Chapter 7 He Wants to Firmly Grasp it in His Hands
The man’s suppressed anger made Mia take a step back slightly, but a smile appeared on her face, “Mr. Smith can’t be so
narrow-minded that you don’t even want to celebrate Sir Smith’s birthday, can you?”
Joe let out a sarcastic laugh, “What, the White family sent you here, right? Have they squandered their money again and want to resort to old tricks, sending you to beg for more?”
These years the White family had already declined, desperately seeking to reestablish connections with the Smith family, but Joe had never agreed.
Hearing what he said, how could Mia not guess what he was thinking?
Her face immediately turned gloomy, “I have no ties with the White family anymore. You don’t have to worry about getting involved with me again.”
She indifferently swirled her wine gla*s, turning to leave.
But suddenly, a strong hand grabbed her wrist, muffling her scream before it escaped, and he dragged her to a secluded corridor.
Mia was so frightened that she didn’t even look at him. She reached out and slapped him.
But Joe, with a dark expression, firmly caught her hand mid-strike.
He effortlessly seized her hand, raising it above her head, his hot breath fanning her neck, “Sun House is not a place you can come and go as you please.”
Their position was undeniably intimate, yet Mia’s mind was filled only with anger, “Joe, we divorced five years ago. You had better behave yourself!”
“Well-behaved?” Joe’s eyes gleamed wickedly, “That’s not what you said when you drugged me five years ago.”
Mentioning the incident from five years ago, Mia’s face turned a shade paler, her beautiful eyes filled with a soft glimmer.
Joe’s gaze momentarily lost focus, his grip unintentionally tightening.
Since he took control of the Smith Group, both the family and the business had been firmly in his grasp without any variables.
The only variable was Mia.
He did not accept variables or enjoy them. So even if he despised Mia, he still wanted to keep her within his control.
Feeling the change in his eyes, Mia suddenly smiled, full of
allure.
“Mr. Smith, you claim to be immune to my wiles, yet your actions say otherwise.”
Her voice was soft, tingling his cars.
Joe’s expression darkened, and he forcefully pushed her away.
Mia quickly put distance between them, the mockery in her eyes turning to scorn, “Five years and you’ve become less of a gentleman, Mr. Smith.”
Seeing her change face so quickly, how could Joe not know that
all was an act?
He stood composed, his piercing gaze fixed on Mia, “What exactly do you want?”
Mia gently rubbed her wrist, now marked with red.
A fleeting shadow crossed her eyes, and her impatience with Joe grew, “If I were still the Mia of years past, perhaps I’d be trapped, but now…”
Her confident smile made Joe feel as if something was slipping from his control.
This feeling, which he despised most, was akin to hearing the news of his parents’ accident many years ago—the first time he’d ever lost control in life.
At this thought, Mia’s face became serious.
She straightened her dress, her dark eyes fixed on him, “This is the last time I’ll explain. Whether you believe me or not, I didn’t drug you that day.”
With that, she tossed her hair and left the corridor.
Looking at her slender back, Joe clenched his fists tightly.
Jack, who noticed that both his boss and Mia had disappeared, came rushing over. But seeing Mr. Smith standing darkly in the shadowy corridor, he instinctively swallowed hard.
Now was not the time to show up.
Before he could take a step away, Joe’s deep voice stopped him, “Look into the accounts of the housekeeper, Emma, at the villa from five years ago. Check if anyone else was in and out of the villa that day.”
