Outside, the night air was cool.
Magnus opened the passenger door and carefully placed Sophia inside as if she were made of glass. His hand supported her head, his other arm steady at her back, making sure she was comfortable.
Only after he was certain she was settled did he pull the seatbelt across her body and fasten it. Then he closed the door.
He walked around the car, his long strides quick, jaw tight, eyes dark. The moment he slid into the driver’s seat, the engine roared to life.
The car shot forward.
Within seconds, it disappeared into the night.
Across the city, Celia sat in her parked car along a crowded street, her eyes fixed on her phone. The harsh glow of the video call flickered across her face.
She watched Joseph and Violet being beaten, dragged, humiliated. When Violet collapsed, sobbing and begging like a madwoman, Celia’s expression twisted with fury.
Her fingers tightened around the phone so hard her knuckles turned white.
“What the hell is wrong with that woman?!” she snapped, her voice sharp with rage. “I told her to do one simple thing, and she still ruined it.”
Her chest rose and fell quickly, anger boiling over.
“Now I have to clean up this disaster.”
***
Magnus carried Sophia inside the mansion, his steps fast and hard against the marble floor as he shoved through the doors. Each stride echoed. His jaw was locked so tight a muscle ticked near his temple, and his breath came rough, almost shaking. His arms were iron around her, holding her close to his chest.
He didn’t slow down when he reached the stairs. He took them quickly, shoulders rigid, eyes dark, climbing straight toward the bedroom.
The moment they were inside, he put her on her feet.
But his hands never left her waist.
They stayed there, fingers spread, gripping, restraining himself, maybe restraining her, even he didn’t know anymore.
The coat he had thrown over her earlier had been left behind in the car. The dress clung to her like a second skin. The thin straps crisscrossed over her bare spine, barely keeping the fabric in place. Under the warm light, her skin seemed to glow.
Magnus forgot how to breathe.
His chest rose once, sharply.
The more he tried to swallow the storm inside him, the worse it became. His gaze dragged over her, heavy, hungry, furious, filled with a possession that made his hands tighten.
His throat burned.
Before he could stop himself, his fingers moved to the strings at her back. They weren’t gentle. They were impatient, trembling, almost angry.
He pulled.
The straps gave way.
The dress loosened, whispering down her body, sliding along her curves before falling in a soft pool around her feet.
Sophia swayed.
Immediately his other hand came up to the back of her head, fingers sliding into her hair, holding her upright.
“You need to take a shower,” he said.
