The Heir And The Servent Started From A Bet novel Chapter 135

Chapter 135

Being at Casa in the afternoon felt strange…

The place was quiet, far too quiet.

There was no buzz of music or laughter, just the low sound of footsteps and the occasional scrape of chairs being dragged across the floor as the few workers present prepared for the night.

Alex walked toward the entrance, his stomach tied in knots.

Maybe this was all a prank. A stupid, cruel prank Mia was playing. Maybe she’d come out now, laugh, and say, “You should’ve seen your face.”

God, how he wished that were true. He knows that’s not true. Something tells him something was really wrong.

He walked past the empty chairs and quiet bar, looking around, searching for a familiar face. He didn’t even know who he was looking for exactly-just someone who could make sense of everything burning in his chest.

A waitress-young, barely twenty-approached him cautiously.

“What can we get you, sir?” she asked politely, trying to smile.

Alex looked straight at her. “Where’s Mia Turner?”

The girl blinked, caught off guard. “She’s not here, sir.”

“I know she’s not here,” he said, more like he was telling himself for hoping. “Where is your manager?”

She hesitated. “He’s inside.”

“Tell him Alex Blackwell want to see him”

“Sir 1-”

“Are you deaf?”

The girl jumped a little at the tone and quickly turned, hurrying toward the back office.

Alex exhaled harshly and sat down at the nearest table, his knee bouncing. His eyes flicked toward the bar, the floor, the door. Nothing gave him answers.

Everything inside him was screaming. One part of him still hoped that any second now, Mia would walk out from behind that counter, grinning, telling him he worried too much.

But that part was growing smaller with every second.

He leaned forward, pressing his hands together in front of his face.

What if she really left?

What if she chose to leave and didn’t think he deserved to know?

What if everything they had meant nothing to her?

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Chapter 135

He shook his head.

No.

That wasn’t Mia.

She wasn’t the kind of person.

They had something, something so real.

She can’t do that to them.. Not after the nights they shared. Not after the way she’d held him and whispered that she loved him like he was her home.

So something had to have happened.

He needed to know whether she had walked away or if he has to get the police involved.

The door creaked open. The manager-middle-aged, short, with black hair-walked out, wiping his hands on a towel.

His eyes widened slightly when he saw who was waiting. Maybe it was the shock of seeing Alex Blackwell standing in the middle of his restaurant in broad daylight, eyes stormy, posture stiff like he was ready to tear the place apart.

Or maybe it was the name he was about to say.

“Hello sir, wel-”

“Where is Mia Turner?” Alex cut in, his voice cold, sharp, and shaking just beneath the surface.

The man looked startled. “Oh… uhm… Mia tabled in her resignation letter.”

Everything stopped.

The air shifted.

Alex felt it, like something cracked open inside him and let everything else flood out. He blinked slowly, as if the world around him had started spinning, and his body hadn’t caught up with the motion yet.

His heart thudded once.

Then again. Louder.

Resignation.

The word kept echoing inside his head. Louder and louder, until it was the only thing he could hear.

She resigned?

“When did she submit the letter?” His voice barely made it past the lump rising in his throat.

“Two days ago,” the manager answered, eyes wary.

Two days?

Two. Fucking. Days?

Alex didn’t say anything else. ‘He didn’t trust himself not to crash out right there.

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Chapter 135

He turned around like he was sleepwalking and left the restaurant.

He didn’t remember walking to his car. Didn’t remember opening the door or sitting inside. But somehow, here he was– slumped against the seat, head leaning on the steering wheel, staring at the dashboard like it would tell him something he didn’t already know.

Had it been hours?

Minutes?

Time was a blur. His hands were cold on the steering wheel. His chest felt too tight, like it couldn’t stretch wide enough to take in the pain.

His throat burned.

His ears rang.

He didn’t cry, But he wasn’t far from it. The sting sat right behind his eyes, daring him to break.

She resigned?

She left?

Without a word?

Without telling him?

And suddenly, everything hit all at once.

She really left.

She really walked away from him.

And the more he thought about it, the more that sharp edge inside him grew. Twisting. Slicing through the soft, hopeful parts of him.

Mia Turner played him.

She fucking played him.

A bitter, ugly laugh escaped his throat. He slammed his head back against the seat.

“Of course,” he whispered.

Of course she did.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to hit something. Break something.

Mia had him wrapped around her finger, and he didn’t even realize it.

She made him believe she loved him. That they were in it together. That they were building something. And like a fool, he believed every word, every kiss, every look in her eyes.

He let his guard down.

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Chapter 135

He gave her everything.

And she walked away.

Alex’s hands curled into fists. His jaw locked. His heart was breaking into pieces, and the worst part was, he still wanted to believe something bad happened to her.

Mia couldn’t just do this? Just like that?

He had told himself over and over again that Mia was different. She wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t like her family. She had a good heart, a kind spirit. She was quiet, grounded. Real.

Why would Mia want to hurt him? Revenge?

Yes he treated her like shit in the beginning, he regrets every of his actions with his life.

He still hates himself for that.

But he changed.

He apologized.

He worked for her love. He tried to earn it, prove himself worthy of it. And she made him believe she forgave him.

But now?

Now he didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“Was it revenge?” he whispered. His voice broke in the middle.

Was that what this was all about? Did she string him along just to pay him back for everything he did to her?

It made sense. Too much sense.

He leaned his head against the steering wheel again and let out a long, pained sigh.

“Fuck…” he whispered. “Fuck…”

The memory of her face kept flashing in his mind.

The way her lips trembled when she cried. The way she laughed when she was comfortable. The soft “I love you” she had whispered just nights ago.

Were all of those fake?

The whimpers she made when he touched her, the way her body melted into his-were those lies too?

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