“No one hurts my wife and stays alive.”
Silence.
Then Magnus leaned back again and closed his eyes, sealing the matter.
“Are you done?” he asked quietly. “Leave.”
Gregory didn’t move.
Instead, he watched him closely.
The exhaustion hidden under control. The anger swallowed instead of released.
“Are you really serious about Sophia?” Gregory asked.
Magnus didn’t respond.
“If you’re serious,” Gregory pressed, leaning forward now, elbows on the desk, “then shouldn’t you be doing more than just cleaning up messes behind the scenes? What’s your plan? Are you going to live with her? Or is this about to end?”
Nothing.
Just the slow sound of Magnus’s breathing.
Finally, Magnus lifted a hand and waved it dismissively, irritation clear.
“Leave,” he said. “Don’t speak nonsense to me right now. I don’t have the patience.”
Gregory scoffed. “Don’t give me that. Clear your head. Do you want her or not?”
Magnus didn’t answer. Instead he opened his eyes and got to his feet. Without giving Gregory a glance he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and headed out of the office.
Gregory threw his head back in frustration.
“For God’s sake, Magnus!” he shouted after him. “Make up your mind!”
But Magnus didn’t pause. His strides were loud as he walked out of the office and went down the elevator.
Outside, the wind brushed cool against Magnus’s face as he stepped out.
Timothy was already waiting beside the car, posture straight, expression alert.
The moment he saw Magnus, he hurried forward and opened the rear door. “Sir.”
Magnus entered, coat shifting, the faint scent of cold air following him inside. The door shut with a muted thud.
The car started, and raced through the streets. Timothy adjusted the rearview mirror slightly, his eyes flicking up to study Magnus’s reflection. The afternoon sun filtered through the tinted windows, cutting across Magnus’s sharp features, casting half his face in shadow.
“Mr. Thompson is waiting for you at the Hotel du Lac,” Timothy said carefully. “He requested that you meet him on the top floor—in a private suite—to discuss the deal for the black diamonds mine.”
Magnus’s gaze shifted slowly from the passing skyline to the mirror.
The faint hum of the engine filled the silence that followed.
Magnus didn’t move.
Timothy continued, the words pushing out slower now. “Usually it would be a business dinner. A restaurant. Something public. This…” He exhaled quietly. “It feels off.”
He hesitated.
