Page 23 of Surrendering to the Obsession

“Mia?” he called out.

Mia’s head turned immediately, her body stiffening.

Alexander was standing across the pool, his tall figure framed by the sunlight pouring through the glass doors. His gaze was fixed on her.

“Mom’s asking for your help choosing the jewelry for tomorrow’s party.”

Mia straightened instantly and hurried toward him, her steps quick. She barely got close when Alexander reached out, his hand catching her wrist. In one smooth, practiced motion, he pulled her into him—her body colliding softly with his chest. His hand settled at her lower back.

His eyes flicked briefly toward Harold, the corners of his mouth tightening into a faint, disdainful line.

Then, without a word, he turned back to Mia and guided her into the house, his arm still resting possessively at her back.

***

The atmosphere at lunch was tense—thick enough to feel. The faint clinking of cutlery was the only sound breaking the silence.

Harold’s gaze followed Alexander’s every move. Every flick of his wrist, every glance toward Mia. His jaw flexed, barely hidden beneath his polite expression.

Meanwhile, Mia sat next to Alexander, her posture upright but cautious. She watched him quietly as he reached for the serving dishes. He spooned plain white rice, boiled vegetables, and chicken onto her plate. Everything bland. She frowned as she stared down at the plate, then up at him.

A dish of spicy chili prawns sat temptingly close. The rich aroma filled the air, and a hint of steam curled upward from the glossy red sauce. At once, she reached for it.

But before she could grab the serving spoon, Alexander’s hand moved. His palm wrapped around her hand, halting her mid-motion.

Her breath caught as her eyes flicked up to him.

He didn’t let go. Instead, he guided her hand gently away, keeping her hand captured in his. His thumb rested lightly against her knuckles.

“Don’t eat spicy food,” he said quietly. “It’ll hurt you again at night, just like yesterday.”

Mia’s lips pressed together in displeasure, her shoulders stiffening slightly. Still, she didn’t argue. She accepted the plate he slid to her, her eyes following him discreetly as she picked up a spoon to start eating.

Across the table, Harold’s expression tightened with visible annoyance as he looked at Alexander.

He leaned back in his chair, his fork spinning between his fingers before he said lazily, “If Mia doesn’t like something, why are you forcing yourself on her?”

Alexander’s eyes flickered to Harold—cold and dark, the kind of look that silenced a room.

It was very obvious from Harold’s tone that he wasn’t talking about Mia not liking the dish.

Mia, oblivious to the undertone, looked at Alexander and immediately nodded her head in agreement with Harold.

Alexander’s eyes shifted back to her. The tension in his jaw eased as he reached out, brushing his thumb across her cheek—lightly, almost tenderly. His voice was calm, but it carried quiet dominance as he responded to Harold. “Don’t worry about it. This is my wife and my private matter.”

Harold’s lips pressed into a thin, hard line. His hand clenched around his fork, stabbing it into his salad with a bit too much force.

Camila, who had been watching the exchange with amused curiosity, broke the tension with a bright tone.

“So, Harold,” she said, smiling, “Who is that girl you like? Where did you meet her?”

Alexander, swirling his hot soup quietly to cool it down, added, with pointed casualness, “Yeah, tell me. I’ll help you.” He set down his spoon and slid the bowl toward Mia, his eyes lifting coldly back to Harold.

Harold exhaled harshly, trying to regain his composure. “She’s stuck somewhere right now. I’m going to wait until she’s out of trouble before I propose.”

Alexander leaned back in his chair, displeasure tightening his jaw. “Trouble? What kind of trouble?” he asked, eyes narrowing at Harold.

Harold, confident now, answered without hesitation. “She’s being harassed by some rich guy who thinks he owns her.”