Secretly looking for Sophia.
But there was no sign of her.
He walked into the kitchen, glancing around as he moved, his eyes flicking instinctively toward the counter, the doorway, the breakfast table. He headed straight for the fridge and pulledout a bottle of water. As he shut the door, his eyes lifted again, scanning the room for Sophia.
Still no sign of her.
His fingers tightened around the bottle, the plastic crinkling slightly under his grip. His jaw clenched, his face darkening into a frown.
‘Where the hell did she go?’ Restlessness crept under his skin.
The maids in the kitchen froze for a split second at Magnus’s sudden presence, exchanging quick, startled looks.
He placed the bottle back on the counter without taking a single sip. As he straightened, his expression hard and impatient, the maids immediately turned away, pretending they hadn’t noticed him at all.
He searched the house again—down the hallway, past the stairs, then stepped into the garden.
Nothing.
Sophia was nowhere to be found.
The longer he looked, the heavier the irritation settled in his chest, tightening with every passing second. Since they had gotten married, this was the first time he hadn’t seen her since he woke up.
By the time he returned to the living room, the impatience was written plainly across his face. His jaw was clenched tight, tension pulsing visibly beneath his skin.
Turning around, he strode back inside.
Camila was seated comfortably on the couch in the living room, legs crossed, sipping her tea while flipping through a magazine.
Magnus strode toward her at once. “Mom,” he said, his voice tight, controlled. “Have you seen Sophia?”
Camila lifted her gaze from the magazine.
“She went to work,” she replied. “Didn’t she tell you before leaving?”
The nerve on his forehead twitched slightly.
That alone was answer enough for Camila.
The displeasure on his face was clear as day. His teeth clenched hard as he turned abruptly and stormed out of the house again, his steps heavy as he headed back into the garden. His hand went to the belt at his waist, fingers hooking into the leather as he tilted his head up, the sunlight cutting across his face.
“Sophia Graves,” he muttered under his breath, a hard edge creeping into his voice. “I was sleeping right next to you. And you didn’t even bother to say a word before leaving?!”
He let out a harsh breath, turning his face away, the openness around him doing nothing but feeding the tension coiled in his chest.
She had left the house without a word, and for some reason, it sat wrong with him far more than it should have.
It wasn’t as if she had disappeared forever. It shouldn’t matter. She had only gone to work.
And yet…
Frustrated by his own thoughts, he turned back toward the house. He went inside and headed straight for the stairs to grab his things and leave for work.
Just as his foot landed on the first step, Camila’s voice stopped him.
“Magnus?”
He froze mid-step and turned toward her.
