His strides were quick, almost aggressive.

At the table, Mia was laughing. Head slightly tilted back, eyes bright. Harold leaned closer, watching her with unmistakable admiration.

Alexander came to a stop right behind Mia.

His hands rested on the back of the couch where she sat, fingers curling slightly into the fabric. He leaned down, close enough that his presence pressed against her space—warm breath, clean cologne, a shadow falling over her shoulder.

Mia was still talking, unaware.

“It was actually really fun. I mean, I’ve never seen anything like that. Shirtless men serving drinks? I didn’t even know Manhattan had something like that! I only ever saw those places on Instag—”

Then a voice slid in, low and unhurried, right beside her ear.

“Was it really that fun, Miss Bennett?”

Mia jolted.

Her spine straightened instantly, almost like someone had pulled a string. She didn’t even need to turn. She knew that voice too well.

“It was—actually—not that interesting,” she corrected herself quickly, her tone switching in a heartbeat. “I really wasn’t having that much fun. Honestly, it was kind of boring.”

Hazel, still oblivious, leaned forward with innocent curiosity. “But how were the models? Did you touch any of them?”

Mia froze.