“Shit,” Emma hissed, ending the call in a rush. She turned to Sophia, panic written all over her face. “This damn brother of mine—he’s really going to punish me if he finds out I drank again. I’ve been going home drunk for the past five days. He’s going to kill me this time.” She already started backing away. “I’m running away first. Go home safe, okay?”
Sophia waved her off lazily, already half-dazed.
Emma didn’t wait another second. She spun around and bolted down the hallway, heels clicking rapidly as she disappeared before Elias could spot her.
Sophia blinked, her vision swimming.
The alcohol finally hit her full force. Her head felt heavy, dizzy. She leaned back against the cold wall, closing her eyes briefly as the chill seeped into her skin. It felt good.
She tried to push herself forward to walk, but her legs felt unsteady.
Just then, a door nearby opened.
Magnus stepped out.
He watched as she stumbled, her body unsteady, her hand sliding along the wall for support. Before she could move farther, he reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Look at yourself,” he said sharply. “You’re so damn drunk.”
Sophia groaned and tried to yank her arm free, blinking up at him. The moment she realized it was Magnus, she struggled harder, pushing against his chest.
“Let go—”
Instead, his grip tightened.
He slammed her against the wall, caging her in. One hand pinned her wrist while the other lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.
His eyes burned into hers, dark and demanding.
“Are you really going to keep fighting me?”
“Yes,” she said stubbornly, trying to push him away.
Magnus let out a frustrated breath, his eyes narrowing, but then he bent down and slung her over his shoulder.
She flailed, slapping his back.
“Put me down!” she slurred, her words thick from alcohol.
“I can’t. My mom will be upset if I leave you like this,” he said in a low, controlled voice, carrying her out of the bar.
An hour later, they arrived at Magnus’s house. The night was quiet, the maids already gone to their rooms.
Magnus carried her through the quiet halls, up the stairs, and into the bedroom before heading straight for the bathroom. Then, under the shower, he set her down carefully.
“Take a bath,” he said calmly. “I’ll bring you clothes to change into.”
With that, he turned to leave.
Suddenly, a sudden shower of cold water drenched him from head to toe.
“What the—?” he barked, spinning around to see Sophia, giggling drunkenly, her hand still on the shower handle, letting water rain down.
Sophia grinned up at him, eyes mischievous, still flushed from the alcohol.
“Sophia King!” he roared, his voice thick with anger. “You are really making this difficult.”
Sophia stumbled forward, suddenly closing the distance between them. Her arms slid up and around his neck, fingers hooking there as she rose unsteadily onto her tiptoes.
